Work Text:
Bucky was not clingy.
Sam snorted. “Shut up. You are the literal human embodiment of a cat.”
Okay, maybe that wasn’t untrue, seeing as Bucky was currently sprawled across the sofa with his head in Sam’s lap. Sam was using the arm of the couch to balance his laptop and work on an email, every now and then pausing to run a hand through Bucky’s hair.
“Cats are the least clingy pet you could have,” Bucky protested, pretending his entire body hadn’t melted like butter as Sam gently scratched his scalp. Sheer bliss.
“No, cats are the clingiest animals in the world. They just act all aloof, like they don’t care about anyone and anything. Which is exactly what you do.”
Bucky scoffed. Bullshit. “My new therapist says I have gotten much better at communication.” He then proceeded to bite back a disgruntled hum as Sam pulled his hand away to continue typing on his laptop—notably, Bucky therefore failed to communicate his displeasure about the loss of Sam’s touch. So he was a hypocrite. Sue him. But he was not clingy.
“And you have gotten better!” Sam agreed. His brow furrowed, and he deleted something on his screen before he continued. “But you still have a tendency to lurk, staring at me all intently and hoping I’ll figure out what you want.” He gave Bucky a small smirk. “I mean, it helps that you’re easy as hell to read, but one day I’m not gonna know what you’re looking for unless you up and say it.”
Bucky could concede Sam had a point there. Unfortunately. Though he kept this conclusion to himself. “Okay, maybe, but what you’re describing is my so-called ‘staring problem.’” He used dramatic finger quotes to drive his sarcasm home. “Not clinginess.”
Sam tilted his head. “Touché.” He frowned as he rubbed a smudge from the edge of his screen. “But they go hand in hand. You struggle to say what you mean, and a byproduct of that issue is you end up following me around like a lost puppy—”
“What happened to your cat analogy?”
“—ha! Shut up, you know Sarah’s the one who studied literature.” Sam paused to add another few sentences to the email he was drafting. Bucky had always found it endearing, the way the tip of Sam’s tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth whenever he was concentrating. “Anyways. My point is that you are a little bit clingy. It’s not a bad thing.”
Bucky frowned. “You sure? Given the lecture you just afforded me, I was kind of under the impression it was.” Which was fine. Bucky considered himself open to constructive criticism, especially from Sam, since there was no one’s opinion he cared about more. But now he was getting mixed signals. Bucky didn’t know whether he needed to process Sam’s feedback as reason to change or not to change his behavior—behavior that, for the record, was not clingy.
“No, I think your clinginess is adorable.” Sam tapped the tip of Bucky’s nose with his pinky. “Case in point, lap cat.”
Mm. Bucky had no comeback for that one.
“But I do want you to be more direct about what you want from me,” Sam continued, returning his attention to his laptop. “Baby steps, of course. I don’t expect you to burst into a whole soliloquy at every minor inconvenience like—like your name is Hamlet or some shit. Just…” He shrugged. “Don’t be afraid to be a little selfish with me, I guess.” He winked at Bucky. “I mean, I am pretty irresistible.”
“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled, mostly because Sam had a point. Which Sam seemed perfectly aware of, at least based on the smirk that hadn’t left his lips even after he’d again returned to drafting his stupid email. SHIELD never gave Captain America a day off.
Still. Sam wanted Bucky to be more direct about his wants, did he?
Bucky could work with that.
He grabbed Sam’s left arm, ignoring Sam’s squawk of protest as he pressed a kiss to the inside of his partner’s wrist. “I want you to stop working,” Bucky instructed, punctuating each word with another kiss up Sam’s arm to his wrist and hand, “and I want you to pay attention to me.”
Aw, shit. Maybe he was a little clingy.
“Buck, I’m almost done with my response—”
Bucky most sincerely did not give a fuck. He sat up so he could shift his position on the couch and face Sam directly, pressing quick, feather-light kisses down Sam’s jawline that made his partner huff with laughter.
“You are a menace.”
Bucky grinned at him. “I’m your menace.”
“Clingy.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, maybe once I finish this email—”
This time Bucky shut Sam up with a proper kiss, relishing in the warmth of Sam’s lips on his. Because Bucky wanted Sam to kiss him. He wanted that stupid email to wait for another few hours. He wanted to spend quality time with his boyfriend. And based on how Sam finally slammed his laptop shut in order to free both his hands and drop them to grip Bucky’s waist?
Yeah, seemed like Sam wanted those things, too.