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“Sam, if we know they’re in there let’s just get in,” Bucky demanded again, they had been trying to talk him into doing that for a minute now, but the orders they got were clear.
“We were told to wait. Can’t you relax for a moment?” Five hours into the tiresome task that was dealing with Bucky Barnes were really paying off.
“Oh sure, I can relax for a moment. Just not while I am next to a group of terrorist,” they put on their best fake smile and turned to keep staring at the door they were unable to go to.
A red spot appeared on Sam’s screen, alerting him that there was someone moving. It was not someone inside that room, it was outside it. In a corridor just behind where they were standing.
“Bucky,” he alerted them. Or he tried to.
His partner kept looking at that door they really wanted to knock down in the next few minutes. “I’ll get to a closer position and I’ll see if I c—”
“Bucky!” Sam tried to stop them from speaking. For making any other sound that would reveal their position, seeing the spot was closer now.
“I’m just going to listen, I won’t—”
Barnes couldn’t finish their sentence because something closed their mouth.
Well, wait. It was not something. It was someone. And it tasted like …
It tasted like they thought Sam Wilson would taste like. Not that they had been thinking about that very much lately, of course.
In his defense, Wilson had no idea how it happened. That idiot kept talking and someone was getting closer and it was either eating their mouth or getting killed in that same spot next to the super soldier he had never got to kiss. And that had been faster than saying something like “shut up” for the third time in the last half an hour and having to deal with that judging face forever.
Then something he had never planned to happen occured right after.
Bucky played along. They kissed him back.
And Bucky was doing a really great job, to be honest. That dumbass was kissing him like he was the love of their life. Sam would never admit this even under oath, but it felt amazing.
The kiss got passionate for a moment, with all the adrenaline running through their veins and Sam’s hands all over Bucky’s face when they started hearing gunshots somewhere in the back, but time seemed to move slower for them; you know, like in the movies.
Sam was never going to forget this, but he wasn’t sure if it was going to make him laugh or feel embarrassed until the last one of his days.
Bucky stopped kissing him and they had to push each other apart after a minute of hard work, blushing and stunned, to shoot back when they heard people approaching.
“Hey guys,” Clint suddenly said in their ear. “You’re alright?”
“Yeah,” Sam quickly replied, running in the opposite direction from Bucky and pointing his gun. “We’re fine.”
Luckily no one had seen that. Maybe the bad guys, but they wouldn’t be a problem much longer.
And he would make sure Redwing deleted the clip later.
The clip wasn’t deleted and the clip was played a couple of times.
He saw his hands on Bucky. He tried to remember what it had felt like, but nothing came to him.
Kissing a co-worker wasn’t in his plans for the week.
Kissing the co-worker he had been pining on for some months, having ignored the deadly glares he received from them because he also got a nice conversation from time to time, well, that didn’t fit in his plan for getting over his alarming crush on said co-worker.
Damn Bucky Barnes and damn Bucky Barnes kissing him back, he thought.
Sam had no idea how he ended up there. Bucky and him hadn’t crossed paths in the last few days, not since that mission, and he didn't know what he wanted to get from going to their room.
He didn’t know what Barnes had been up to, but Sam had been hiding in his own room trying so hard not to think about them —or his lips, or his perfect face, or that stupid grin that he loved to see— that he wasn't getting any good sleep even though they had the week free. It had not been going well.
Still, there he was. Feet apart from their door, with no plan and no backups.
Just him, soon to be in front of the person he again wanted to kiss. And let’s be real, he had the same number of chances of getting kissed than of getting punched that afternoon. He thought it was a risk worth taking.
Bucky felt the door to his room was being opened from their sitting position on the bed, and grabbed the thing closest to them. A book on the nightstand. Good, they could pretend they had been reading for a while, instead of facing the facts: that they had been staring at the wall in front of them and thinking about that situation that came up during the mission, or how Sam’s lips had perfectly fit in theirs and all the feelings that shameless kiss had brought up, like they had been doing for two days.
Sam didn't even bother to knock and came in, took a couple of steps and stood by the bed. Still with no plan, still no much hope.
“If you're here to talk, I don’t wanna talk about it,” they told them, only looking at the paper.
“Okay.” That was fair, he thought. Their response hadn’t sounded as rude as he was expecting after all. It had been a neutral tone that he chose to interpret as something positive. “Let’s not talk about it.”
Instead of leaving, he climbed onto the bed and laid next to Bucky. They didn't complain about that, even if it was something out of character for Sam to do. And given that the closest interaction they had had was that kiss two days before, it wasn't like it was unpleasant having him there. But Bucky had to try their best to keep breathing normally and ignore how hard their heart was beating against their chest.
“I don’t wanna talk at all,” they repeated.
Sam looked at them, sure that they were still looking at the book. “Let’s just say—”
“Get the hell out, Wilson,” was their quickest response, ignoring how their cheeks were turning red.
He sighed and looked back up to the ceiling. Okay, it was time to play all his cards. It was now or never. And the punch wouldn’t hurt so much, if he was able to remember their only kiss while it hurt. “If you wanted to kiss me again, you could.”
What annoyed Bucky the most was how casual he made it sound. How he had said it just like that, with no doubt or hesitation, and most likely without having studied the endless outcomes that idea could have. What that would mean to them. What that would turn them, who were just two guys who loved pissing each other off, into.
They had spent two days in their room, unable to sleep and trying to bring back to their memory every second his lips were in theirs. They had even thought about leaving the Avengers team and running away to Canada so they didn’t have to face him, for god’s sake.
And now Sam was there. Inches near them. And he made it sound like that could be something real. Something that could happen more than once. Worst thing was, it made Bucky feel hopeful. They didn’t know who they hated the most for it.
They looked at Sam, with his eyes lost in the ceiling; like the situation had nothing to do with him or his lips or the feelings they maybe weren't ready to share yet. Bucky wasn't sure if it was that stupid grin they wanted to erase from his face, or they just wanted to kiss him because they wanted to kiss Sam.
After a long minute of silence, they decided their best option was to get back at that random book and ignore him until he disappeared. Ontario wasn’t too bad at this time of the year, anyway. They could read a dozen books like that one and forget Sam, the man he had been pining for for months and who was beside them, offering them to kiss him again.
“Bucky, you have the book upside down,” Sam pointed out.
They clenched their jaw and closed the block, with a more dramatic sound that was really necessary.
Sam sighed. “Bucky” he said with nothing but softness in his voice as he got up to face them. Quickly he looked down to the bed, anywhere but them, ready to get out of the room. “You don’t have to speak to me. But I need you to do something, if you have to. Anything.”
He heard the book was thrown away and he locked up when Bucky’s lips met their own, in a more tender way than he was expecting due to the growing tension of the situation. It was unbelievable how they were better with their mouths than with their words, but hey, no complaints for either of them.
Flesh and metal surrounded Sam’s neck: Bucky was holding him, keeping him as close as it was possible.
If the man he had been falling for was right in front of them, offering to be kissed, Bucky was no one to ignore that. They could think about everything that could happen once they stopped making out. Once Sam got his hands off of their body.
He broke the kiss this time, breathless and dizzy.
“Okay, this—,” he tried to say with a huge smile on his face, trying to catch his breath.
“Wilson,” they met his eyes, caressing his face. “You don’t have to speak,” Bucky repeated his words, shaking their head, and that made him laugh.
They checked if he was still with them, and confirmed that it was going to happen again.
And Sam did, he kissed them instead of talking.
He kissed Bucky more times than they expected.
He kissed Bucky more times than he was planning to.
He kissed Bucky more times on that bed, and a couple more on other locations of the room.
He kissed Bucky more times that night and even more after that.
Because Bucky was kissing him back.