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Sam Wilson was not entirely sure what he"d done to annoy Bucky Barnes. Clearly, something was up because Bucky didn"t usually ignore him like this. He checked up on him a couple of times a week. He asked Bucky how the new apartment was shaping up, how therapy was going, whether he was going to keep that kitten he started fostering last month, just general stuff.
Bucky"s replies were never very long or detailed, but he did usually reply. Sam knew how isolated Bucky got and he tried to include him in his life because otherwise Bucky would disappear again. He had practically dragged him to the Wilson family Christmas in Louisiana two months after the Blip.
Bucky was conveniently unreachable for New Year"s Eve a week later. They exchanged texts back and forth for a few months and Bucky even let him take him out to dinner to celebrate his one hundred and sixth birthday, and now… nothing, total radio silence.
He knew that Bucky had read his messages. There was a little notification underneath the last text he sent that said "read." Something was very wrong. Either he"d upset Bucky somehow or something else was going on that was making him withdraw. He did that sometimes.
Bucky retreated into his own head on occasion, and honestly, Sam was relieved that Bucky had therapy to go to, otherwise the guy would probably never leave the apartment. As it was, Sam spent the entire flight to New York City telling himself that he was overreacting… but when he knocked on the door of Bucky"s apartment in Brooklyn and got no answer, he couldn"t quite help the feeling of unease that crept over him.
"Bucky? If you"re in there, open the door," he called, leaning his head against the polished red cherrywood.
If the positions were reversed and he was the one hiding out in his apartment, Bucky wouldn"t have waited in the corridor. He would have broken in. Sam knew that for sure, but in his hometown, they had this little thing called manners.
He was not about to risk a breaking and entering charge unless the situation was dire, and he wasn’t entirely sure that it was. Maybe Bucky was just out picking up some bread and milk or doing whatever the hell former assassins did with their time when they weren’t sitting in therapy or adopting cats.
"Are you looking for James?" a soft voice asked.
Sam turned, noticing an old man watching him from a few feet away. He seemed harmless enough, but two years on the run with Steve had left him with a strong sense of paranoia that was hard to shake. He straightened up slowly, adjusting his weight and sizing up the man before him.
"Yeah. I am looking for James," Sam said cautiously, propping a shoulder against the doorframe, trying to appear casual.
The name ‘James’ sounded strange and oddly formal to him. He had never known anyone that called Bucky by his first name. Maybe Bucky preferred it. He"d never asked him. He always followed Steve"s lead. Steve called him Bucky, so he did too. He frowned, realizing that maybe he should ask Bucky what he wanted to be called these days. He"d changed so much after Hydra"s destruction that it was hard to know what was okay with him and what wasn"t.
"James isn"t here. It"s Wednesday," the old man informed him, like that was supposed to mean something.
"Right, yeah. Do you know when James will be back?" Sam asked, puzzling over the little the man had told him.
Where did Bucky go on Wednesdays? Therapy? Central Park? Tap dancing class? He had no idea and knowing how secretive Bucky could be, he doubted that this old man knew where Bucky really went either. He studied him curiously for a moment. He didn"t seem like the sort of guy Bucky usually hung out with. Of course, Bucky didn"t hang out with anyone, so it was hard to be sure.
"James will be back after lunch. He"s a nice young man. Quiet, polite," the old man said with an approving smile.
Sam almost grinned. ‘Nice’ and ‘young’ were two words nobody had ever used to describe Bucky, but quiet… yeah, that sounded like him. His concern for him deepened, but he sensed that there was little this old man could tell him. If he thought Bucky was young, then he really didn"t know his history or anything about him at all. He was unlikely to be a well of Bucky"s deep, dark secrets.
Sam sighed. "Listen, uh…"
"Yori," the old man supplied, offering his hand to Sam.
“Yori," Sam muttered, certain that he wasn’t pronouncing his name right and shaking his hand anyway. "Do you know if James is doing okay?"
He wasn’t trying to pry into Bucky"s personal life. He wasn"t, no matter what it felt like to be asking Yori questions about him. Bucky hated questions almost as much as he hated interference from other people. Sam knew that, but what he also knew was that if Bucky disappeared again, there wasn"t anyone in the world that he would come back for or who would be able to find him. If Bucky was planning on disappearing, he needed to know sooner rather than later, even if the information came from an unlikely source: an old man he met in the hallway of Bucky"s building.
"We"re all doing the best we can," Yori said grimly, averting his eyes.
Sam frowned. "What does that mean?"
Yori opened his mouth to answer him, but before he could, Sam felt a familiar cold metal hand close over his wrist. He turned and stared into a pair of blue eyes that were filled with more suspicion and mistrust than warmth. Bucky. He was so relieved to see him that he didn"t even try to break the vice-like grip Bucky had on his arm like he would have once.
"Sam, what are you doing here?" Bucky asked in a low murmur, glancing suspiciously from him to Yori.
"I was looking for you," Sam replied, trying and failing to twist free of Bucky"s grip.
He raised an eyebrow at him and Bucky released him with a grimace. His wrist throbbed a little and Sam made a conscious effort not to rub it in front of Bucky. The last thing his friend needed was an extra dose of guilt right now. He forced a smile instead, mostly for Yori’s benefit. The old man"s sharp gaze flickered between them, no doubt trying to discern the dynamic between them, since Bucky gave so little of himself away.
"These are for your son," Bucky said softly, stepping past Sam and passing Yori a brown paper bag that reeked of bamboo and musk incense. "I"m sorry if my friend bothered you."
"Why are you back so early?" Yori asked curiously, accepting the bag with a nod and a sad smile.
"No reason," Bucky said evasively. "I"ll see you later… Sam."
Bucky jerked his head toward his apartment and Sam sighed, waiting for Bucky to unlock the door, and following him inside. As soon as the door shut behind him, Bucky yanked off his jacket and gloves, looking irritated. His vibranium arm gleamed and Sam couldn"t help admiring the way the sunlight spilling through the living room window caught the little flecks of gold in his arm, making it shimmer.
He picked up the jacket Bucky had discarded on the floor and hung it on a brass coat hook with a weary shake of his head. Bucky was in undercover mode. He could tell just by looking at him: hiding his metal arm from Yori, the jacket and gloves, wearing all dark colors, the slightly exaggerated accent, the friendly neighbor James persona… he was hiding in plain sight. He was retreating, just like he did all those years ago in Romania. It was concerning.
"What was that about? Why are you giving Yori stuff for his son?" Sam asked curiously.
"It"s not really your business, is it?" Bucky muttered, turning his back on him.
Sam looked at him for a long moment and then ventured a guess. “You"re seeing his son, is that it?"
He was definitely pushing his luck with him, and he couldn"t help the slight twinge of jealousy he felt at the idea that Bucky spent his Wednesdays going on brunch dates with Yori"s son, who was probably a nice young man, just as quiet and reserved as Bucky, without the past trauma and decades of brainwashing. Maybe he was an accountant or a lawyer. That seemed like Bucky"s type: safe, stable and a little boring, someone that grounded him and gave him a taste of normality, someone that wasn"t living as close to the edge as Sam was these days.
"Yeah, Sam, I do see him," Bucky said quietly, his tone bitter. "Every time I close my eyes, I remember murdering him for Hydra, so yeah, I"m seeing him all the time. Are we done with that?"
Sam groaned. "Bucky…"
"Save your pity. I don"t want it," Bucky said sharply, turning and flashing him such a fierce glare that Sam backed off.
"Okay," he replied, raising his hands in surrender.
He had no idea how to talk to him about Hydra or nightmares or any of that. He wasn"t his therapist and he didn"t envy her in the slightest. He watched Bucky tug off his boots and socks with a sigh, sensing that Bucky was seconds away from kicking him out, but he didn"t. The super soldier walked across the living room barefoot and scooped a tiny white fur ball off the sofa. The kitten yawned and headbutted Bucky, rubbing his chin. Sam couldn"t help smiling at the odd pair, who seemed strangely suited to each other.
"What are you doing here anyway? You hate New York," Bucky muttered, setting the kitten down on the floor.
"I don"t hate it," Sam protested with a frown, stung by that comment. "I just think it"s a little overrated, that"s all."
In all honesty, he did hate New York City. There was too much traffic and too many people. Everyone was always in a hurry, too self involved to give a friendly wave to a stranger. The entire city struck him as cold and unfriendly… kind of like Bucky, really. Maybe the city suited him even more than the cat did.
"Uh huh," Bucky muttered doubtfully, as the kitten rubbed against his shins and purred, before wandering into the next room, her little white paws slipping occasionally on the polished floorboards.
Sam froze awkwardly for a moment and then said, "So this is your place. It"s nice.”
He pretended he didn"t see the blanket and pillow on the floor or the deep, finger width gouges in the wood where Bucky had obviously had a nightmare and clawed the floorboards with his metal hand. The super soldier was even more tight-lipped and closed off than he remembered and he couldn’t help but feel that he was overstaying his welcome.
Complimenting the decor didn’t seem to get Sam anywhere, so he tried again, striving to keep things teasing and light between them. "The polite thing to do would be to offer me a drink since I came all this way just to see you, Buck.”
Bucky frowned. "The polite thing would have been for you to call before you showed up here.”
He wasn’t wrong about that, but Sam couldn’t seem to help the retort that slipped from his lips anyway. "If I"d called, would you have answered or would you have ignored that too?"
He folded his arms over his chest and stared Bucky down, not flinching even when the super soldier fixed him with his most intimidating glare. He’d just watched the man cuddle with the world"s tiniest kitten. He was not buying the super scary soldier routine, not for a single minute. He’d stopped being afraid of Bucky a damn long time ago.
After a moment, Bucky’s hard expression softened and he said plaintively, "I wasn"t ignoring you.”
Sam tossed him a dubious look. "What do you call it when you read my texts and don"t reply?"
"I didn"t know how to reply. Alright, let me read this last one to you," Bucky said, slipping his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. "Hi Buck, it"s Sam. I’m just checking in. Let me know if you"re okay."
"What"s wrong with that?" Sam asked a little defensively.
To his ear, it was a perfectly innocuous message. It was just what friends did. They checked on each other and offered support when it was needed. Bucky was starting to make him feel like a clingy, stalker ex boyfriend, getting obsessive over a missed message. He grimaced and shook his head, half tempted to apologize for showing up out of the blue like this, but the look on Bucky’s face stopped him.
"You told me to let you know if I was okay," Bucky said softly, his voice strained.
"Yeah and you didn"t–"" Sam broke off as a startling thought occurred to him. "You didn"t let me know because you"re not okay."
He sighed heavily, comprehension dawning. Of course, Bucky would be exactly the kind of person to interpret a message like that so literally. He was glad now that he’d dropped everything at a moment"s notice and come to New York City to check on him. It was the right move after all.
"I"m not okay," Bucky admitted in a tremulous tone that just about broke Sam’s heart.
"Can I give you a hug?" he asked tentatively and Bucky shrugged and gave a stiff jerk of his head that wasn’t a firm no but a soft yes.
Sam closed the distance between them in seconds and pulled Bucky into a tight hug because it felt right and because he didn"t know how to make Bucky feel better about the things that made him feel not-okay. He sank onto the sofa with him, relieved when Bucky didn"t pull away from him, but let him offer some physical comfort that was clearly needed.
Bucky sighed and said quietly, "You should"ve come by sooner.”
Sam nodded and swallowed hard as he asked, "How bad is it?"
Bucky shook his head. "I"ve had worse," he replied, refusing to look at him and pulling away from him, beginning to fidget anxiously, something that was so unlike him that Sam immediately sat up and paid attention.
He glanced first at the gouges in the floor, his gaze flickering back to the dark rings under Bucky"s eyes. He was clearly not sleeping much, and when he was sleeping, he was reliving past trauma. The defensiveness of his posture, lack of eye contact and incessant fidgeting all pointed to one thing: Bucky was struggling. Sam didn"t push him to open up to him. He just waited. It was always a waiting game with Bucky.
Several minutes passed in silence before Bucky finally spoke. "It"s been pointed out to me that I don"t know who I am. I"m still waiting for someone to tell me because that"s what I was taught to do. Wait for orders. Wait for Steve. Wait for T"Challa. Wait to be told. My therapist asked me today what I want to do and I don"t know because nobody has ever asked me that."
Sam nodded, not daring to interrupt in case Bucky shut him out. He was good at that. He would clam up sometimes and he wouldn"t tell anyone anything. Although what else Sam had expected from a guy who survived seventy years of torture, he didn’t know. He needed to wait and let Bucky give voice to the things that were bothering him, as hard as it was to just be patient and listen without trying to immediately fix it.
"I"ve never had options," Bucky continued, taking a deep, steadying breath and letting it out. "I was always going to be in the army because my dad was and he died when I was… anyway, I was. I was a soldier, then an assassin and then a soldier again for Wakanda. That"s all I know how to do... I really miss Steve sometimes, Sam."
Sam nodded. "I do too.”
He hadn"t missed the fact that right after Bucky said that he didn"t know who he was or what he was supposed to do, he brought up Steve. Steve would have had the answers for both of them. Sam was sure of that. Steve had never faltered. He just kept coming, charging through until something broke his way. That didn’t work for Sam.
"I"m not allowed to miss him," Bucky said croakily and Sam frowned; that didn’t sound right.
"What? Of course you are!" he exclaimed, reaching for him, but Bucky pulled away, shaking his head.
"No, I define myself by what Steve thinks of me," Bucky said in a half-whisper. "I don"t know how to be myself because I"m always trying to be what Steve remembers."
Sam paused, considering that. "What happens if you try to be what you remember instead?"
Bucky"s therapist had gotten to him today. He could see that much and he now knew where it was Bucky went on Wednesdays. Bucky was clearly struggling to separate himself from Steve. It was hard for him to create a life and an identity that didn"t revolve around his best friend. As much as Sam cared for him, he didn’t know how to help Bucky do that. He was having a similar struggle, picking up the pieces Steve left behind.
"Most of what I remember is the Winter Soldier," Bucky admitted, still not looking at him.
"What about before that?" Sam asked gently.
"I don"t want to think about who I was before that," Bucky declared, his voice shaking. "If I think about Steve… it doesn"t help. That life is gone. Everyone in it is gone, including Steve. Any hope I had of holding onto that life left the same day he did. He told me it was going to be okay… and it"s not."
Bucky’s voice broke and Sam nodded, holding back tears. Cliches and platitudes chased themselves in circles around his head. He couldn"t bring himself to say any of them, not to Bucky. He"d probably heard them all already and he wasn’t going to insult him by repeating meaningless words.
"I don"t mean to sound so bitter," Bucky said guiltily, breaking the awkward silence. "I bet you"re glad you knocked on my door."
Sam smiled. "I am, actually.”
"Why did you come here, Sam?" Bucky asked quietly.
Sam sighed. "Honestly? I miss you.”
"I"ve been in love with you since last Christmas" would have been a hell of a lot more honest, but Bucky wasn’t ready to hear that yet, and Sam wasn’t ready to say it. He just kept trying to remind himself that what Bucky needed was more important than what he wanted. Bucky needed a friend and what Sam wanted didn’t matter, not with how much Bucky was clearly hurting.
"You miss me?" Bucky said doubtfully.
"Yes, you,” Sam said with a laugh. “I miss your grumpy ass. I miss all the staring and glaring twenty four/seven. I always wondered if I could–”
"If you could, what?" Bucky asked softly, raising his steel blue eyes to Sam’s face.
Sam swallowed nervously, but answered the question. "Sometimes, you get this really intense look and I just think to myself: I wonder if I could turn that frown upside down, you know? I wonder what it would be like if I… if we…"
He paused, his words trailing off into silence, his heart beat thundering in his ears, blood rushing to places he wished it wouldn’t at that moment. Bucky was too close to him. He was too close and too damn kissable. Those pouty, perfect lips were calling to him, but still Sam hesitated, hardly able to breathe when Bucky gave him that look, that same intense look that always turned his knees to jelly and his brain to mush.
He trembled and exhaled shakily when Bucky cupped the back of his neck with his right hand and drew him close. Sam closed his eyes and made a wish. The kiss Bucky pressed to his lips was so gentle, so tentative, so soft and Sam gave himself over to the sweetness of that kiss without hesitation. He melted into the warmth of Bucky"s mouth. There was no air. There was no oxygen at all. There was only Bucky.
All there was, all he could taste, all he could smell, all he could hear and feel was Bucky. He"d never wanted anyone so damn much in his entire life. He could have drowned quite happily like that. He never wanted to come up for air. But after a few moments, Bucky pulled back and rested his forehead against Sam"s.
“Sam," he whispered longingly. "I"m not a smart choice. You know that, right?"
Sam frowned and drew back slightly. “Is that really what you"re worried about?"
He shook his head and sighed. Yeah, Hydra messed Bucky up in a thousand different ways, but for Bucky to still be sweet and kind and gentle after all of that was nothing short of a miracle. Bucky was the most amazing person he"d ever met and he"d completely fallen in love with him. There was no changing that, not now.
“Sam–" Bucky broke off, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Don"t hurt me."
"I would never do that," Sam said imploringly.
Bucky bit his lip and said brokenly, "If you get close and you make me feel all these things and you say all these things...and then you leave… You will hurt me… I"m always the guy who gets left behind, whether it"s the army leaving me to be experimented on, or the Commandos leaving me for Hydra and the Soviets to take, or the Avengers leaving me in Wakanda, or… or Steve leaving me behind to go be with the real love of his life. I… I can"t be left behind again, Sam, so if you"re gonna… I mean, I"d rather cut my losses now than wait a year for you to rip my heart out."
There was so much pain lacing Bucky"s words that Sam had to close his eyes to remember how to breathe. The words "the real love of his life" struck him as particularly bitter, and he sighed as he opened his eyes, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell Steve was thinking or if it even was Steve or some alien masquerading as him that caused all that hurt.
"I"d never do that to you,” he said quietly. “But… Bucky, are you still hung up on Steve? I need to know now if you are."
Bucky shook his head. "No, it’s not that. I"m just old and bitter, Sam.”
"Hey," Sam said gently, running his fingers through Bucky"s soft hair. "I won"t hurt you, Bucky. I won"t leave you behind and… we can take things as slow as you want. I know you"re still trying to figure things out, but I want to be with you. I have for a long time. Steve was kind of an impulsive idiot sometimes. This is not an impulse. I"ve thought about this… about you a lot."
Bucky smiled and said almost shyly, "You think about me?"
"All the damn time," Sam declared, biting back a grin at the effect his words had on Bucky.
His smile was so soft and sweet as he ducked his head, color rising in his cheeks before he hid his face from Sam. His sudden shyness was so unexpected and kind of cute. Sam couldn"t quite resist dropping a tender kiss in his hair, lingering long enough to catch those sweet notes of fig and guava shampoo before Bucky slowly raised his head, his expression uncertain.
"I haven"t done this in a long time, so… slow, okay?" Bucky said hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask that things move at a pace they were both comfortable with.
Sam cupped his cheek with his hand and made him a promise as he looked deep into his eyes, "Slow, Buck.”
Bucky nodded and whispered, "Okay, Sam.”
Then he leaned in to kiss him again. Sam struggled not to smile and just melted into the bliss of it all. The soft, yet insistent way Bucky kissed him, his tongue teasing at Sam’s lips, was not slow at all, but Sam wasn"t about to tell him that, not a chance. He’d seen Bucky dance with Steve often enough to know one thing for sure: letting him take the lead was the easiest thing in the world.
‘Unexpected,’ that was how he would describe Sam"s presence in his life, Bucky decided. Sam was unexpected. He was unpredictable and undeserved, but not at all unwanted. He wasn"t sure when Sam made the switch from Steve"s annoying friend to his… what? He wasn"t sure what Sam was to him.
He just couldn"t figure him out. It had been two days since Sam had shown up at his apartment, and for the first time in a long while, he"d found someone whose actions he couldn"t predict. The closest he"d come to anticipating him was expecting Sam to do the opposite of what any normal person would do.
The level of acceptance and understanding Sam possessed baffled him. Anyone else would have insisted that he sleep in his bed because the floor was cold and uncomfortable, but not Sam. He wouldn"t even compromise and sleep on the sofa. No, Sam slept beside him on the floor.
He didn"t try to make him change to fit his view of ‘normal.’ He met Bucky right where he was and just stayed without judgment or complaint. He found Sam"s presence comforting in a weird way. Usually, he preferred to be on his own. At least, that was what he told himself.
But the first time he woke up sweating, shaking and screaming from a nightmare and didn"t have to deal with it alone… well, that was different. Okay, it was kind of nice to have Sam there, not analyzing him and not making him talk about it, but just holding him, stroking his hair and promising him that he was safe. He could get used to that.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to get used to it because if he did, it was going to make it even harder when he had to go back to dealing with things on his own at some future point when Sam changed his mind about him. Sam just had this way of drawing him in and making him crave more of him, more of his time, more of his company, more of his touch.
He was addicted to him and that was dangerous. Yet for all that it worried him that Sam was getting too close too fast, he still found himself agreeing to spend the weekend in Louisiana with him. A change of scenery would be good for him, so said Sam and Bucky just couldn’t bring himself to disagree.
The idea of staying in the apartment alone for the weekend didn"t appeal to him in the slightest anyway, and he found a surprisingly willing pet sitter in Yori. There was no real reason for him to stay in New York City over the weekend. As long as he was back in time for his scheduled therapy session on Monday, everything would be fine. He needed to stop worrying.
"Are you sure about this, Yori?" he asked uncertainly, watching the tiny kitten explore his neighbor’s apartment. "I don"t have to go."
Yori just smiled. "Is it me you don"t trust or her?"
"Are you kidding? Her," Bucky declared, shaking his head at the kitten that was currently investigating a model plane Yori had recently finished building. "She"s trouble."
He sighed and looked contemplatively at the ball of white fluff, He could say with absolute certainty that he"d always wanted a cat. He could say with equal certainty that this one was the most mischievous creature he"d ever come across. She was a little too smart for her own good and she definitely knew how to keep him on his toes.
"Trouble?" Yori repeated, looking thoughtful. "Have you named her at last or are you trying to warn me, James?"
Bucky shook his head. "I haven"t named her. She"s not my cat.”
Yori leaned down to pet the little feline and remarked casually, "You know, my son believed that if a person had reached the highest level of enlightenment, their soul would return for a time in the form of a cat… Only when the cat died would their soul be freed to reach nirvana."
Bucky glanced at R.J’s picture and then said lightly, "Please, don"t kill the cat while I"m gone. There"s going to be so much paperwork if you do.”
He forced a smile, knowing that he was just using humor to keep Yori at a safe distance, not that there was any such thing as safe when it came to interactions with the father of the man he murdered when he was the Winter Soldier. Keeping people at arm"s length was something he was well practiced at and he didn’t know how to change that or if he even wanted to.
"I wouldn"t hurt a hair on her beautiful head," Yori declared, bestowing an adoring look on the mischievous kitten. "It"s just a story, James."
Bucky nodded and sighed. "Yeah, okay. If you need anything…”
"I won"t," Yori insisted, folding his arms over his chest and giving him a stern look.
"But if you do, call,” Bucky insisted, knowing already that Yori wouldn’t. “You"ve got my number.”
Doctor Raynor would be proud, he thought cynically. She was always nagging him to make connections. Although, he doubted she would think that the connection between him and Yori was a healthy one. It was going to blow up in his face as soon as Yori found out who he really was and what he"d done. He tried to push that thought aside. It made it harder for him to act normal around Yori if he was thinking about the Winter Soldier.
"Stop worrying," Yori said impatiently. "Have a nice time with your young man… Do you expect me to believe it"s a coincidence that he showed up and two days later, you decided to set off for a romantic weekend away after hiding in that apartment with Trouble for weeks on end?"
Bucky frowned. "That"s not her name and I never said it was romantic.”
"You didn"t have to say anything," Yori said slyly. "I see the way you look at him."
Bucky pulled a face, mortified. "Yori…"
Yori just tutted disapprovingly and said in a mildly scolding tone, "I can"t believe you let me waste my time setting you up on a date with my neighbor when you harbored feelings for Sam all this time.”
"Not all this time and I don"t harbor feelings," Bucky protested, his sense of mortification increasing with every word that left Yori’s mouth.
God, if his sister could see him now… She had chided him constantly for his refusal to settle down. Just two days with Sam and he was already considering it. Wouldn’t Becca have loved that? The perpetual bachelor finding a partner at long last? He shook his head, refusing to even entertain the thought of not being alone, no matter what Sam promised.
"You know, the more you try to hide it, the more obvious it becomes," Yori observed and Bucky stifled a groan.
"I"m not… I mean…" Bucky stammered, blushing furiously as Yori gave him a sympathetic smile.
"Let him care for you, James," Yori said pleadingly. "Let him take you to dinner and on long walks. Let him love you and spoil you. I can tell that he wants to."
"You"ve only met him once!" Bucky exclaimed in disbelief.
He stared at Yori, wide eyed. It was not that obvious, he told himself. The thought of long walks with Sam made him smile though. That would be nice. Maybe they would hold hands and Sam would put his arm around his waist and let him rest his head on his shoulder while he told him another story about his old wingman. God, he was getting soft. Next, he"d be wanting to cuddle.
"He couldn"t stop talking about you," Yori declared with evident amusement. "He didn"t ask me one thing about myself. No. Have you seen James? When will James be back? Is James alright?"
"God, stop!" Bucky groaned, covering his face with his hand.
Yori grinned triumphantly. "So James, go, have a nice time, and I"ll see you on Tuesday.”
"Monday," Bucky corrected him. "I have an appointment on Monday morning, so I have to come back here anyway."
What Doctor Raynor was going to say when she found out about him spending an entire weekend with Sam, he could only imagine. Maybe she’d count the relationship as a healthy connection and encourage it. Crazier things had happened, right?
"Well, if you"re not otherwise occupied on Monday, we"ll have lunch and you can tell me all about Sam’s many endearing qualities," Yori suggested with a very telling smirk.
Bucky rolled his eyes and lied, "He"s not endearing. He"s annoying.”
Yori’s face betrayed his disbelief as he said firmly, "Denial, James. I"m always right about these things.”
Bucky frowned. "Says the man who spent the last month trying to set me up with every available woman in New York City.”
He shook his head at the memories of more than a dozen awkward encounters involving himself, Yori and whichever pretty girl happened to be in the vicinity. Yori could never be told no and Bucky was starting to see him as an annoying great-uncle, who was eager to see him settled and married.
"It"s not my fault you hide things from me," Yori scolded him. "How was I to know that Cupid"s arrow had already found its mark?"
Bucky shook his head at him and said ruefully, “"I"ll see you on Monday, Yori. Thanks for looking after–"
"Trouble?" Yori suggested, smiling widely at the kitten gamboling about on the floor at his feet.
"The cat," Bucky stated firmly.
‘The cat’ chose that moment to sink her sharp little claws into his shin, and he winced, suppressing the instinct to shake her off. Grimacing, he leaned down and extracted her painfully from his leg, giving her a stern look that went ignored, the kitten batting at his hand instead of acting like she"d been properly scolded.
He set her down again and Yori remarked, “Such a beautiful creature deserves a name, James. Sam is a sweet name, don"t you think?"
"I am not naming her Sam," Bucky flatly refused.
"What are you naming her then?" Yori persisted, seeming annoyed that Bucky hadn’t jumped at the name he suggested.
"She"s not my cat," Bucky declared, stubborn in his refusal to admit that he liked having the little terror around.
"We"ll see!" Yori said smugly.
"Good night, Yori," Bucky replied, shaking his head at the old man and muttering under his breath, "Be good, Trouble.”
He left a few moments later, Yori practically shooing him out the door, not that Bucky minded. He still had some packing to do and a weekend with Sam to look forward to. It had been a long time since he’d had a vacation or someone to spend it with.
"Does going away together still count as taking it slow?" Bucky asked as he threw a pair of dark jeans in the direction of his duffel bag.
Sam paused in the middle of checking his emails to answer his question. "Well, Delacroix is my home, so technically, I"m not going away, I"m going home with you.”
"We"re going home together?" Bucky muttered, tossing the nearest item of clothing at Sam"s face when the Avenger grinned at him. "Shut up."
He was pretty sure that he was doing a bad job of packing. He hadn"t checked the weather forecast for Louisiana and there was no method to anything he was doing. He was just throwing whichever clothes were clean in his bag and hoping for the best.
"These are very nice. Sexy," Sam remarked, snatching a pair of black briefs from Bucky"s suitcase. "If they"re half as tight as your damn t-shirts, I"m gonna have a hard time concentrating, I can tell you that."
"Give me those!" Bucky exclaimed as Sam just laughed.
He held the briefs out of reach and grinned. Bucky glared at him, then launched himself at him, tackling Sam and crashing to the floor, landing on top of him as he tried to snatch his underwear back. His breath caught in his throat as Sam writhed beneath him.
He was suddenly, achingly aware of how aroused he was by the feeling of his body pressed right up against Sam’s. Sam was aware of it too if his sharp gasp was any indication. All the amusement faded suddenly from Sam"s face. His eyes darkened with lust as he rolled his hips just slightly, an unsolicited gasp falling from Bucky"s lips as Sam pressed against him just that little bit harder.
Sam was hard too and that thought brought Bucky’s brain to a standstill. There was a long pause as he looked at Sam, his lips parting slightly as he struggled to control his breathing. All his senses were going into overdrive and his own ragged breaths were loud in his ears.
He was almost too afraid to move. There was a tightness and a tension between them. Something was about to break, one way or the other. Sam gave him a slight nod, letting him know that the decision was his. This didn"t have to go any further. He could move away from him right now, no harm, no foul.
Bucky released a long, shuddering breath and moved. He ground his hips against Sam. Pleasure sparked through him in a wave, rising from the point where his and Sam"s bodies touched, filling his stomach and then his chest with a tingling, fluttering feeling that spread quickly through his veins, setting his nerves on fire. God, he wanted to do that again.
He ground against him a second time, dragging his hardness against Sam achingly slowly, his head falling back as a moan of wanton need escaped his lips. To say it felt good was an understatement. This was heaven. It was Nirvana. It was Swarga and Elysium. He didn"t want to stop, but he hesitated, scarcely able to draw breath when he saw the look of bliss on Sam"s face.
"Breathe, Buck. It"s really okay," Sam murmured, bringing a hand up to cup Bucky"s cheek, reassuring him and drawing him down into a sweet kiss that quickly turned heated and intense as he traced Sam"s lips with his tongue and then licked into his mouth.
A tiny, needy whimper escaped him as he melted into the heat and sweetness of Sam"s mouth. Sam"s touch reassured him and grounded him, giving him the sense of safety and security he needed to chase his own pleasure. He lost himself in the savage thrill of it, every roll of his hips dragging him deeper into an ocean of sweet, sensual bliss.
He rocked against Sam, gradually increasing his pace, grinding his hips against Sam"s in delicious friction, completely lost in the waves of pleasure crashing through him. Sam"s hands drifted down to his hips, anchoring and directing him, gripping him hard enough to leave bruises that would fade all too quickly. The intensity within him built, reaching a crescendo and breaking over him in a wave of searing, tingling pleasure that filled every part of him.
Sam was nearly completely incoherent, trembling and whispering his name over and over. "Bucky, Bucky…"
He bucked his hips wildly and Bucky moaned into Sam"s mouth, heat and sticky wetness enveloping him as he came, riding the high out with Sam beneath him. His movements stilled at last, and he struggled to catch his breath, still pressed against Sam, who was in a similar state of breathlessness, his heart pounding beneath Bucky"s cheek as he rested his head against Sam"s chest.
"You know," Sam said with a lazy, contented smile. "I"m starting to think you don"t know what taking it slow means."
"Maybe not," Bucky agreed with a soft laugh.
He liked Sam like this, all blissed out and breathless, he decided. If it was going to be like this every time he was with him, he doubted he"d be able to take it slow. He picked up the black briefs that Sam was teasing him about earlier. He"d almost forgotten about them.
"I think I"ll be needing these," Bucky commented with a frown. "I might pack a few extra pairs, just in case."
"That’s probably a good idea," Sam agreed, looking like he was struggling not to laugh.
"I think I need a shower," Bucky muttered, heat and embarrassment rising.
Sam just grinned up at him and said, "We could share.”
Bucky frowned. "That"s not taking it slow.”
A low chuckle rumbled through Sam"s chest and Bucky pressed closer to him, savoring the sweetness of that sound, and maybe Sam was right. He didn"t know what taking it slow meant. ‘Slow’ sounded safe to him. The alternative was taking it fast, and that sounded terrifying. He preferred to take it slow, even if he wasn’t altogether sure if he was doing it right. Whatever speed this was… felt good.
Bucky hadn"t spoken in hours. It was starting to concern Sam. Somehow, he and Bucky had gotten through airport security, an entire flight and baggage claim without speaking. It wasn"t that he hadn"t tried. It was just that Bucky had limited himself to one word responses like "good," "fine," and "okay."
He couldn"t tell if something was wrong or if Bucky was just … being Bucky. He did this. Bucky was the kind of guy that most people would classify as strong and silent. He was just that type. Normally, it wouldn"t have worried him. It was just that Bucky hadn"t spoken much since he"d dry humped him into an orgasm on the floor of his apartment.
That was completely unexpected. He could count on one hand the number of times he"d seen Bucky let someone touch him. He had fully anticipated Bucky having some issues and even some hesitation around physical intimacy, and he"d been prepared to be patient with him and wait until Bucky felt ready, to take things as slowly as he needed him to be.
To be fair, Bucky did hesitate… for all of thirty seconds. Then he took complete control of the moment, and Sam let him and it was so goddamn intense and amazing that he could honestly say he had no regrets about it. He got that Bucky maybe needed it to be that way, to be the one taking the lead. It might take some time before he realized that Sam wouldn’t hurt or pressure him in any way and that was okay.
He didn"t know a whole lot about what exactly Hydra did to Bucky, but he knew enough to realize how important it was for Bucky to feel like he wasn’t going to be forced into anything. So he let him take the lead and set a pace that they were both comfortable with, especially when it came to the more physical aspects of their relationship.
Up until yesterday, they had been taking it slow. There had been little touches here and there. Bucky had let him hug him and hold him after a nightmare. There had been soft, tentative kisses that had gotten more heated and intense.
And then… Well, if he wanted to be mathematical about it, grinding plus friction multiplied with Bucky"s tongue equaled a mind blowing orgasm that he and Bucky hadn"t talked about. By the time he located his car in the airport parking lot, he had just about reached his limit as far as silence was concerned though. He let Bucky throw his bag in the trunk and then placed a hand on his arm, halting him before he could get in the passenger seat.
"Hey, is everything okay?" Sam asked, his voice low and anxious. "You"ve hardly said two words since we left New York."
"Everything"s fine, Sam," Bucky said, seeming almost confused by the question.
"Okay, I just wanted to check," Sam muttered, shaking his head and stepping back. "We haven"t really talked about what happened last night, so…"
Bucky frowned. "I didn"t realize we needed to.”
"Well, since we"re on the subject, how do you feel about it?" Sam asked quietly.
He couldn"t interpret the expression on Bucky"s face and he frowned, his concern deepening. This was exactly what he"d been worried about. He needed to know that Bucky was going to be able to tell him if things were moving at a pace that he wasn"t comfortable with. Even if Bucky was kind of the instigator last night, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get spun out by how fast things happened.
"I feel like it was fast…" Bucky admitted and Sam sighed, having suspected as much. "...but it wasn’t a bad kind of fast. It was more just… intense and… it was amazing, Sam. Honestly, I haven"t really stopped thinking about it.”
Sam struggled not to grin and said quite casually, "So you"d… you"d want to do that again, maybe?"
"Yeah, I"d definitely do that again," Bucky said with a soft laugh, but then he sobered. "Was it… okay?"
"Okay?" Sam repeated incredulously. "Buck, you blew my mind. You’re kind of amazing."
How Bucky could doubt that, he didn"t know. Hydra, probably. He shook his head and smiled to himself. He couldn"t quite resist pressing Bucky against the car door and kissing him. He didn"t want there to be any doubt in his mind about what he thought and felt.
"So we"re okay?" Bucky murmured when Sam broke away from his lips to breathe.
"Yeah, Buck. I just wanted to make sure. You seemed more quiet than usual," Sam admitted, his concern reflected in his tone.
"I"m fine, Sam. I was just thinking, that"s all," Bucky said, shrugging his shoulders.
"What about?" Sam asked curiously.
"I figured out what I want," Bucky said quietly.
Sam smiled. "What"s that?"
He happened to glance over Bucky’s shoulder then and noticed a couple frowning at him from across the parking lot. He knew that look all too well and he quickly let go of Bucky and put some distance between them. He knew better than to be shoving a white man up against a car in public, even if the man in question was his boyfriend.
The couple probably thought he was trying to steal the car or threaten Bucky or both. He stifled a groan, tempted for a moment to let Bucky drive. He thought better of it though. It was his car after all and he and Bucky weren’t that far out of Delacroix. He was going home, not to a goddamn police station.
"I want to name the cat," Bucky admitted, smiling at him as Sam moved around to the driver"s side.
"That"s what you"ve been thinking about for hours?" Sam exclaimed incredulously.
"Yeah," Bucky said defensively. "It has to be the right name, Sam."
Sam shook his head at him as he opened the door and slid into the driver"s seat. He forced himself to smile and give the couple across the lot a friendly wave. The last thing he needed was to start his weekend being arrested. That was sure to put a damper on things.
He was thankful to make it to Delacroix without incident. No arrests, no police sirens and no arguments with Bucky. It was a good day. The sky overhead was a little overcast, the dark clouds signaling an approaching storm. He didn"t mind a bit of wild weather. He"d lost count of the hours he"d spent counting thunder claps when he was a kid.
It had been one of his favorite games, watching and waiting for a storm to hit. After all these years, he was still chasing storms. He always had to be right in the thick of the action. He blamed Riley for that. He was a bad influence. It was almost like healing, having the chance to talk to Bucky about him.
"Sam, pull over," Bucky said suddenly, leaning forward in his seat and startling him.
"What? Why?" Sam asked with a frown.
"Just pull over," Bucky said, repeating his request. "We"re gonna miss it."
"Miss what?" Sam asked blankly, pulling the car over anyway.
"Wait here. I"ll be back in a minute," Bucky muttered as soon as Sam put the car in ‘park,’ climbing out and shutting the door behind him without a word of explanation.
Sam stared after him, utterly bewildered. The minutes ticked slowly by and just when Sam had decided to get out of the car and go looking for him, Bucky returned, carrying a large bakery box. The tantalizing smell of fresh Beignets soon filled the car, making Sam"s stomach rumble. He bit back a grin and opened the door for Bucky.
"Hungry, are you?" Sam asked teasingly, watching Bucky carefully balance the box on his lap as he climbed back inside the car.
"I"m not showing up at your sister"s empty handed again," Bucky declared, rolling his eyes at him and fumbling with the seatbelt. "I told you last time I should"ve bought something–"
"And I told you that you didn"t have to," Sam insisted, cutting across him. "Everyone was just happy to see you."
He shook his head at him when Bucky immediately opened his mouth to protest. It had been months and he was still trying to get it through Bucky"s head: he was enough. He didn"t need to win his family over, they already liked him. Nobody was looking to condemn him for the Winter Soldier, least of all his nephews, who thought Bucky was the coolest and most mysterious guy on the planet.
"Everyone bought me presents and I had nothing to give them," Bucky muttered guiltily.
Sam shook his head. "Christmas is not about presents, Bucky.”
"Oh, come on, Sam! That"s just what you tell the kids. Tell me you don"t like getting presents," Bucky said stubbornly.
Sam just grinned, his fingers lightly tracing Bucky’s arm. "Well, it depends on the present.”
He couldn"t quite help smiling at him. Bucky was the biggest kid of all when it came to the holidays. His whole face lit up like a Christmas tree when he started humming along to old carols and unwrapping presents. He loved seeing him like that, all soft and sweet, more like the Bucky Steve remembered and less like the Winter Soldier.
"Okay. I got you the very last one," Bucky said proudly, passing him a paper bag containing an enormous slice of lemon Chantilly cake.
Sam grinned and kissed his cheek in thanks. "You remembered.”
"Of course I remembered, Mister Birnin-Zana-Doesn"t-Have-Any-Decent-Bakeries," Bucky muttered, rolling his eyes at him.
"It doesn"t!" Sam retorted irritably. "There are literally no bakeries in that whole marketplace. For the most technologically advanced country in the world–"
"Whatever,” Bucky grumbled, but he smiled. “You’d better eat that fast or I"ll give it to Sarah. I’ve gotta butter her up somehow."
Sam immediately started wolfing down the slice of cake. It was an ingrained instinct after years of fighting over desserts with his brother and sister. Bucky watched him and laughed, but Sam refused to feel self conscious, even when he dropped a big glob of cream on his jacket.
"You know I was kidding, right?" Bucky said with a smirk, passing him a paper napkin.
"I know. I can"t take any chances though," Sam replied, wiping his mouth and mopping up his jacket. "Thank you."
"You"re welcome, Sam," Bucky said, looking amused.
Sam grinned and scrunched up the empty paper bag into a little ball and dropped it in the empty cup holder. He"d find a trash can later, he decided as he checked to make sure he hadn"t dropped any crumbs on his shirt. He nodded and smiled to himself, buckling his seatbelt and putting the car into gear. He pulled away from the curb a moment later as Bucky carefully balanced the box on his knees. It was a beautiful day in Louisiana and Sam planned to enjoy every minute of it with the man at his side.
They had been parked in Sarah"s driveway for several minutes and Bucky still hadn"t made a move to get out of the car. Sam glanced at him, trying to read his expression. Bucky appeared to be deep in thought. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Bucky shook his head at him and got out of the car, taking his box of Beignets with him.
"Do you want me to carry anything?" Sam called after him, unbuckling his seat belt and following Bucky out of the car, shutting the driver side door behind him and pocketing the keys.
"No, I"m fine," Bucky said, but he looked a little flustered in Sam’s opinion, nervous no doubt, needlessly.
"Okay. Come on then," Sam replied, giving him an encouraging smile.
He supposed he and Bucky could retrieve their bags later. Bucky seemed nervous about seeing his family all of a sudden and Sam was a little worried about how long that would last. Bucky wasn"t what he would call shy, but he did get cold and distant when he was unsure of himself.
He knocked on the front door and Sarah called, "It"s open!”
"After you," Sam insisted, holding the door open for Bucky.
The super soldier flashed him a grateful smile and stepped into the house. Bucky didn"t make it more than three steps before Sarah wrapped him up in a tight hug. Sam followed him inside and almost laughed at the look of surprise on Bucky"s face. It was a pretty decent ‘I told you so.’ He’d told Bucky his family were always happy to see him. He was looking at the proof.
"Bucky! It is wonderful to see you again," Sarah declared with a bright smile.
"Yeah, you too," Bucky said awkwardly. "I brought dessert."
"That is so thoughtful," Sarah said gratefully, accepting the box Bucky passed her. "Thank you. Come into the kitchen and I"ll make you a drink. Do you like iced tea?"
"Sure," Bucky replied with a little shrug, following her.
Sam just grinned and shook his head. Watching Bucky Barnes, master assassin and super soldier, try to fend his sister"s hugs off with a box of Beignets was the highlight of his day. He raised an eyebrow when his sister didn"t even acknowledge his presence, devoting all her attention to Bucky instead.
"What am I, invisible?" Sam muttered, tossing Sarah a look.
"Trust me, you"re not," Bucky replied as he placed a jug of iced tea on the table.
"Where are the boys?" Sam asked Sarah, grinning when she immediately set him to work, helping prepare lunch.
"Down the street. They"ll be back any minute," Sarah explained, pouring him a glass of iced tea. "One of the neighbor"s dogs had a litter of puppies. I made Cass promise not to bring one home."
"Why?" Sam asked with a frown.
A dog would be good for the boys in his opinion, not that it counted for much. Sarah worked a lot and he was rarely here. Having a dog to look after would keep Cass and AJ occupied though. He couldn’t help thinking that there were worse things they could devote their time to than a fluffy four legged companion.
"Do I look like I have time to look after a dog and two boys and a business?" Sarah asked impatiently, propping a hand on her hip and glaring at him.
"Don"t look at me, I"m a cat person," Bucky declared, smoothly sidestepping the argument.
"You have a cat?" Sarah said with an air of faint surprise.
"A kitten, really," Bucky muttered with a shrug. "I have some pictures on my phone."
He was already slipping his phone out of his pocket and pulling up pictures to show Sarah. Sam glanced at the screen and shook his head. Bucky had dozens of pictures of the kitten he had sworn he wasn"t keeping for a month now. He knew he was kidding himself with that. That little feline had Bucky right where she wanted him.
"Let me see!" Sarah exclaimed eagerly. "Aww, she"s adorable! Look at those big blue eyes… What"s her name?"
"She doesn"t have one yet," Bucky admitted, shaking his head. "I"m taking suggestions at the moment."
"I can"t wait to see that little cutie pie in person," Sarah declared as Sam stifled a laugh.
"That"s not her name," Bucky muttered, glaring at Sam as if it had been his suggestion.
"Whatever you say, cutie pie," Sam said teasingly, patting Bucky"s cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
He didn"t even realize what he"d done until he moved back and noticed Sarah gaping at him. He stifled a groan. She looked delighted. She"d been telling him to admit how he felt about Bucky for months now. He was never going to hear the end of the ‘I told you so’s and that was okay, worth it, in his opinion.
"Oh my God! Finally!" Sarah exclaimed gleefully. "Tell me everything!"
There was a convenient distraction when Cass and AJ entered the house, talking excitedly. Sam hurried to greet them, avoiding looking at Sarah. It was only a brief reprieve and he knew it. His sister was going to get every last detail. Sam realized that he didn’t care about that because Bucky finally knew how he felt about him, taking things slow or not. That was all he wanted: mutual acceptance and love if he was lucky.