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*****
“How long are we supposed to wait?” groaned Bucky.
A squirrel was conspiring against Sam.
Which, sounded weird to admit, but it was definitely what was happening right now.
“I don’t know, I think thirty minutes?” said Sam, “Maybe forty-five?”
Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if Sam hadn’t just let Bucky join him. Sam knew that he had a bad feeling about taking Bucky on this mission. He should have honestly seen the signs that this way lay chaos from the moment Bucky spoke up on the quinjet.
“This date sucks,” Bucky had said.
Maybe if Bucky wasn’t so obstinate, he’d be cute.
“This is not a date. We are on a mission,” said Sam, glancing over at Bucky.
Because he did tell Bucky that. He told him that very clearly at the new Avengers Campus; in the airplane hangar; while walking onto the quinjet.
“Then why did you invite me?” asked Bucky.
Sam laughed.
“I didn’t,” said Sam, trying not to smile at the indignation in Bucky’s tone, taking in the annoyed look on Bucky’s face, “I specifically told you not to come and you said, ‘Fuck you, I do what I want’.”
Bucky froze… probably remembering that. Then crossed his arms, slouching into the quinjet’s uncomfortable seats.
“Still a bad date,” grumbled Bucky, sinking into that ridiculous Magic Mike tearaway kevlar tactical jacket of his, like he was a puppy squishing into their turtleneck sweater.
“Again,” said Sam, a little sing song even, unable to help the soft smile on his face, “Not a date, James.”
Sam had been… trying to understand Bucky for a while now.
He had really thought he’d found common ground with the guy by the end of their fight with the Flag Smashers. More than common ground, really. He’d found that friendship Sam had missed for the first six months after the blip, the one they had in Wakanda, the one they when Bucky was out on his European Tour. Hell, Sam... Sam thought they had found more. The way they gazed into the sunset together at the boil, how he overheard Bucky talking about how he be roommates with Sam, but Sam was just not good at sharing anything.
And for a week, maybe, things were good.
More than good.
They were amazing.
They were nights with tangled up legs and hushed whispers and giggles; they were Sam waking up early to jog to find Bucky laughing with Cass and AJ in the kitchen, the three of them making pancakes together as Sarah drank her coffee, glancing at Sam like she knew Bucky wasn’t sleeping in the guest bedroom; they were working on the boat together, taking AJ and Cass to and from school in Sam’s truck, getting groceries together.
Sam saw a glimpse of a life he wanted.
Honestly, he wasn’t sure what went wrong. Whatever dating they were doing that week fizzled when Bucky became, for all intents and purposes, an outdoor cat. Bucky had disappeared into the dark of the night one random night, leaving for weeks, ghosting Sam again, before appearing for a few days. Then leaving. Rinse. Repeat.
The first time the asshole just Shia surprised himself into Sam’s bed, Sam had fought Bucky onto the floor before realizing who it was. Like Bucky could just leave for a month with no reason behind it, no answer as to why, then get to cuddle Sam like nothing ever happened? Sam unceremoniously kicked the asshole out of his room, letting Bucky find different sleeping arrangements elsewhere in the house.
Bucky fell into flittering in and out of Sam’s life.
Staying long enough for Bucky to presumably have his nth “Can I actually have a peaceful life if I really wanted one?” panic, running away to wherever he hid (Sam suspected he haunted the halls of the new Avengers Campus from the ghost stories the Young Avengers had been telling).
Sam understood it, to some extent; commitment was terrifying. Sam remembered how he ran away from Riley for the longest time before he admitted to himself what he wanted. But that didn’t mean Sam was here for Bucky stringing him along whenever he felt like it. Sam was ready for Bucky whenever Bucky was ready, but he wasn’t going to be the guy who will take whatever half-measures were happening with Bucky for the last six months.
“Uh, Sam,” said Joaquín over comms, “I think we found it.”
Sam joined Bucky at the windows, seeing him gape as they saw –
“What the fuck,” said Bucky, “Why is there a giant squirrel down there?”
“I told you not to come,” said Sam, shrugging, double-checking his equipment, “I don’t need muscle for this one.”
“You don’t need – Sam, there is a giant squirrel down there,” said Bucky, pointing at the squirrel wandering around the small town of Waltham, right outside of Boston, “Isn’t there a squirrel-themed hero you can call for this?”
“Well, sure. There is. But she also has a midterm she’s taking right now, so I’m going in instead,” said Sam, shrugging, “I heard Ratotoskr has allspeak, so it should be pretty easy to talk her down if I can get her attention. Or. At least. I should have a chance to talk her down.”
“You’re not doing that alone,” said Bucky, standing up.
“Watch me,” said Sam, winking as he fell out of the quinjet backwards.
Which led to this.
The curse.
Or.
That was what Sam assumed this was.
To be honest, Sam didn’t remember the details of what went down after he jumped out of that plane all too well. He remembered talking to Ratotoskr, asking her why she was there, what Sam could do to help her leave Midgard in a peaceful manner. Sam remembered Bucky falling through the sky and breaking his landing on Ratotoskr’s giant tail. There was an argument in there; bickering? But then, Ratotoskr said something, and reality twisted, and before Sam knew it, Sam had no fuel left for his wings, it was early morning somehow, and he had flown Bucky all the way from Waltham, Massachusetts to Hopkinsville, Kentucky.
“Maybe it won’t happen to my phone,” grumbled Bucky, taking out his phone.
“That seems like an unnecessary idea, you’re just going to lose yours too,” said Sam shrugging, but letting Bucky do what he wanted; Sam wasn’t the boss of Bucky.
Bucky glanced over at Sam’s clearly smoldering phone on the ground before fires sprung forth from Bucky’s own, Bucky letting the phone go with a yelp as the plastic crackled and melted.
“Oh, that’s not good for the environment,” said Bucky, then started moving Sam back, “Or your lungs, don’t breathe that in.”
“I know,” said Sam, feeling a little gooey over how protective Bucky’s arm around Sam was, how Bucky was swatting away the toxic fumes of the phone as if he could fight smoke.
“Um…” said Joaquín on comms because, right, Joaquín was listening into everything they were saying, “I’m… in Antarctica?”
Sam blinked.
“You’re what?” said Sam.
Once Sam and Bucky realized they weren’t in Waltham anymore, they had gotten a hold of Joaquín on comms, finding out that they were in Hopkinsville, Kentucky. Joaquín had said that, since Rhodey was closer, he could probably pick them up in his quinjet, but the moment Rhodey hit Kentucky airspace, things had gotten… weird. So, Joaquín had decided to try to pick them up.
“Huh. Say hi to Rhodey for us?” said Sam, he and Bucky exchanging looks.
“It’s definitely magic, then, right?” said Sharon, definitely sitting relaxed at the new Avengers Campus, “Some sorcerer must have supped up the magic squirrel and now it’s using its powers to take revenge on you. Probably laughing in Yggdrasil right now, watching your live feed with a bucket of giant acorns.”
“The squirrel I convinced to go back to Asgard peacefully wants revenge on that… by keeping us in Kentucky?” asked Sam, frowning.
“Sounds like a punishment to me,” said Sharon.
“Rude,” said Sam, “I’m sure… Kentucky is a nice state.”
Sam knew the look on Bucky’s face. That look that meant he knew that Sam knew nothing about fucking Kentucky.
“What if we try portals?” said Bucky, shrugging, “I mean I know they cost more than the quinjet, but maybe Wong can throw us an emergency one?”
“Already tried that. Several times, actually,” said Sharon, sighing, “Wong tries to make one near you, it opens up into a dimension with this living crossword being named Cross Wordo and then we have to finish the crossword to defeat him every time – it’s a whole thing. I don’t want to talk about it. Long story short, no portals.”
Bucky nodded, narrowing his eyes as he looked into the distance. Sam knew Bucky was antsy. He got why. Sam wasn’t a fan of this either. He didn’t like being grounded by whatever spell was doing this. He didn’t like being forced to be somewhere, especially since he’d have to rely on Bucky, it seemed, and while Sam wanted to be able to rely on Bucky, it was hard for Sam to believe that he could after the shit Bucky had been pulling the last six months.
Bucky wasn’t the kind of person who liked being controlled by powers he couldn’t fight, though, and it was clearly fraying him. And the way Bucky was grinning at the horizon just screamed like a bad idea.
“Bucky… what are you planning?” asked Sam.
“Fuck cages. I can get out of this myself,” said Bucky, starting to jog, run, sprint – and then immediately catch fire, “Motherfucker!”
Sam tried not to laugh as Bucky stopped, dropped, and rolled the flames away. Because of course his super speed was being hindered by this spell.
“I think you can purchase bus tickets nearby,” Sharon had said, “Maybe try that?”
So, the latest plan? Get the next bus ticket out of Kentucky, which was to Clarksville, Tennessee.
So, here Sam was.
Stuck sitting at a bus stop uncomfortably in his Captain America suit, all alone with his Outdoor Cat of a Person, Bucky. Waiting out the amusing series of growl grumbles and nonsense words as Bucky reacted to how much time they had left before the next train.
“You know, this would be more fun if it was a train,” said Sam, Bucky turning to Sam with a confused look, “You know – Take the last train to – never mind. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t like trains,” grumbled Bucky, as if Bucky had a vendetta against trains, and Sam was about to open his mouth and make fun of Bucky for wanting revenge on trains until Sam realized with a wince that right.
Trains.
Bucky fell off a train.
Bucky looked like he was grappling inside himself. Grappling with what he wanted. Grappling with what he wanted to say. God, the man just grappled with himself all the time. Could have an entire wrestling league that was just himself being both heel and face for a variety of issues. Sam would watch an all-Bucky wrestling league. Fun spandex and over-convoluted backstories and the dramatics Bucky always brought to the table. Two Buckys. Just. Wrestling each other.
Nope.
Off-track, Sam.
“I… I will worry,” said Bucky, “I do worry.”
Sam raised an eyebrow.
“About Monkees lyrics?” said Sam, obtuse.
Bucky looked like his computer brain was overheating. Sam could see it now. The boops, the bleeps, the error four-oh-four threatening to wipe out all brain function.
“I want to know things,” said Bucky, “If you want to show them to me. I don’t – I’m open. To things.”
“Good to know,” said Sam, because he’d been unsure of that, “But I don’t see how that has anything to do with worry.”
“You,” said Bucky, “I worry about you.”
Sam should probably be easier on the guy. Then again, asshole’s been acting like an outdoor cat to him for all of six months, so maybe it was fine to let Bucky squirm a bit.
“You don’t say?” said Sam, “I would have never had guessed!”
Bucky turned away, looking at his watch.
“Wasn’t it six-twenty-three ten minutes ago?” said Bucky, tapping the glass over the clockface, “It doesn’t look like the watch is broken, though…”
“You’re avoiding the topic,” said Sam, “We’ve needed to have this talk for a while now.”
Sam had needed this talk since that first morning he woke up and Bucky disappeared. And when Bucky didn’t respond to that, Sam continued.
“I don’t know what to think of us, Bucky. Where I stand,” explained Sam, “One minute, I feel like you want to be here with me, and the next, you’re the star of the new Avengers Campus ghost stories Riri and Eli tell me.”
Bucky laughed.
“What?” said Bucky, incredulously.
“Seriously,” said Sam, “They don’t call you by your name, but they are talking about you. Making weird blanket nests in closets and jumping into ventilation systems whenever people are walking down a hall and stealing all the blueberry scones from the coffee cart – which, by the way, be happy that Hope finds that hilarious and is currently paying the tab for your scone heists. You do know that people live on campus grounds, right? That if you don’t want to live with me, you are very much welcome to one of the various Avengers bedrooms there, even if you aren’t technically an active member.”
Bucky started shaking his head once Sam said he could move to the campus.
“No,” said Bucky firmly, “That’s not – I don’t want that.”
“Then what do you want, James?” asked Sam, and it felt like the floodgates had opened, all of Sam’s questions pouring out of him and drowning Sam in his own insecurities, “Because I’m kind of at the end of my rope and I have no clue where to go from here with you. Did you even want to be with me like that? Were you ready for that level of intimacy? Did you break it off because you weren’t? Do you want something with us? Do you not? Did you feel obliged to sleep with me because you assumed I wanted that – ”
“Sam. No,” said Bucky, interrupting, “I did not feel like I needed to sleep with you to stay at your house. Don’t think that.”
And Sam waited for the rest of it. For a reason. For an explanation. For Something. And he got nothing.
“I need more than that,” said Sam, “I know you know I need more.”
Bucky swallowed hard.
“Crow’s feet,” said Bucky.
Sam blinked.
“What?” said Sam.
“Do you remember – that morning. We were in the bathroom. You had just showered and…” Bucky started, trailing off.
Sam barely remembered the day, mostly because the day before Bucky left was so mundane. Sam had jogged; showered; Sam had remembered seeing Bucky brushing his teeth.
“You looked in the mirror that day and said ‘Huh. I’m getting crow’s feet,” explained Bucky, Sam not remembering this at all, “And… the first thought in my mind was ‘Fuck. Sam deserves someone he can grow old with’.”
Sam’s heart didn’t just sink; it cratered out of him, hitting the center of the earth.
“You left me because I’m aging quicker?” asked Sam, which was a fear he didn’t know he had until now.
“I left because I don’t,” said Bucky.
“Same difference,” said Sam, feeling that fear quickly transform into calm fury, “And what? You think, ‘Oh, I’m not dating Sam, but also, I want to act like we’re dating whenever I show up?’ Because that’s not confusing at all, right?”
Bucky didn’t have an answer to that.
“I’m asking you to be completely honest,” asked Sam, “What do you want? Because it can’t be whatever is going on between us right now. This hot and cold game you keep playing. This isn’t fair to either of us and you know it.”
“I – ” Bucky started, and faltered, whatever he was about to say muffled by Bucky’s overthinking mind.
And Sam wasn’t going to take that as an answer.
“Stop thinking. Just say it,” said Sam, “What do you want?”
“You,” blurted Bucky, his entire body radiating love at Sam, “I want you.”
“Do you, though?” asked Sam, “Because it sounds like the moment you realized I’m probably going to grow old first, you fled.”
Bucky grabbed Sam’s face and Sam didn’t know he had been shaking before Bucky’s hands held him; he didn’t know there were traitorous tears before Bucky had wiped them away.
“Sam,” said Bucky, looking Sam straight in the eye, dead serious, “I don’t care if your face becomes one giant wrinkle. You’d still be the hottest wrinkle-face man in town.”
Sam let out a half-sob, half-laugh.
“No,” said Sam, seeing the smirk on Bucky’s face peeking out, “You don’t get to use humor to make this better. You acted super disruptive for months, you don’t get off with one joke.”
“How about two?” said Bucky, Sam laughing despite himself.
“That was a really messed up thing that you did, Buck,” said Sam, jabbing a finger into Bucky’s chest, “That’s me having to schedule another therapist meeting this week messed up.”
“I freaked out. And then I justified it by thinking it was for the best for you,” said Bucky wincing at the words.
“You know what’s best for me?” said Sam, “Kind of, definitely patronizing, Buckaroo.”
“Yeah, I heard it when I said it out loud,” said Bucky, “It sounds stupid saying it, because I’m not actually scared of you getting old.”
“I’m catching up to you, old man. Watch out,” said Sam.
“That’s not how time works,” said Bucky, laughing.
“We’ll see how it works in a few years. I mean, the Avengers did somehow invent time travel. That probably means someone who means well will fuck up the timeline,” said Sam, “Maybe we’ll be the same age if that happens.”
Sam waggled his eyebrows.
“I was scared of you dying,” said Bucky, groaning into Sam’s shoulder, still holding Sam’s face with his hands, “Which is insane, because you have a super dangerous job and could die at any given moment.”
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence in my ability to not die,” said Sam, trying not to think about his mortal existence.
“It’s just a fact,” said Bucky, “But actually saying everything out loud has made me realize… I just want you. For as long as I can have you. For as long as you will have me. For whatever years are blessed to us.”
Sam moved Bucky gently away from his shoulder, looking the man in the eyes.
Okay.
So, maybe the squirrel had been rooting for Sam.
Thank you, Ratotoskr.
“Then fucking have me,” said Sam, “These dramatics aren’t helping either of us. You have me. And I have you. Also, stop sleeping at the new Avengers Campus without signing in. You’re freaking out all the teens.”
Bucky laughed, bringing Sam in for the first kiss they’d had since Bucky left Sam that one night. And Sam could feel it. The promise on those lips, the solid ground Sam needed for this relationship.
Sam heard a bus driving closer, Bucky laughing into his mouth because he was definitely facing the direction of the bus.
“Weird squirrel curse,” said Bucky, grumbly, forehead on Sam’s.
“Could have been a blessing,” said Sam.
“She left us with no way out of Kentucky besides bus, Sam,” said Bucky, “And that looks like the kind of bus where an asshole would eat fish out of tupperware. No. It was a curse.”
Sam laughed, wrapping his arms around Bucky, just… happy they figured it out. Finally.
“Come on,” said Bucky the world rearranging itself as Sam found himself being carried bridal style onto the bus, “Let’s get the fuck out of Kentucky. And. Show me the song you were talking about. Hopefully, our phones will magically appear in our pockets unharmed once we cross state lines?”
“Doubtful. But who knows? Weirder things have happened today,” said Sam, curling up close to Bucky, silently thanking the Asgardian squirrel for her help.