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“Did you have a good New Year’s, James?” Dr. Raynor asks, not yet picking up her notebook.
Bucky doesn’t react to the question. Instead, he stares at the floor and watches a piece of fuzz get stuck in the short carpet.
I hope they vacuum this place, Bucky thinks, some amputees have weak lungs, it wouldn’t be very therapeutic if they were forced into a room filled with dust.
“James?” Dr. Raynor says.
Bucky’s gaze snaps up. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head, “what?”
“How was your New Year’s?” She repeats, keeping her calm smile.
Bucky sighs and shrugs. “It was alright,” he says. His eyes drift to the window, watching the trees blow in the wind.
“What did you do?” Raynor asks.
Bucky glances at her before redirecting his eyes to his prosthetic in his lap, he taps against the tips of the fingers gently as he thinks.
“I, uh…” stayed away from the snow, his mind supplies, but he doesn’t say that. If he did, then Dr. Raynor would probably go on about triggers and he’ll need to talk about the new plans for his exposure therapy and Bucky doesn’t want his first session of the year to be about that.
“I spent it with Steve, our families had it together, like always,” he ends up saying.
“Sounds nice, do you guys have any traditions?”
“Other than getting drunk?” Bucky raises an eyebrow and Dr. Raynor gives a polite laugh.
“Uhm…” Bucky continues, “we always end up watching Lord of the Rings until it gets to midnight, I remember The Fellowship way better than any of the others.”
“That sounds great, James,” Dr. Raynor smiles, Bucky manages a grimace.
“Did you go to the group talk I told you about last session?” She asks.
Shit, Bucky thinks.
“Uhh… no.” Bucky picks at a loose thread on his jeans, trying to not see Dr. Raynor’s stern look in his peripheral vision.
“I was going to,” he tries amending, “but I just thought, I don’t really have anything to share? And I can’t imagine what they would tell me so…”
“So you figured you wouldn’t try,” Dr. Raynor says, not-so-inconspicuously picking up the notebook.
This is a trap, Bucky thinks, I can feel it.
“Well, I just figured it wasn’t worth my time.”
“Really?” Dr. Raynor raises her eyebrows, “so what did you do with your time instead?”
Bucky stays silent, because Dr. Raynor has a bullshit detector that will go off if he says anything other than ‘watched kids cartoons the whole day’.
“Do you have any resolutions, James?”
Bucky shakes his head, not elaborating.
“Have any of your friends set resolutions?”
Bucky scratches his head in thought, then tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear.
“Uhm, Sam and Steve are gonna go running like… every day or something. Which they do already, so… it’s not exactly new. Nat said she has some but she’s keeping them to herself. I think Sharon wanted to get promoted?” Bucky rambles.
“Is there any particular reason you didn’t set any?” Dr. Raynor asks, Bucky can tell she’s waiting for him to say something else to put in the notebook.
“Just didn’t feel like it. And I wouldn’t know what to have as a resolution.” There’s a lot to take into account, my resolutions would be longer than the Lord of The Rings, Bucky thinks, then he inwardly rolls his eyes, I’m thinking about Lord of The Rings too much.
“Would you say you feel like you don’t know where to start?”
Goddamn mind-reader, Bucky thinks as he tries to nonchalantly tilt his head.
“I guess,” he says, shrugging.
“You know, I was reading an article the other day,” Raynor starts, an inspired edge in her tone, which may not bode well for Bucky. “It was about a woman who had what she called a ‘Yes-year’, where she spent a year saying yes to everything.”
Oh no. A sinking feeling fills Bucky’s chest.
“I don’t recall what she thought of it, but I think it might be helpful for you.”
“Really?” Bucky asks, sarcasm-laced.
Dr. Raynor folds her arms and gives Bucky a look as if he’s a toddler who won’t eat his vegetables.
“James, from what I’ve heard from all of our sessions, you tend to shy away from… pretty much everything.”
Bucky tries to refrain from rolling his eyes and directs his gaze back to the carpet instead.
He doesn’t shy away from everything. He avoids snow, cars, gasoline, the cold, and driving, for obvious reasons. He avoids anything he can’t do with one arm, again, for obvious reasons. He avoids meeting new people because he’s awkward as shit and doesn’t like talking about himself. He avoids hanging out with people he knows because if he does then he has to pretend to be some semblance of a functioning human. He avoids going outside because he hates to be perceived.
But he doesn’t avoid… Steve, for example. Or work. Those are things he does.
Okay, I might shy away from a lot of things, Bucky admits to himself, but not everything.
“It can be hard, starting again,” Dr. Raynor softens her tone, “but saying no to everything won’t make the problem go away.”
“And saying yes to everything will?” Bucky sasses.
“It’s getting yourself out there,” Dr. Raynor continues, “it’s trying things, experimenting and finding what works instead of just assuming that it won’t.”
Bucky shakes his head weakly, already beginning to tune out.
“Will you just consider it?” Dr. Raynor asks.
Bucky sighs. “Alright,” he says, mostly to appease her.
“See,” she says, leaning back, “you’re doing great already.”
-
“Saying yes to everything?” Natasha asks.
“I know!” Bucky says, “it’s so stupid. ‘Hey Bucky, you wanna go hiking in the woods?’ ‘Yeah sure! Who could resist triggering a panic attack?’,” Bucky complains.
“I don’t think she meant it like that, Buck,” Steve says, “I assume you’re allowed to have some boundaries.”
“Whose side are you on?” Bucky asks, pointing his pen threateningly at Steve.
The three of them are meant to be preparing to pitch an ad for some soft drink company, but Bucky has been stewing in his bad mood since his session with Dr. Raynor.
“I’m on your side, Bucky, but… she has a point?” Steve winces.
Bucky gapes. “Steve! What the hell?”
“Bucky, I’m not gonna get too into it now ‘cause we got clients coming in like ten minutes but,” Steve says, holding a hand out, “like her, I want you to get out there.”
Bucky is one part pissed and another part touched at Steve agreeing with Raynor. The conversation about his detachedness from real life definitely sounds better coming from him than it did from her.
“So, I should say yes to everything for a year?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Pff,” Steve laughs, “I wouldn’t say that, you would not be able to do it.”
Excuse me?
“Excuse me?” Bucky asks, “you sound so sure, Stevie, why would you say that?”
“A year is a long time, Buck,” Steve argues.
It’s been almost two years since the crash and it still feels like fucking yesterday, Bucky thinks. But he keeps it to himself since he doesn’t want to sound like some edgelord, at least not today.
“I just don’t think it would be that hard,” Bucky says instead.
“I was gonna stay out of this but I think I agree with Rogers,” Natasha pipes up from where she’s preparing the presentation.
“Guys, the reason I’m not doing it is because it’s dumb, not because I couldn’t,” Bucky assures and crosses his leg over the other.
“Bucky, are you serious?” Steve almost laughs, making annoyance and competitiveness flare up in Bucky’s chest. “You’ve always been shy, even before-. Anyway, do you genuinely think you could do it?” Steve raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Bucky says, his mouth moving before he thinks.
“You wanna bet?”
“Absolutely.”
“I bet you 50 bucks you will not be able to last an entire year.”
“Done,” Bucky says resolutely, holding out his hand. Steve takes it and they shake once.
“You guys are so stupid.” Nat shakes her head.
Bucky’s about to respond when the door to the meeting room opens, in come Sharon and the clients.
“Hey, Bucky, could you hold this door? I need to grab something and we have more people coming in.”
Bucky turns and gives a pointed look to Steve.
“Yes,” he says. Then he directs his attention back to Sharon with a smile.
“Right… okay,” Sharon says, slightly confused but lets Bucky take over.
Bucky holds the door open with his body and takes his phone out of his pocket, typing out a message to Dr. Raynor.
Bucky: I’ve decided to give your resolution a try
He turns off and pockets the phone before he can see if Dr. Raynor is replying.
It’s no big deal, Bucky thinks, how hard could it be?
-
“Hey can you go get me a coffee, Buck? Thanks.”
“Okay, we definitely need some rules.” Bucky glares at Steve across their lunch table, who just smiles evilly back at him.
“I have to be allowed to say no to things that I literally can’t do,” Bucky starts, stabbing at his salad. “Like… jump-roping or something.”
“I agree,” Steve nods.
“I can say no to things that fuck me over,” Bucky stabs again, “like cars and snow and stuff.”
“Your triggers, yeah,” Steve says, “that’s for you and your therapist to figure out.”
“Yeah, those…” Bucky mumbles, shoving lettuce in his mouth. Steve gives him that look that he gives whenever Bucky avoids calling his triggers what they are: triggers.
‘Triggers’ brings the mood down, Bucky thinks, and I’m not wrong when I say they fuck me over.
But he ignores the argument this time.
“I can say no to you and Nat, because you guys know I’m doing this and I don’t want to deal with you two taking advantage of it.”
“Bucky, c’mon,” Steve laughs.
“No, don’t give me that bullshit.” Bucky holds his fork out to point at Steve. “You were gonna ask me to do everything just so you could get your goddamn 50 bucks, well I’m not falling for it. I’m making it a rule, I can say no to both you and Nat.”
Steve sighs, crossing his arms and shaking his head. But Bucky can tell that he’s right. Steve’s always been a sore loser even if he hides it well.
Which is exactly why I’m gonna fucking win, Bucky thinks.
Bucky may be a sore loser too.
“And I probably shouldn’t do anything that’s like… bad? You know?” Bucky finishes.
“Bad? What do you mean?” Steve asks.
“Like…” Bucky waves his hand, “if someone asked me to push someone?”
“Bucky, why the hell would they do that?” Steve laughs.
“I’m just trying to cover all my bases, I’m not gonna give you 50 bucks just so I don’t have to be a dick.”
“Alright, I guess, I still don’t get it though.”
Bucky sighs, frustrated. “Like if… someone had told me they wanted to have the last donut.” Bucky gestures to the open donut box on the snack table. “And someone else came in and asked me to pass it to them.”
Steve raises his eyebrows, “that’s a very specific situation.”
“You can transfer the theory elsewhere, dipshit.”
“Woah!” A familiar voice comes from behind Bucky. He spins around to see Sam headed towards him.
He’s wearing a nice blue and green checkered shirt tucked into some fitted beige slacks, his jacket’s slung across his arm and he’s holding his messenger bag.
Must’ve just got in, Bucky thinks. Then Bucky remembers that Sam hasn’t been in the office since they went away for New Year’s.
“Hey, Sam!” Steve says while Bucky thinks.
“What are you guys arguing about? Thought I was Bucky’s nemesis?”
“Nothing, Steve’s just being annoying,” Bucky replies quickly, “where’ve you been, Sam? Did you get extra time off or something?”
Sam pulls an energy bar out of his bag, sitting down next to Bucky and letting his shoulder brush against Bucky’s right arm. His bicep is warm.
His jacket’s probably pretty good, then, Bucky thinks, I should ask him where he got it, I always need jackets.
“My sister,” Sam starts, making Bucky clock back in to pay attention. “She had her second kid the other week, I wanted to be there.”
“Congratulations!” Steve says.
Bucky gives Sam a pat on the back as he grins widely.
“Congrats,” he mumbles warmly, and Sam turns to him briefly, giving a small smile.
“Thanks, his name is AJ.” Sam looks down to open his energy bar up.
“He seem like a troublemaker?” Bucky raises an eyebrow, keeping his gaze on Sam.
Sam bursts out a laugh. “If he’s anything like his mother, then yes.”
“More like if he’s anything like his uncle,” Bucky directs to Steve but quickly looks back to catch Sam’s mock-offended reaction.
“This is how I’m welcomed back?” Sam asks Steve incredulously.
“Hey, I’m being nice! Bucky’s the asshole here,” Steve retorts.
“He always is,” Sam nods, earning himself a shove from Bucky.
Steve kicks up a conversation about the new clients they talked with, which Bucky doesn’t particularly care for, so he directs his attention to finishing his salad before he needs to get back to work. Eventually, he gets up and heads to the sink to clean his container.
“Hey, Barnes,” Nick Fury, Bucky’s boss, says, strolling towards him.
He turns and tilts his head in question as Fury gestures to the water machine.
“Could you take the empty water bottles over for recycling? They’ve been sitting there for days.”
It’s Stark’s turn, Bucky thinks. The words are on the tip of his tongue but then he remembers.
“Yeah,” he musters a smile, “sure.”
“Good,” Fury says, then heads over to strike up a conversation with Maria.
Bucky huffs and washes his dish in the sink. He places it on the drying rack then heads over to pick up an empty water bottle. While he’s walking to the recycling he catches Steve’s eye and, like a true adult, he sticks his tongue out at him. Steve laughs, making Sam start to turn, so Bucky quickly schools his expression back to normal. When he leaves the room he smirks at Sam’s confused face.
So far, so good.
-
Because of the stupid resolution, Bucky now has an email full of coupons for golfing equipment. He only wanted to have a casual conversation with one of their new clients and the man had asked if Bucky wanted to know about more of the deals they had.
So far, Bucky thinks, I don’t see how getting 50% off on neon coloured golf balls is getting me ‘out there’.
He was about to head home but he’d been caught up by sifting through all the junk he was sent. Now, he’s considering just giving up and doing it another day.
“You into golf?” Sam says from behind Bucky, causing him to jump ten feet in the air.
“Jesus, Sam!” Bucky holds his hand to his chest. Sam chuckles, a deep sound that cuts through the silence.
His shock does cause Bucky to finally look around at the darkening office, the sun starting to set.
“Shit, I didn’t realise it was getting so late,” Bucky says.
“Too busy looking at golf balls, I understand completely,” Sam says sarcastically.
Bucky rolls his eyes and closes his computer, slipping it into his bag.
“A client sent them, because I was dumb enough to agree to it.”
“That, I can believe.” Sam smiles warmly, his tooth gap and crows feet making a delightful appearance. Bucky smiles back.
“Hey, Buck…” Sam starts, his face turning slightly timid.
“Yeah?” Bucky asks, hoping it isn’t anything bad.
“Do you remember the Secret Santa?”
Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Like, the last one?”
“Yeah, do you remember what I got?”
Nat was Sam’s Secret Santa, she got him gift cards for a bowling alley in the mall that’s close by.
“Oh yeah, the gift cards for Lucky Strike, right?”
“Yeah,” Sam nods, the timidness returning, “I was wondering if, uh, you wanted to come with me to use them? Maybe this weekend?”
Outside… people… social interaction… hmmmm, I might pass, sorry, Sam, Bucky thinks, then remembers.
Ah… the fucking resolution.
“Why me?” Bucky asks, genuinely curious, not at all trying to delay.
“Well…” Sam rubs the back of his neck, “I figured it was time to, you know… tell you how I feel.”
Huh?
“I was talking about you, a lot, to people during the break,” Sam continues. “I guess my sister got fed up with me and told me to stop fucking around and just… tell you that I, you know, like you,” Sam says, laughing awkwardly.
Bucky feels like his joints are glued shut. Sam likes me??? He thinks, as in likes me?
“If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine,” Sam starts, taking in Bucky’s stunned silence, “it’s fine with me and hopefully it’ll be… fine with you…” Sam gives Bucky a smile but Bucky can see the anxiety behind it.
As if I’d ever stop being Sam’s friend, Bucky thinks incredulously, then realising that he still hasn’t answered Sam.
“Uh…” he says.
Nice one, Bucky, Bucky rolls his eyes inwardly. Then his hand starts clamming up. Holy shit, Sam is asking me on a date.
Bucky doesn’t doubt that if he said no, everything would be fine. Maybe the banter would change, in order to not poke at any residual feelings Sam had. But eventually, it would circle back to how it’s always been.
But Bucky would always know, in the back of his mind. Also, there is the resolution. So Bucky can’t really say no.
“Sure!” Bucky says before he can think any longer.
Sam raises an eyebrow, his lips part as he gives a small but elated grin.
“Sure?” Sam asks.
“Are we just gonna keep saying that back and forth?” Bucky laughs, making Sam’s smile widen.
“Sure,” Sam repeats, nodding.
Bucky stares at Sam, Sam stares back. Something they’ve always done from across the office. Sometimes when one of them is in a meeting, just to piss each other off.
I wonder if he ever just… watched me, Bucky thinks, taking in the entirety of Sam’s face.
“Anyway,” Sam says slowly, “I’m sure you’ve gotta get back to your golf coupons.”
“Oh, of course,” Bucky nods solemnly.
“And I’ve gotta head home now,” Sam picks his coat off of a different desk.
“Right, you’ll, uh, text me the details, right? For the…” date, Bucky thinks, his heart thumping.
“Yeah, for sure.” Sam stands awkwardly in front of Bucky before nodding, mostly to himself, and heading for the door.
“Bye, Buck!” Sam shouts, tossing a look behind his shoulder.
Bucky raises his hand. “Bye,” he says, too soft for Sam to hear.
He stays sitting in the office for a few seconds then he slumps in his chair.
Sure, he may have just said yes to a date with Sam. Sure, it may have been simply because he had to as a part of his resolution. Sure, Bucky is starting to feel kind of bad and nervous and also stressed.
But how bad could it be? It’s just a date.
-
It’s Friday, one day until the date, Bucky has been on edge for the whole goddamn week. Whenever he passes Sam in the halls and Sam flashes him a grin like he always does, Bucky feels his heart in his throat.
Do I feel bad that I said yes? Bucky thinks, chewing on his lip as he watches Sam talking to Sharon through the glass windows of his office.
Truth be told, Bucky’s excited. He’s been wanting to check out the bowling alley for ages and Sam’s always fun and nice to be around.
But what if it’s weird ‘cause it’s a date, Bucky thinks, his usual self-sabotage coming in clutch.
I’ll just act like I’m into him, Bucky decides, immediately feeling a small clench of guilt in his stomach.
Bucky has been a hair's length from calling the date off since it was planned. For numerous reasons. Including but not limited to: Sam doesn’t deserve to be lied to, Bucky’s not into guys and is technically leading Sam on, and even if Bucky was into Sam, Sam is way out of Bucky’s league. Bucky hasn’t been on a date at all in ages, and he’s never been on a date with a guy.
But there are also reasons Bucky hasn’t called it off. The resolution being the first reason, and similar to that, he needs to get himself out there. And also, it can’t be that bad.
Bucky’s kind of curious what it would be like to date Sam, he half-heartedly chuckles to himself at the idea.
To sate his curiosity, he can just pretend for a while. It doesn’t seem like it’ll be too horrible to pretend to date Sam.
Sam turns and catches him looking, his mouth forms a specific smile that Bucky knows means he’s blushing. Then, Sam shakes his head and turns back to Sharon, who turns around just slow enough for Bucky to look away in time.
He turns back to his computer. Staring, but not registering anything on the screen. A hand clamps down on his shoulder.
“Buck, are you doing alright?” Steve asks, walking around and sitting next to Bucky.
“Yeah, fine,” Bucky answers, too quickly.
“You sure? I left here like twenty minutes ago and you haven’t written any more of this email.”
Bucky’s gaze flicks to the time on his computer. Yes, he has been working on this short email for a while.
“Sorry, I was just…” Bucky struggles to come up with an excuse.
“You’ve been so distracted all week, man, what’s up?” Steve looks worried, the same kind of worried he is when Bucky starts getting bad, mentally.
“It’s nothing bad,” Bucky assures, “I just…” Something in Bucky stops him from telling Steve just yet.
Steve isn’t stupid, he’s impulsive, stubborn, and has a penchant for chaos, but he definitely is the first person to call Bucky out on his bullshit. If Bucky told Steve about his predicament with Sam, he’d definitely find a way to talk him out of it and he’d be ripping Bucky’s sense of judgment to pieces in the process.
“Do you wanna get some of that expensive coffee on Sunday?” Bucky asks, “I’ll tell you about it then.”
Steve raises an eyebrow, curious, but not suspicious. “As long as you’re paying.”
Bucky scoffs. In your dreams, Rogers, he thinks but he doesn’t say that in case Steve pulls out of the plans. He does want to tell Steve, just not now, when there’s time for him to judge and prod at any weird logic Bucky has.
Bucky turns back to the email, intent on actually getting something done. If his eyes flick over to watch Sam a couple of times, Bucky resolutely fixes them back on to the screen.
Best not to think about it, he decides.
-
Bucky stares at himself in the mirror of the bathroom right beside the bowling alley, long enough that he squints and reaches up to fiddle with the way his hair falls.
If I wanted to go on a date with Sam, I’d wanna look at least semi-presentable… Where is my hair part anyway? He thinks, trying to draw a line down his head but his hair curves awkwardly. He runs his hand through it to get it to fall back down naturally then he huffs and grabs the sink.
I might be sick, he thinks, I’m allowed to call it off if I’m sick, right? He shakes his head at himself, not willing to ditch Sam. Like a complete asshole.
That would make me almost as bad as someone who says yes to a date with someone they aren’t even attracted to.
His thoughts do not help with the nausea.
A buzz at his side makes him straighten up quickly and check his phone.
Sam: Hey, I’m at Lucky Strike now. I got no idea how the gift cards work so I might wait until you get here so we can figure it out, LOL.
Bucky stifles a laugh at Sam’s message, sending a quick ‘okay, cool, :)’ and pocketing his phone. A full body shiver runs through him, then he heaves a sigh, tugging at his denim jacket and wiping his sweaty hand over his black jeans.
Just fucking go, Bucky, he berates and grabs his coat, striding out the door before he can second or third guess himself.
His eyes land on Sam, who spots him shortly after as he’s scanning the mall hallway. His face relaxes into a small, nervous, smile, and Bucky feels himself mirroring the same expression.
Sam has a nice sky blue shirt on with some dark jeans that Sam slips his phone into the pocket of.
“Hey,” Bucky says once he’s close enough, his voice slightly crackly, making him clear his throat.
“Hey,” Sam replies, chuckling, “you’re looking nice.”
Bucky’s eyebrows raise, “oh, uh…” Bucky puts his hand in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders. “Thanks?” He stammers.
Fuck, I better compliment him as well, Bucky thinks. His eyes trace up and down Sam’s body, taking in the nice colours and fit of Sam’s clothes.
“You look good, too…” Bucky says, much more awkwardly than Sam.
Luckily, Sam flashes one of his brilliant smiles, and Bucky’s shoulders can relax from beside his ears.
“I try,” Sam jokes, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his shirt.
Sam looks at him and Bucky’s worries start to disappear.
“Let’s go, then?” Sam offers, nodding towards the door.
“Yeah! Let’s fucking bowl.” Bucky falls into step beside Sam, who laughs and rubs his hands together.
Sam ends up handling the gift cards, speaking charmingly to the lady at the desk and turning to Bucky after they finish talking.
“We’re at aisle 3,” Sam pats Bucky’s back towards the aforementioned aisle, setting Bucky’s nerves alight.
If I were into Sam, I’d probably want to touch him more, Bucky thinks, I can do that, sure.
His palm starts sweating again and he tries to wipe it down before he anxiously, and pathetically, taps Sam’s shoulder. His deltoid is soft but firm under Bucky’s fingertips and his shirt is smooth, probably cotton. He retracts his hand quickly once Sam looks over.
“You ever bowled before?” Bucky asks, saying the first thing that came to his mind.
“I went to a birthday party years ago, did some bowling there.” Sam strolls with Bucky up to the screen where they can see their names already written there.
“What about you?” Sam asks, leaning on a rack of bowling balls.
Sam’s shirt stretches across his pecs as he leans back, the curves of his stomach also being captured in the way his shirt falls. Bucky rips his eyes away and walks over to find a ball he could use.
“I, uh, I’ve bowled a few times, actually. Usually with Steve or my sisters.”
Wait, Bucky thinks, replaying the last two seconds in his mind, this is a date, I’m meant to look at him.
Bucky nervously brings his lip between his teeth and looks over at Sam again, who’s watching him carefully. The alleys are further into the building, away from doors that let in the light of the mall, the darkness here allows the blacklight to be in full effect. Sam’s blue shirt glows vibrantly and, as his smile grows, his teeth glow too.
“You don’t sound too sure,” Sam chuckles, finally getting off of the rack and turning around to pick his own ball. “I’m starting to think I actually have a chance.”
Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Hey, I was being modest… because, you know, I’m a good person.”
Sam laughs, then nudges Bucky with his shoulder.
“Fine, then, show me what you got.” Sam gestures towards the alley once they turn around.
Bucky takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the bowling ball by his side and setting his shoulders, figuring out how his prosthetic balances him. He sees Sam sit down on a seat behind him out of the corner of his eye. His gaze at Bucky’s back is like a heat ray, making Bucky straighten up further. He rolls his neck and does a practice swing.
“Oh my god, Buck, this isn’t the Olympics,” Sam giggles behind him.
Bucky stops and turns sassily.
“Bowling isn’t even in the Olympics,” he says simply, enjoying Sam’s eye-roll then turning around. He takes only a second to line up his shot before going for it, the ball swings steadily down by his side then he lets it go towards the pins.
It hits right in the centre, but leaves two pins to the left still standing.
“Ooh,” Sam shakes his head, a fake grimace on his face, “better luck next time.”
“Getting a strike on the first go would have been a miracle,” Bucky defends, going to get another ball.
He ends up getting the spare, earning himself a half-hearted clap from Sam.
“Alright, alright,” Sam nods, picking himself up, “but just sit back and watch.”
“Oh, I will…” Bucky laughs, only catching what he said after Sam’s smile turns bashful and he turns around with his lip between his teeth.
Oh shit, I’m flirting, Bucky thinks, seeing Sam shake himself subtly and swing, letting the ball go awkwardly. Bucky winces as it rolls dangerously close to the gutter. But it just barely hits a pin at the very end.
Bucky slaps his thigh repeatedly. “Wooo!” he yells and shakes his fist in the air triumphantly, making as much ruckus as he can. He’s glad there’s no one else at the bowling alley to witness his spectacle.
“That was amazing,” he says once Sam turns and shoots him a glare.
“Yeah, okay.” Sam rolls his eyes.
His second shot goes in the exact same route, hitting no pins.
“Look, you just need to warm up,” Bucky amends, getting his ball back and lining himself up again.
“Damn right,” Sam says, reaching to pick up the menu for snacks. Bucky notices and forgets the bowling for a second.
“What have they got?” He asks, sitting beside Sam. Sam tilts the menu near to Bucky, also leaning in closer. Bucky tries to swallow nonchalantly as he feels Sam’s heat.
This place is a bit warm, come to think of it.
“I was considering just getting some fries,” Sam says.
“Sure,” Bucky nods, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.
“Hey,” Sam grabs his wrist, “I’m paying, Buck.”
“What?” Bucky asks.
“I asked you, so I’ll pay.”
Is that how it works when it’s two guys? Bucky thinks to himself, not that a girl can’t be the one to pay if I was out with a girl, he backtracks in his mind, I’m being stupid, Sam can pay if he wants.
But Bucky’s face still scrunches up, unsure of letting Sam be the one to buy things for him.
“But-,”
“I’m paying,” Sam emphasises, gently shaking Bucky’s wrist then letting it go. The cool air hits the area of Bucky’s skin that was covered by Sam’s hand.
“Fine,” Bucky grumbles, “I can buy you coffee some time.”
Sam gives a little laugh that Bucky’s now coming to recognise as his bashful laugh, and is wondering how many times he’s drawn it out of Sam without even realising it.
“It’s your turn, go on, I’ll go order.” Sam gets up and nudges Bucky until he stands as well, heading back into place.
He doesn’t get a strike, one pin is left teetering at the back. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before lining up to get the last standing pin.
“Boo!” Sam shouts, Bucky jumps and spins, shooting Sam an annoyed glare.
“Sam, I swear to god,” Bucky tries to berate but Sam’s roaring with laughter at his stupid joke and it’s making Bucky smile.
“Okay, okay, I won’t do it again,” Sam says.
He does it again.
In fact, throughout the next seven or so rounds, he does it a few times. It’s always when Bucky least expects it, making it all the more frustrating for Bucky but hilarious for Sam. Eventually, Bucky spins around, placing the ball down and walking right up to Sam, mimicking choking him.
Sam yells out in surprise and places a hand on Bucky’s chest, stopping him from getting closer.
“Sam, I’m being serious,” Bucky threatens semi-genuinely.
“Okay!” Sam giggles melodiously, keeping his hand on Bucky even after Bucky drops his fake-choking gesture.
Bucky turns, feeling Sam’s hand slipping off his chest, sliding down under his jacket. The thin material of his henley allows him to experience the touch of Sam’s fingers tenfold. Bucky smooths his own hand down his chest but it doesn’t stop the phantom press of Sam’s fingers.
He picks the bowling ball up and lets it fly without thinking too hard, his thoughts too preoccupied with Sam’s touch and what Sam means by it and how Bucky should or shouldn’t react to it and what the hell he thinks he’s doing going on a date with Sam.
He gets a strike.
“Oh my god!” He hears Sam yell from right behind him right before he spins around and punches the air. Sam’s gaping at him when Bucky turns around.
“Easy,” Bucky says, flicking a piece of his hair. It comes right back, falling in front of his face and he has to blow it away again.
Sam laughs. “I brought a hair tie, if you want me to tie it back for you.”
Bucky pauses in his gloating as he sees Sam dig in his pocket to pull out a black hair band.
“You brought a hair tie?”
Sam shrugs, looking a bit shy.
“You forget them all the time, I kind of assumed it was a habit you’ll never get rid of.”
“Hey!” Bucky feigns offense when actually he’s reeling at the idea that Sam thinks of him that much.
“Do you want me to tie it back?” Sam asks again, holding it out.
Bucky doesn’t trust his voice so he just nods.
I’d want him to tie my hair back if I liked him, so I probably should do that.
Sam slips the hair tie onto his wrist and gestures for Bucky to walk over. Bucky’s feet move forward before he can make a fool of himself by staring at Sam, he stops and turns around just in front of Sam.
Sam gathers Bucky’s hair easily and combs it to get any bumps out. Short fingernails drag against Bucky’s scalp and the tug against his hair is gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt. Bucky tilts his head into it.
This would be even better if I were into Sam, Bucky finds himself thinking. Right now, I don’t think I could be more tense.
“I kinda wondered how you do your bun by yourself,” Sam says, shocking Bucky out of his thoughts.
“Youtube,” Bucky says. Sam chuckles as he starts securing the hair tie.
“It’s a magical place…” Sam mumbles, making Bucky laugh too.
Sam gives the ponytail a small tug to tighten it then his hands drop to Bucky’s shoulders and slide off. Bucky turns quickly and smiles at Sam.
“Thanks,” he says.
Bucky can practically feel Sam’s eyes tracing across his face, he stares back for a few seconds before clearing his throat.
“You keep throwing it the same way,” he says.
Sam furrows his eyebrows, “what?”
“The ball, you throw it wrong and you don’t correct it.”
“I didn’t know there was something to correct,” Sam says, going to pick the ball up.
“Here, just…” Bucky takes Sam’s shoulder and moves him to face the pins. “Show me how you were doing it,” Bucky says.
“Well, now I feel like you’re gonna make fun of me.”
“No!” Bucky lightly hits Sam’s shoulder, “I’m trying to help you, man, just show me.”
Sam huffs and does a practice swing, his arm swings diagonally behind him.
“See, there,” Bucky taps Sam’s arm just before it falls. “You see how it went all the way behind you? It messes up the angle and then you need to swing it all the way around again to get it to go straight.”
“So what do I do?” Sam asks, bringing the ball back into his chest.
“You need to move your legs so the ball can go, like, straight back and forth.”
Bucky cradles Sam’s forearm and elbow, guiding it directly forwards and backwards and holding it tight when it tries to veer off. Sam squats slightly to follow Bucky’s movements and it’s only then that Bucky realises how close he’s moved to Sam, as Sam’s back makes contact with Bucky’s chest.
This is pretty date-like, Bucky commends himself, making sure not to jump at the small touches from Sam’s body.
“Right,” Sam mutters. Bucky can tell his thinking to himself because he’s using his thinking-voice.
“You, uh, you got it?” Bucky asks, stammering at their proximity.
“Yeah, thanks,” Sam says, turning his head to catch Bucky’s gaze.
Bucky can see Sam’s teeth peeking out slightly in his grin. He can smell Sam's cologne, a different one than he wears at work, calming, spicy. He can almost feel Sam’s breath across his face from lips that are just barely parted. He’s so close to Sam.
Bucky takes a sudden step back, heavily guided by his head wrenching from a sudden, intense, jolt in his stomach.
“Go for it,” Bucky shoots out, “do a few practice swings first, then just follow through.”
Sam goes for it. The ball creeps agonisingly slowly towards the pins, like honey coming out of a jar. Eventually it lands to the right of the first pin, knocking down four.
Bucky claps his hand on his thigh, making Sam turn and give him a lighthearted glare.
“No, I’m being serious!” Bucky says, “you just need a bit more oomph. We still have one more round left, you can try again.”
“Oomph?” Sam asks, “is that the technical term?”
“Of course,” Bucky says sarcastically, preparing for his own shot. “Watch me, I’ll show you the right amount of oomph.”
Bucky wastes no time in hurling the ball forwards. He gets another strike.
“Holy shit!” Sam shouts.
Bucky feels the clap of Sam’s hand on his shoulder after he races up to him and he laughs. His own palm rests on Sam’s back.
“As I said,” Bucky pokes his finger into Sam’s shoulder blade, “easy. Now it’s your turn.” Bucky heads over to the seats, glancing at the scores briefly.
Sam takes his time staring out at the pins, breathing deeply and swinging the ball every now and then.
“Although,” Bucky cuts in, Sam turns and raises an eyebrow.
“There is such a thing as overthinking it,” Bucky says.
“I’m sure you have very little experience in thinking, over or otherwise,” Sam fires back, making Bucky guffaw in surprise.
“Hey!”
“Sh, I’m concentrating.” Sam turns back to the pins.
Bucky fondly shakes his head at Sam’s sass, but keeps his mouth shut. Sam suddenly takes a confident step and follows through with his arm. Bucky cranes his head as he watches the ball fly towards the pins. It hits close to the middle and scatters nine of them, leaving just one standing at the back.
“Damn it,” Sam mutters, clenching his fist.
“Hey, I think that was good! Much better than before.” Bucky says, watching Sam sit next to him and stuff a fry in his mouth.
“I guess,” Sam says with a rueful grimace.
“C’mon Sam,” Bucky scoffs, “don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s like you and that goddamn filing system.”
Bucky’s referring to when Sam was trying to find the best way to organise all the different documents for all the different clients when no one in the office had a compatible filing system. It was a project doomed to fail and, for some reason, Sam took it on.
“Don’t get me started on that again,” Sam laughs.
“You always set out to do the impossible. To be fair, you actually do it sometimes, ‘cause you’re a fucking genius. But Sam.” Bucky steals the fry Sam was reaching for and eats it, forcing Sam’s gaze towards him.
“You can’t be the best at everything immediately. You’re already too perfect, it wouldn’t be fair.”
Now that Bucky can see Sam’s face, he can fully appreciate the embarrassed smile that’s sitting there.
“Thanks, Bucky,” Sam mumbles, finishing the last of their plate.
Do people not compliment Sam? Bucky suddenly thinks, I can’t remember any times that I have, I should do that more. Especially since we’re meant to be dating, or whatever.
“Hey, I’m meant to walk my neighbour’s dog while he’s away next weekend,” Sam says, his eyes diverted to where he’s scrunching his tissue and putting it on the plate.
“Oh, cool. Mr. Bradley? Wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, he’s got a boxer named Stella.” Sam pulls out his phone as Bucky picks up the plate and both of their coats and they walk back to the snack bar. Sam enthusiastically shows Bucky a picture on his phone. It’s a selfie of Sam sitting on a front porch with a brown dog at his side, the picture’s a little shaky and Sam’s laughing at how the dog is tilting its head into him.
“Aw,” Bucky coos, taking in the bright look Sam has on and the happy, energetic pup.
“Yeah…” Sam murmurs, closing his phone and putting it back in his pocket. “Wait, I can take the plate,” he says and walks over to drop it off at the counter. Then they head back to the door.
Bucky gives Sam his coat and they stand facing each other in front of the entrance.
“Anyway,” Sam says, as if he’s just remembering something, “if you want, you could come with me to walk her?”
Another date? Bucky thinks, his heart starting to thump again.
“Sure,” Bucky says, smiling.
It’ll be fun, I like dogs, Bucky thinks, I have to say yes anyway.
“I can buy you that coffee,” Bucky adds.
“Oh hell yeah,” Sam laughs, “now you’re definitely coming.”
Bucky slips his coat on, shaking his head scornfully, “you just want my money.”
“Yeah, this is all just a ploy to get free coffee, you figured it out.”
Sam bites his lip as Bucky meets his eyes again.
Is this a kissing moment? Is kissing on the first date weird? Does Sam want to kiss me? Bucky freaks out in his mind.
“I’m headed to pick up some stuff for Sarah, so… I’ll see you then, I guess,” Sam ends up saying.
“Yeah,” Bucky says, letting out a breath, “I, uh, I had fun.”
Because he did, he had a lot of fun. If he wasn’t so stressed out about the fact that this was a date instead of just a normal hang out, he would have enjoyed it a lot more but in general, it was just like how he always hangs out with Sam.
“Me too,” Sam says, giving Bucky one last dazzling smile then waving his hand. “Bye!” He says, starting to walk backwards.
“Bye,” Bucky says back, watching him for a few seconds before realising he should also leave the bowling alley. He turns and heads the other way to the mall exit, glancing back every now and then at Sam until he turns a corner.
Bucky steps out into the street, sinking into his coat. Thinking over all the times Sam smiled when he knocked down a pin or laughed when Bucky messed up.
I’m a horrible person, Bucky thinks, Sam deserves someone who appreciates him more than I do, someone who actually wants to go on dates like that.
… But that was pretty fun.
-
“Where’s my expensive coffee, Buck?” Steve asks, appearing suddenly behind Bucky as he’s on his phone. He looks up from his messages, where Sam’s sent pictures of him and Stella, and turns his screen off.
“Hey punk, nice to see you too,” Bucky drones, then raises an eyebrow. “You thought I was actually gonna pay for you?” Bucky heads in, letting Steve follow, groaning.
“I should’ve fucking known,” Steve grumbles, with the tone of a 3 year old kicking a fuss.
“I’m sure you’ll get over it,” Bucky laughs, checking out the menu and ordering for himself.
“I’ll get over it once you tell me about whatever’s been bothering you all week.”
“Nothing’s been bothering me,” Bucky refutes.
Sam being into him didn’t bother Bucky, going on a date with Sam didn’t bother Bucky… lying to Sam did bother Bucky, but that wasn’t the main thing Bucky had been thinking about all week. He’s mostly been reeling from the fact that Sam had asked in the first place and freaking out about how exactly Bucky should act on the date.
“It’s just something that’s been on my mind,” Bucky finishes, not elaborating.
“Do you want any sugar or cream?” The barista asks.
“No, thanks,” Bucky says quickly.
“Hey!” Steve points at him once the barista leaves to make the coffee, “you’re meant to say yes.”
Bucky levels Steve with a blank stare, “if that shit goes in my coffee, I won’t drink it, and that’ll be wasteful.”
Steve sighs and rolls his eyes, stepping up to order his own drink.
“Well, are you gonna tell me?” Steve asks once they move away from the counter.
Bucky tugs at the strap of his prosthetic under his shirt, then moves his hand to check his hair bun. As he pulls at his hair gently, he remembers how Sam’s hands felt in it.
“We can sit down first,” Bucky chuckles awkwardly. “Jeez, you’re so impatient.”
Steve shuts up for the rest of the time they spend waiting for their coffees. When they’re done, they take them over to a small table in the corner and Steve watches as Bucky takes a slow sip.
“You’re such a jerk,” Steve says, dead-pan, making Bucky laugh and almost spit out his coffee.
“Okay, okay,” he says, trying to laugh out the nerves in his stomach.
“I, uh,” Bucky meets Steve’s eyes for a brief second then diverts them to the window.
God, this is such a stupid idea, Steve is gonna think I’m a fucking idiot.
“Sam…” Bucky says, “he asked me out.”
Steve’s eyebrows raise, but nothing else in his face changes. Almost too controlled.
“Oh,” Steve says, clasping his hands on the table. “What did… what did you say?”
Bucky gives Steve an incredulous look, “what do you mean ‘what did I say’ you know what I said.”
Bucky rolls his eyes when Steve squints confusedly.
“The resolution, dumbass.”
Steve’s jaw drops as he stares at Bucky for a few seconds.
“You said yes to a date with Sam because of your New Year’s resolution?”
“I mean-, I had to, didn't I?” Bucky argues.
Steve doesn’t seem that convinced. “I don’t think the point of the resolution was to go out with anyone who asked,” he says, lifting his cup to his mouth.
“Well, the point of the resolution wasn’t to get an email full of golf equipment deals, but that happened.” Bucky looks annoyedly at his coffee.
“Buck, I’m not sure about this.” Steve grimaces at him, making Bucky’s blood boil.
“Well…” Bucky says petulantly, not continuing and instead taking a sip of his coffee.
“When is the date? Maybe you can still cancel.”
“I can’t,” Bucky says.
“Why not?”
Because I don’t want to ‘cause it’s really not that big of a goddamn deal, Steve, Bucky snipes in his head.
“The date was yesterday,” he says instead, because it’s true.
“What!?” Steve asks, raising his voice loud enough that people glance over at their table.
“Jesus, Steve, quiet down,” Bucky says, his nerves building again at Steve’s reaction.
“Yesterday?” Steve asks, still looking at Bucky like he’s crazy but lowering his voice.
“Yeah, we used the bowling alley gift cards he got for secret santa.”
“You seem so…” Steve waves his hands around, “chill about this,” he says, folding his arms.
Bucky shrugs, turning to see out the window again.
“I don’t know, it’s just not that big of a deal.”
“So, you guys are cool now?”
“Yeah…” Bucky says, feeling no conviction behind his answer. Which he knows Steve can tell.
“Bucky,” Steve starts, his disappointment-laced tone striking fear into Bucky’s heart.
“Steve, I swear, it’s fine,” Bucky cuts in, looking back at him. His voice is more confident, even if it’s all fake.
Steve stares for a few more seconds.
“Really?” he asks.
Bucky nods.
“So you guys have talked? Sam knows that you’re…”
“Not gay?” Bucky laughs, earning himself a glare from Steve.
“Bucky… if you guys aren’t cool, not only is it gonna suck for you but… You guys are my best friends, I couldn’t handle it if there was bad blood between you two.” Steve puts on his sad puppy eyes and Bucky feels kind of bad for being so flippant about his feelings.
I’m still gonna lie to him though.
“It’s alright, Steve,” Bucky smiles, “it’s all good, we’re cool.”
Steve searches Bucky’s face for a moment before sighing and nodding.
“Okay, if you say so.”
There’s a lull in the conversation as they sip their coffees.
Great, Bucky thinks, now I gotta hide this shitshow from Steve.
“But, uh,” Bucky pipes up, “Sam and I sort of decided to keep the whole thing pretty quiet, so don’t tell anyone okay?”
“Of course, dude,” Steve nods.
“And we didn’t really wanna… bring it up ever again so… just don’t mention it.” Bucky hastily takes another gulp from his cup.
“Yeah, sure,” Steve says easily, and Bucky lets himself relax a bit.
Until he realises he needs to get Sam to keep it secret as well and he almost groans and drops his head onto the table, practically feeling things spiralling out of control already.
This resolution is becoming more trouble than it’s goddamn worth.
-
Bucky walks into the office the next morning, scanning intently for Sam everywhere he goes.
Bucky’s figured it all out. He’s a pretty private person, so he’s sure that Sam will understand if he wants to keep things quiet for now. If Sam’s still not convinced, Bucky can say that his last relationship ended badly. Which isn’t a lie, the last date he went on ended with an anxiety attack after he smelt the gasoline of her car. They didn’t really talk after that.
He eventually spots Sam near the water dispenser and makes a beeline for him.
“Hey, Sam,” he says once he comes up behind him.
“Hey, Bucky,” Sam smiles, “did you want some?” Sam reaches for another cup.
“No, thanks. I just, uh…” Bucky looks around, the break room isn’t that busy but Sharon and Nat are talking in the corner and Bucky’s pretty sure he can hear Stark coming down the hallway.
“Can we go somewhere a bit more private?” Bucky asks.
Sam’s brow scrunches but he nods.
“My office is free,” Sam says, waiting for Bucky to nod then leading him down the halls.
Sam glances back a few times, nervous in his usual, stoic, Sam-way of being nervous. When he closes the door after they both enter Bucky rushes to put him at ease.
“I had a great time on Saturday,” Bucky says, making sure he sees Sam’s face relax before he goes on. “I just wanted to ask if… maybe…”
Bucky’s coat is making him feel too hot, having forgotten to take it off in his haste to find Sam, he tugs at his shirt collar.
“Could we keep it to ourselves? Just for a bit?”
Bucky scratches his neck, watching Sam intently for any sign of thinking Bucky’s a weirdo.
“Steve, especially,” Bucky adds. In case, for Sam, ‘ourselves’ included Steve. Because it would include Steve for Bucky, that’s why he had already told Steve.
The confused look Sam’s had on his face since the conversation started suddenly breaks into understanding.
“Oh, sure,” Sam says, “does he not know that you’re…”
Traumatised? Yeah, he does? Bucky thinks.
“Gay, or bi, or… whatever,” Sam finishes.
Bucky’s heart drops in his chest, like he’s on that roller coaster at Coney Island again.
Right, dating Sam means he thinks I like guys. Which means I’d be gay or bi or whatever, Bucky remembers.
“Yeah,” Bucky chokes out, “he, uh, he doesn’t know.”
Sam bites his lip, nodding sagely. “We can keep it quiet, that doesn’t bother me at all,” he says. “But…” he reaches out to hold Bucky’s shoulder gently. “If you’re worried about what he’ll think, I’m like 99 percent sure it wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I know,” Bucky says quickly, grabbing Sam’s forearm but not moving it away.
Of course Steve wouldn’t mind, Bucky thinks, he’s not an asshole. But he probably wouldn’t expect it or… want it. Good thing I’m not.
Wait, Bucky catches himself, that sounds stupid and homophobic. Being gay wouldn’t be bad it would just be… complicated, so it’s… easier because I’m not gay.
The deliberation of whether or not Steve will be alright with Bucky being gay is making Bucky quite stressed.
“Anyway, I just realised we hadn’t really discussed how it’d be at work so,” Bucky rambles, letting go of Sam’s wrist as Sam’s hand drops from his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I can be professional,” Sam says, tugging at the sides of his blazer.
“Is that why you have pokemon all over your shirt?” Bucky points out, gesturing to the attempted inconspicuous design on Sam’s shirt. Eager to change the subject and also make fun of Sam.
“Hey! I’m having a meeting with a video game developer, there’s a method to my madness.”
“I’m sure they’ll be very impressed with your shirt,” Bucky laughs.
“Haven’t you got work to do other than insulting me?” Sam asks, crossing his arms sarcastically.
“Yeah, but I’m having so much fun,” Bucky smirks.
Sam gives his shoulder a final shove. “Get to work, dumbass.”
“See you, loser.” Bucky tamps down his smile as he strolls out of Sam’s office. He looks back and forth for Steve, breathing out when he sees he’s gotten away with meeting Sam without him knowing.
“Hey, Bucky,” Nat says from beside him, making Bucky jump.
“Natasha,” he says, his heart beating wildly.
“What were you doing, talking with Sam?” she asks, her face a suspicious state of nonchalance.
“Uh,” Bucky falters, “he was, uhm, telling me about some video game client developer thing.” Bucky almost winces at how horribly that sentence went.
“Right,” Nat squints for a split second before nodding down the hall, “well, Sharon’s asking for the stuff you have about the soda company.”
“Ah, yeah, she emailed me,” Bucky shakes his head to get back into work-mode. “I’ll get it from my office, where is she?”
“Meeting room two,” Nat says, then turns and walks away. Leaving Bucky to glance back at Sam just once then head off to his own office, nervously tucking a stray hair behind his ear.
Okay, calm down, he tells himself. That went well! Now, I can pretend to date Sam but also pretend to not be pretending to date Sam in front of Steve.
Bucky sighs with his hand on his office door but pushes through resolutely.
Best not to think about it, Bucky says before he can contemplate his stupid situation any more. One step at a time, Buck.
-
One step at a time, Buck, Bucky finds himself repeating as he trudges down the street.
He wished that he could attribute his anxiety to his triggers, but the snow that had fallen over the night was black from dirt and had been shovelled already and he was bundled in around 5 layers of clothes. The snow and the cold were not to blame today. No, Bucky’s nervous because this is his second date with Sam and he wasn’t even meant to go on the first one.
Is this really a date though? Bucky considers, it’s just walking a dog.
But his gut tells him that it’s a date. Especially considering they made the plan for it after their last date and Bucky is gonna be buying Sam a coffee.
Sam’s place isn’t too far, they both live close enough that they can get to work easily. After a short subway ride and a few blocks of walking, Bucky comes upon Sam’s front door.
“Okay…” Bucky mutters to himself, staring at the small chips in the wood.
He lifts his hand and gives two strong knocks, a short bark sounds from the inside.
Everyone has a voice they slip into when they talk to dogs, it can be high and cutesy, or it can be straightforward and to-the-point, or it can be inquisitive and questioning. Every one of these is a valid ‘dog voice’.
“Shh, Stella,” Bucky can hear Sam say from behind the door, his voice as soft as can be. Bucky can already tell that he’s gonna love Sam’s dog voice.
The door opens to Sam, tugging at his boots with a happy dog at his heels. He’s got a beige jumper on with a dark brown jacket over it, a black beanie covers his head.
“Hey,” Bucky says, watching Sam struggling to tie his shoes with mirth.
“Hey,” Sam says back, tilting his head up to smile at Bucky.
“Is this the great Stella I've heard about?” Bucky asks, reaching his hand forward to let Stella sniff it.
“That, she is,” Sam says, straightening up and checking his pockets.
Stella taps her feet enthusiastically as Bucky scratches around her head and behind her ears. She sniffs all around his hand and legs and feet, and looks back at Sam constantly.
“Right, I think I’m ready,” Sam says, turning off his hall light and double checking Stella’s lead. “You?”
“I was born ready,” Bucky smirks.
Sam shakes his head fondly and ushers Stella out the door. She catches on quickly and rushes away, tugging on the lead.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says to her, making Bucky chuckle.
“What?” Sam asks.
“Your dog voice,” Bucky says, “it’s… cute.” Bucky decides on the descriptor that’ll get Sam’s bashful smile back on his face.
It’s super effective.
“My ‘dog voice’?” Sam laughs.
“Yeah.”
“Whatever, Stella’s cuter,” Sam brushes it off, “isn’t that right, Stell?”
“I mean…” Bucky says, heightening the pitch of his voice to show his disbelief. Sam nudges his shoulder shyly but doesn’t say anything else.
Sam has to have been told that he’s cute before, Bucky finds himself thinking, if not then who the hell has he been dating?
As they walk, Sam points out different shops and things down the street, telling small stories about what he’s done there and who he’s met. A burger joint that has a veggie burger that’s actually good, a laundromat with approximately two machines worthy of using and the rest are garbage, a flower shop owned by an old lady who’s in love with Sam.
“I like the hibiscus the best, it reminds me of my TT’s garden,” Sam says fondly as they walk past the flower shop.
“Your TT?” Bucky asks.
“Yeah, my TT,” Sam says before turning to see Bucky’s confused face. “My aunt,” he clarifies, rolling his eyes.
“Ah, I see,” Bucky smiles, looking back at Stella, who’s sniffing around the trees on the sidewalk.
“No, don’t pee just yet, we’re almost at the park,” Sam says to her, pulling her along.
Just as Sam said, when they walk around the next turn, they find a small park. It’s not much, just a small playground and a patch of land. It seems like it’d be really nice in the summer.
But, unlike the sidewalk they’d been walking down, no one bothers to shovel the snow covering the grass at the park. And it doesn’t appear to be too popular at this time, because the pristine coat of snow is unmarred by the trampling of feet, making it the perfect canvas for Bucky’s mind to run rampant.
He knows he’s entering some kind of episode when there’s a chill that cuts through every layer of his clothes and he registers the smell of gasoline when there are no cars around.
“Here we are,” Sam says, oblivious to Bucky’s predicament.
It’s okay, Bucky tells himself helplessly, feeling his mind escaping him and his vision tunneling. It’s gonna be okay.
He can’t bring himself to speak so he trails behind Sam silently as they enter the park, letting Stella off her leash and sitting down on a bench. Bucky tries to take deep breaths but the air makes his throat turn cold and that doesn’t help in the slightest.
This is worse than usual, what the fuck?
“Bucky?” Sam says, making Bucky realise how loud his breathing has become and also remember that his breaths are visible in the cold.
“Yeah?” Bucky mutters, too dazed to move his gaze from the base of a street lamp.
“Are you okay?” Sam asks, putting a hand on Bucky’s bicep. The heat emanating from his palm grounds him and Bucky leans into the touch.
“Yeah, I just-,” Bucky falters.
Fuck, talking is exhausting, he thinks.
“I’m just having a…”
“Panic attack?”
“Yeah, kinda,” Bucky huffs out a half-hearted laugh, mostly to calm Sam and partly to calm himself.
“Do-, do you need help?” Sam asks, gently squeezing Bucky’s arm.
“I don’t know,” Bucky says, closing his eyes and focusing back on his breaths.
A lump is growing in Bucky’s throat and Bucky looks down in case any tears threaten to escape.
Shit, this is meant to be a date, Bucky thinks. Not only is he having an anxiety attack in front of Sam but it’s meant to be a date. Embarrassment springs even more tears and the lump gets so big it hurts.
“You know, there’s a bird that nests in that tree.” Bucky registers Sam’s voice, thinking hard to decipher what he just said.
Bucky can’t bring himself to speak but he blinks his eyes open carefully, focusing on his gloved hand in his lap instead of the snow.
“I call him Redwing,” Sam continues.
Bucky finds himself snorting.
“You named a random bird at the park?” He asks weakly.
“He’s not random,” Sam says, faking offence, “he’s my buddy.”
Sam’s hand moves to Bucky’s back and starts making slow circles around it, Bucky’s shoulders and back relax from the touch.
“The first time I came here I dropped the last bit of my sandwich, Redwing ate it right up.”
“Why’s he called Redwing?” Bucky asks, feeling his mind kick into the right gear again.
“It was kinda sunny and I thought the brown part of his wing was red, it just stuck.”
Bucky laughs and finally brings his head up, the first thing he sees is Stella sniffing around one of the trees.
“Which tree?” Bucky asks.
Sam points to the one next to where Stella is, Bucky can see a nest in the bare branches. Branches that are stark against the overcast sky, like black lightning. They send another strike of fear into Bucky’s chest but Sam’s movements at his back never fail. Bucky can calm himself down relatively quickly.
“I see the nest, I think,” Bucky murmurs.
“Yeah,” Sam says, his hand starting to slow on Bucky’s back. “You good?”
Bucky nods, biting his lip and heaving a sigh. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“It’s no problem, man,” Sam says, giving Bucky’s back a small pat before moving his hand away. “I…” Sam falters, “I get ‘em too sometimes.”
Bucky freezes, taking in Sam’s words.
It’s not like Bucky thought he was the only person to ever have attacks like that. He didn’t even assume he was the only person he knew that had the same issue. And the concept of Sam having panic attacks wasn’t completely outrageous. It just made Bucky feel bad.
Sam doesn’t deserve that, Bucky thinks, not that anyone does.
He finally nods slightly and turns to see Sam, deep brown eyes gaze back tentatively.
“Cool,” Bucky says, then he cringes, “I mean it’s not cool, it’s like the opposite of cool, but…” he stammers.
Sam snorts and shakes his head at Bucky’s jumbled words.
“Yeah, thanks Bucky.” Sam gives Bucky a careful look, “do you wanna cut this short? I know it can be… tiring.”
Sam would be the best boyfriend, Bucky finds himself thinking, not for me, specifically, just in general. Quick-thinking, understanding, attentive, smart, cute… If there ever was a time where Bucky felt he couldn’t be vulnerable in front of Sam, that all just changed. Bucky can understand being gay if it meant getting guys like Sam.
“Nah, I think I’m alright now,” Bucky answers, making sure his breaths stay even. “Besides, I still have to get you that coffee.”
Sam smiles wide at that, “hell yeah,” he says. He stands up and calls Stella over. “I know just the place. We can extend Stella’s walk a little bit, if it’s for coffee.” Sam says and fixes Stella’s leash back on her collar.
“I’m sure she doesn’t mind,” Bucky says, reaching out to give Stella some more love.
“Yeah, if she did, she’d be much louder,” Sam grumbles. “Shall we?” he asks, looking at Bucky.
“We shall,” Bucky answers happily. Standing up and enjoying kicking the snow around in spite as Sam leads him out of the park and towards whatever coffee shop they’re headed to.
They get an outdoor seat in order for Stella to sit with them and it’s freezing outside with or without the outdoor heating. Bucky is proud of himself for agreeing to it, even though it’s just because he had to say yes when Sam asked.
Sam talks about a documentary he saw about birds for a majority of their time at the coffee shop. Bucky doesn’t understand much, partly because he doesn’t know shit about birds but also because Sam talks really fast and animated when he’s excited. Every wave of his arms and stretch of his grin has Bucky smiling more at how Sam is reacting than at what he’s saying.
“Are you listening?” Sam asks, throwing a packet of sugar at him.
Shit, Bucky thinks.
“Yeah,” Bucky says incredulously, picking up the sugar packet and fiddling with it.
“Is my explanation of the sexual dimorphism of falcons boring you?” Sam laughs, taking what’s probably only his third sip of his coffee this entire time.
“You could never bore me, Sam,” Bucky says, making Sam avert his eyes. Bucky watches him over his cup.
It’s kinda fun to make him blush, Bucky realises. Taking in the process of Sam pulling himself back together over a simple sentence.
“Well, you’re nice to talk to,” Sam says shyly.
“Really?” Bucky asks impulsively.
“Yeah?” Sam says, chuckling a bit as Bucky gapes and smiles into his coffee.
See, Bucky tells himself, Sam is so nice, he’d be a great boyfriend.
“Can I get you two anything else?” A server asks after checking the heating.
Bucky’s about to say yes, because he has to, but Sam cuts in, checking his watch.
“No, we should actually get going kinda soon.”
“Does Stella need to get home?” Bucky asks, directing his words towards the dog sitting happily at their feet.
“Yeah,” Sam says, something in his tone making Bucky look up at him. Sam’s staring at him with soft eyes.
“What?” Bucky asks, his heart beating a bit faster at the intensity of Sam’s gaze.
“Dog voice,” Sam says simply.
They finish their coffees and set back to Sam’s house. There’s much less talking and a lot more strolling and looking around the quiet streets. Bucky often finds Sam in his line of sight and they accidentally meet eyes, causing Bucky to awkwardly laugh or cough and turn away.
Eventually, they find themselves back outside Sam’s door.
“I’ve got a key for Isaiah’s so I’m gonna drop Stella back there,” Sam says but doesn’t move just yet.
“Cool,” Bucky says and leans down to give Stella one last scratch.
“I guess I’ll… see you at work?” Bucky says once he stands up.
“See you at work,” Sam nods.
Bucky’s gaze accidentally flicks down to Sam’s lips and he sucks in a breath.
“Bye, then,” he flashes a sudden smile and edges backwards.
“Bye.” Sam returns the smile then turns to head to Isaiah’s door.
Bucky turns around as well, heading at a slightly hurried pace off to the subway station.
Will I actually have to kiss him one of these days? Bucky thinks, feeling what could be nausea swirling around his stomach and getting a sudden heart palpitation.
I won’t worry about that right now, Bucky decides, who knows if this’ll even last that long anyway.
He sticks his hand in his pocket and finds the sugar packet Sam had thrown at him sitting in there. Bucky smiles to himself. Throughout the train ride home he holds on to the packet, twirling it around his fingers. The warmth settling into him stronger than any number of clothes could give him.
-
“Coffee, Mr. Barnes?” Peter asks Bucky as he joins the group meeting.
“Just Bucky is fine, and yeah, thanks, Peter.” Bucky says like he always does.
Since being forced to say yes to everything, he’s become quite acquainted with Peter, the intern. He can be a bit excitable but he brings good coffee and has some insight every now and then.
Right now, though, Bucky can’t waste too much time talking to Peter because Fury has just walked in and the idle chatter in the office has died down.
“Hello, everyone,” Fury starts, leaning against the desk at the front of the room. “As some of you may know, we have a few new faces in our social media team.” Fury gestures to a group of people on the other side of the room from Bucky, they wave at the rest of the office.
Bucky’s seen them around, they started on Monday and while Bucky may not have had any meetings with them personally, he’s heard a few things from Nat and Sharon. Joaquin, Shang-Chi, Wanda, and a guy that Bucky’s heard people calling ‘V’. Apparently they’ve done some pretty solid stuff.
“Since not everyone is acquainted with them yet, I think we should organise some kind of… get-together, probably this Saturday,” Fury says, “any ideas?”
Much like work-related brainstorming sessions, Fury turns to them to come up with things.
“Maybe a potluck?” Natasha offers.
“Great,” Fury says, always happy to have a plan as quick as possible. “But we can’t have it at the office, not during the weekend, anyone up for hosting?”
“Your living room’s pretty roomy, Buck,” Steve says just loud enough for Fury to hear.
Bucky tries his best to keep his face impassive as he turns himself to see Steve, who’s looking back with a shit-eating grin.
“You up for it, Barnes?” Fury asks, making Bucky whip his head back.
Steve, you bastard, he thinks.
“Sure,” Bucky says, hoping the look he puts on doesn’t give off the impression that he wants to strangle his best friend.
“Perfect, Maria’s setting up all the specifics so you can talk with her to get a plan together and she can send it to the rest of us. Sounds good?” He addresses the room and gets a scattered murmur of ‘yes’s.
“Great, back to work, everyone,” Fury nods and is out of the room just like he came in.
Bucky hears Steve stack his papers together and Bucky spins to catch his arm before he gets away.
“You asshole,” Bucky hisses.
“Sorry, Buck, it just slipped out,” Steve says, badly covering up his smirk.
“Bullshit.”
“C’mon, it won’t be that bad.” Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder, then his eyes catch on something behind Bucky.
“Regretting your decision already?” Sam says from behind him, making Bucky turn around again.
Bucky huffs a laugh in agreement, clenching his hand.
Oh fuck, Steve is gonna be able to tell we’re still ‘dating’, Bucky thinks immediately.
“Regretting being friends with Steve, more like,” Bucky says, side-eyeing Steve.
“You could’ve said no, I’m sure Fury would’ve just found someone else,” Sam says.
Bucky can feel Steve glancing at him and Bucky tries to ignore it, shrugging at Sam instead.
“Nah, I need to, you know, get myself out there more,” he says, hoping he sounds at least slightly believable.
Sam smiles and the knot in Bucky’s stomach unfurls a tad.
“That’s for damn sure,” Sam jokes, punching Bucky’s shoulder lightly. Then he nods to the both of them and heads out of the room.
“I thought you told him,” Steve said, walking in front of Bucky.
“I…” Bucky licks his lips, “I said we had talked and that we’re not dating, he doesn’t know about the resolution.”
Steve stares at Bucky for a second longer than Bucky finds comfortable.
“Look, I didn’t want to tell him ‘cause he’d probably be even worse than you are at trying to get me to break it.” Bucky plasters a smile on his face, “he’s always looking for a way to cause my downfall.”
Steve laughs at that but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Alright,” he says.
Thank god, Bucky thinks.
“Come on, we gotta get ready for the golf people again.” Steve picks up the papers and smacks Bucky over the head with them. Bucky bats his arm around to chase Steve off.
“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Bucky says, laughing, but the sour feeling in him won’t go away.
He’s always hated lying to Steve, and it never goes well. He can’t drown out the feeling that things are gonna go very wrong, very fast.
Shut up, Bucky tells himself, I need to stop worrying, it’ll turn out fine.
Maybe.
-
It’s Saturday, the day of the office party, and Bucky is two seconds away from ripping all the lever modifications off of his door knobs, or calling his therapist.
I shouldn’t even be worrying about this, he thinks, people already know I don’t have a fucking arm.
But there’s something different about people coming into his house and home and actually seeing stuff like that. Bucky got lucky, at work there weren’t too many modifications that needed to be made, but things were a bit different at home.
Most of the modifications are in the kitchen and bathroom, Bucky tells himself, people aren’t gonna be checking out my kitchen or bathroom.
But the anxiety surrounding having most of the office in his house doesn’t go away.
Stupid fucking resolution.
A knock at the door has Bucky’s eyes flying wildly over to the clock, showing that there’s still half an hour before anyone is meant to arrive.
God, what if some of the new people are the kind of people who are super early to everything, Bucky thinks, smoothing down his hair just in case he had subconsciously ran a hand through it.
He peeks through the spyhole to see who he has to deal with first. It’s Steve.
Bucky huffs and pulls open the door harshly.
“You scared the shit outta me, asshole,” he says before Steve’s grinning and pulling him into a hug.
“I thought you might be freaking out.” Steve gives him a pat on the shoulder.
“Nah, I’m doing fine,” Bucky says, bringing a jittery hand to brush his hair away from his face.
“I’ll help you move the chairs,” Steve says, stepping into the foyer.
“Was I meant to move the chairs?” Bucky asks.
“I just think it’d open up the room a bit more, and you need something to do before you tear your mullet off.”
“It’s literally not a mullet,” Bucky says instinctively, but follows Steve out to the living room anyway.
The next person doesn’t arrive until twenty minutes later. Steve and Bucky have made a bit more space in Bucky’s living room, the furniture now lining the walls. Bucky also brought out the vacuum cleaner because a nice gathering of dust had been kicked up from their redecorating. Now, they were sitting on Bucky’s couch and Steve was trying to distract Bucky from micromanaging his living room even more.
Bucky’s head snaps up at the knock at the door, he stands and goes over quickly. Looking to see who it is, his breath is let out with both relief and nerves when his eyes find Sam standing outside.
“Hey,” Bucky says once he opens the door. Sam fixes him with a soft smile as Bucky braces his hand on the door frame for support.
“You look a bit stressed.” Sam tries to hide his growing amusement.
“Really? This is the most relaxed I’ve been in ages,” Bucky grimaces, making Sam laugh and take a step closer.
Bucky doesn’t register Sam’s movement quick enough to step away and Sam comes right up to him, fiddling with the collar of the dark button up Bucky has on. His fingers brush against Bucky’s neck and Bucky can just barely feel his breaths on his face.
Steve is probably right fucking behind me, Bucky thinks, his heart pumping, but he doesn’t take a step back.
For some reason.
“Hey,” Sam says and Bucky blinks his way back to reality.
“You can tell me if this is, uh, weird and stuff,” Sam continues. He gestures to where Bucky’s pulled his sleeve into his shirt, after having been convinced by Steve to take his prosthetic off because ‘this is a private occasion, Buck, and you’ll only get more stressed if the straps start bothering you’.
“I learnt a couple things about how to pin a sleeve, if you want me to help.” Sam wrings his hands together nervously.
“Sure,” Bucky says, not thinking about it. Sam nods and reaches to take the sleeve out and start folding it neatly.
“Obviously I haven’t tried this before so, it might not even work but-,” Sam rambles.
“It’s okay,” Bucky says, smiling at Sam’s nervousness.
He smells nice, Bucky notices. It’s the same cologne he wears at work, but it’s slightly different when Sam’s this close to him. Sam has a light blue dress shirt under a darker sweater, a small pin reading ‘Veterans Association’ sits on the collar.
“Where’d you get that?” Bucky mutters, nodding towards it.
“Oh,” Sam’s eyes flick down briefly, “I volunteer at the VA on Fridays, a friend gave it to me.”
“Is that where you learnt how to do this?” Bucky asks.
Sam looks to Bucky, and if Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d say he was blushing.
“Maybe.”
Sam steps back once he’s done, admiring the finished work.
“Looks good,” he says, then his eyes catch on something, or someone, behind Bucky.
“Hey, Sam,” Steve says cheerfully.
“Hey, Steve,” Sam says, walking inside finally after Bucky steps aside. “How long have you been here?” Sam asks, pulling Steve in for a hug.
“Not too long, just stopping Bucky from going completely insane.”
“Can you guys stop?” Bucky says, walking past the two of them as they laugh together. “You can get your shit outta my fridge and put it on the table yourselves,” Bucky says.
Sam nods and heads to Bucky’s kitchen, leaving Steve to eye Bucky for a moment, specifically his sleeve.
“What?” Bucky asks, shifting his weight.
“Nothing,” Steve says, following Sam to the kitchen.
Bucky raises an eyebrow but there’s another knock at the door and this time Bucky can hear the voices outside, Fury, Maria, and Nat.
Okay, Bucky thinks, let’s get this party started.
-
In Bucky’s opinion, many of the newcomers are alright. Wanda and Vis are married, which he hadn’t known before, but they seem happy together and Nat has complimented their work no less than three times so they’re probably the most capable people she’s ever met. Shang-Chi is super cool, Bucky thinks they could be really good friends. Also, Steve’s taken a liking to him as well which will probably lead to Bucky hanging out with him more because Steve actually organises and invites people to places, unlike Bucky.
Joaquin… Well, Joaquin is energetic, has a lot of potential, some bright ideas, and… has taken a rather strong liking to Sam.
Bucky’s been keeping an eye on them for a while and Joaquin laughs… a lot. He also stands directly next to Sam and always strikes up another conversation immediately after the last. Sam doesn't seem to be bothered by it at all, but Bucky finds himself getting more bothered by the minute.
It’s probably nothing, Bucky tells himself, glancing into his cup as he swirls the juice inside it round and round.
And yet, he still finds his eyes drifting over to Sam and Joaquin even when he’s brought into a chat with Steve and Sharon.
Joaquin laughs, again, and shoves his hand against Sam’s shoulder. Bucky feels a tightness in his chest that he can’t control nor does he understand.
Sam turns mid-laugh to look at Bucky, Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up at being caught. Sam gives a confused smile and beckons him over.
Bucky glances at Steve and Sharon who are deep in a conversation that Bucky wasn’t listening to for even a second, and heads towards Sam.
“Hey, Buck,” Sam says once Bucky joins them.
“Hey,” Bucky says but his words are a bit distant.
“Joaquin, this is Bucky. Bucky Barnes,” Sam says.
“Hi,” Joaquin says, “I’m Joaquin Torres, from the social media team.” Joaquin holds his hand out.
Bucky stares at it for a few moments before he looks around for a place to put his cup.
“Shit, sorry,” Joaquin says, then gapes, “ah, sorry for swearing.”
“It’s fine, kid,” Bucky says. Sam motions his hand to take Bucky’s cup and Bucky shoots him a thankful nod.
They shake hands firmly, then Sam tilts his head to Joaquin as he gives Bucky’s drink back.
“I worked with Joaquin before,” Sam says, “when Fury started talking about the social media team I thought he’d be perfect.”
“And I’m so thankful he let me know,” Joaquin says, seemingly paying no mind to Bucky’s blank stare. “I don’t know how long I could’ve taken formatting the same boring infographics at my last job.”
Bucky forces a small smile, glancing over at Sam who’s, instead, smiling at Joaquin. The ache in his chest deepens.
Sam sees Bucky’s face and his grin falters for a split second, but he quickly recovers and turns to Joaquin.
“So, what are your thoughts about this place? How are you liking everyone?” Sam asks.
Bucky sees the hesitant side-eye that Joaquin tries to hide.
“Everyone’s been very welcoming,” Joaquin says, “I’ve talked a lot with Maria and Natasha, and I got to know Shang-Chi a lot during the week.”
“Have you got the chance to talk to Steve yet?” Bucky speaks up, surprising himself.
“Nah, not yet,” Joaquin says, looking a bit thankful now that Bucky’s joined in on the conversation.
“I think you two’ll get along,” Bucky nods, finding a smile creeping onto his face as he imagines them having a conversation together.
“Oh yeah, Steve’ll love you,” Sam chuckles, directing his gaze to Joaquin while Bucky looks over at him. A stupid part of him doesn’t like that they didn’t meet eyes.
Joaquin laughs and takes a sip of his drink. “I might be able to, but everyone says that these things only last until 2 and it’s, like, 1:50.”
“God, I hope so,” Bucky mumbles, Sam busts out a laugh and Bucky feels a bit more relaxed at the sound.
“You’re such a loser sometimes, Buck,” Sam says as he bumps his shoulder against Bucky’s.
Bucky mumbles a noise that even he doesn’t know the meaning of and takes another gulp of his drink.
“Welp,” Fury says, strolling up to the three of them. Joaquin straightens up considerably more than Bucky or Sam.
“I’ll probably be heading off now,” Fury says. He nods at Bucky. “Thanks for hosting, Barnes, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” Bucky smiles and nods back.
“We’re headed out too, Bucky,” Nat says, followed by Sharon and Maria. “We’re getting some drinks, Steve’ll probably join us, you guys are free to come, too.”
Bucky doesn’t speak.
Does that count as a question? Do I have to say yes? He thinks.
Sam nudges Joaquin. “That includes you, hotshot.”
“Really?” Joaquin asks, then shuts his mouth as if he didn’t mean to say that.
“Of course,” Sharon says, then turns to Bucky and Sam in question.
“I might, uh,” Sam glances at Bucky, “I might stay back with Bucky for a bit.”
Bucky feels his heart beating again and he forces himself to put a normal smile on his face and nod.
“Sure,” Nat says, her tone suggesting nothing but she minisculely raises an eyebrow at Bucky. Which he ignores.
Everyone starts trickling out at that point. Nat and the others thank Bucky for hosting and prepare to leave, eventually Steve comes around too.
“I’ve put my leftovers in your fridge, Buck, hope you don’t mind.”
“Well, you kept them in there before, so I guess that’s their home now.”
Steve grabs his stuff then looks over at Sam and Bucky, they’re the only three left in Bucky’s house.
“You guys coming out with us or?” Steve’s eyes bounce between them.
Bucky has had a long ass day and the wave of stress washing over him at Steve scrutinising him and Sam next to each other is just the icing on the cake.
“Nah, we’re good, I needed to talk with Buck about something, that’s all.” Sam waves Steve off.
Steve stares for a few seconds.
Jesus, Steve, Bucky huffs to himself and clears his throat.
“Right,” Steve snaps out of it, “I’ll see you guys later then.” He nods and walks away. “You did great, Buck!” He shouts just as he’s heading out.
The door shuts and the silence hangs in the air for a few seconds. Then Bucky leans so his back thuds against the wall and he lets out a tired groan.
“That went well,” Sam says genuinely.
Bucky heaves a big sigh but his head nods.
“It did, didn’t it?” he says, cracking a smile and looking at Sam, who looks right back with a matching one.
“C’mon, I’ll help you clean up.”
They used cleanable plates and cups, and thankfully their coworkers are generally tidy, so after stacking the dishwasher and maybe picking up a few wrappers, they’re already done. Bucky is just wiping down the island counter when Sam sits down on the other side of it.
“So,” Sam says, “I know that you’re usually this…” Sam waves his arms about a bit. “Mysterious guy.”
Bucky fixes Sam with a glare, which only makes Sam give a cheeky smirk.
“But I feel like I know when something’s up,” Sam leans his elbows on the counter. “What’s wrong with Joaquin?”
“Nothing,” Bucky says, just a second too fast.
“Bucky,” Sam says disapprovingly, “talk to me.”
Bucky grumbles to himself and throws the towel onto the bench behind him. He looks at Sam for only a second and knows he’s not gonna get away with lying to him.
“He’s just… a lot,” Bucky decides to say.
“He’s young,” Sam shrugs, “he’s got all that energy.”
“I didn’t know you knew him,” Bucky says, tilting his head.
“Yeah, I was doing some management work and he was interning.”
“He’s very… comfortable around you.”
Sam raises an eyebrow at that.
“What?” Bucky asks.
“Nothing,” Sam says, “I guess you could say he is comfortable around me, yeah.”
“Why are you talking like that?” Bucky narrows his eyes.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
A few beats pass, Bucky taking time to decide whether or not to come clean.
“I mean, if I didn’t know any better…” Bucky looks off at the random magnets on his fridge. “I’d say he may have been… looking for something else,” Bucky says, voicing the thoughts that had made his inside twist all night long.
“Something else?” Sam furrows his brows.
“Sam, the kid was all over you,” Bucky huffs, trying to soften it with a chuckle at the end as he looks back to gauge Sam’s reaction.
Sam’s reaction is to burst out laughing.
“What?” Bucky asks.
“If I didn’t know any better, Barnes,” Sam chokes out.
He only calls me that when he’s being a dick, Bucky thinks.
“I’d say you were… jealous?” Sam quiets down and raises his eyebrows.
Bucky scoffs.
“I’m not jealous,” he runs a hand through his hair and stares at the counter instead of Sam’s face.
I’m not, he thinks, I don’t even like Sam like that, so how could I be jealous… but I can’t tell Sam that so…
“Okay…” he blurts, “maybe… I am a bit jealous.”
“He’s a kid, Buck, I could be his damn father.”
Bucky thinks hard, trying to remember Joaquin’s age.
“No, you couldn’t.”
“Yeah, I could.”
“No, you couldn’t,” Bucky says again.
“Yeah, I could. But that’s not the point,” Sam tilts his head to get Bucky’s eyes on him again.
“You don’t have to worry about Joaquin, dumbass,” Sam says, his soft tone betraying his words.
“I know,” Bucky murmurs, his eyes flicking between Sam and the kitchen counter. “Do you want…” Bucky turns to look around his kitchen, “tea? Or something?”
“Tea’d be great,” Sam smiles and Bucky feels like he’s being torn open with Sam’s warm gaze so he quickly sets to turning on the kettle and getting out cups.
He makes the tea calmly and in silence with Sam watching him. When Bucky hands him his cup, Sam has a pensive look on his face that Bucky raises his eyebrows at, encouraging Sam to speak.
“You can tell me to fuck off,” Sam says, “but… I was thinking about our last date… at the park…”
So it was a date, Bucky thinks.
“And I was kinda getting worried if I’d done something to trigger you?” Sam winces, “so if you have anything that you want me to know about so I can, you know, avoid talking about it, I’d be perfectly happy to hear it.”
Bucky hadn’t met Sam before the accident, many of the people at work had been around to hear all about it and they catch on pretty quick if Bucky tells them something’s messing with his head.
“Uh,” Bucky tilts his head a bit, “yeah, sure…” he clears his throat. “So… the cold, snow, cars, gasoline… they usually freak me out… ” Bucky trails off.
Sam nods calmly, “alright, sure.”
After a few more beats of silence, the only sound being the two of them sipping tea, Bucky sighs.
“If you want to know, I can tell you what happened.”
“You don’t have to,” Sam says assertively.
Bucky bites his lip, thinking carefully. “I trust you,” he says and doesn’t watch for Sam’s reaction, instead he takes a shaky breath.
It’s been ages, Bucky thinks, I can do this.
Maybe it’s because today was such a success, maybe it’s because he’s tired. Maybe it’s just because it’s Sam. Because he does trust Sam. The words trapped in his head easily flow out as Bucky meets his eyes.
“Around two years ago I got in a car crash, it was because of some drunk driver who we never found. It was late, and it was the middle of winter, and I was heading back from my sister’s place outside the city. I got run off the road and into some kinda… forest or something.”
Bucky takes a steadying breath as a flash of it returns to the forefront of his mind; the biting cold, the drip, drip, drip, of the fuel coming out of the tank, the scent of it attacking his lungs, the pain shooting through him every time he moved, the same view of the snow surrounding him and the barren trees above him.
“I was stuck there for a day or so,” Bucky hears Sam take in a breath, “my arm was trapped the whole time, it pretty much died there. Eventually, I was found, got rushed to the hospital and…”
Bucky plasters on a pained smile. “Started the ‘road to recovery’,” the quotation marks evident in his tone.
Sam stays quiet for a bit, seeming to take things in.
“Well,” he starts, “I’d say you’re doing pretty well on this road to recovery.”
Bucky scoffs, looking down and tracing a stain on the counter.
“I barely do anything, my therapist…” Bucky stops himself from immediately telling Sam about the resolution.
Am I ever gonna get used to keeping things from Sam? Bucky thinks.
“She thinks I have to get out there more, I’m not exactly re-entering society very well.”
Sam shrugs, “you could be doing a lot worse.”
There’s a hint of sorrow to Sam’s tone that has Bucky furrowing his brow worriedly.
Sam notices and takes a gulp of tea. “I, uh…” he stutters, then coughs awkwardly, “if we’re sharing and everything…”
Bucky nods to tell Sam to go ahead.
You can tell me anything, Bucky almost says, but keeps quiet as Sam opens his mouth.
“When I was younger, my best friend, Riley, died of a stroke.”
Bucky’s heart breaks. He sees Sam’s face turned down, his hands shaking ever so slightly, and Bucky gets an overwhelming urge to hold them but he keeps to his side of the kitchen island.
“It was really sudden and I was… unsure of what to do without him. I was reckless and I did basically anything to ignore what I was feeling, you don’t wanna know. None of it helped in the end, I had to take time for myself and accept how I was feeling.”
Sam looks up at Bucky. “I always thought you were someone who was really in tune with themselves, and I admire that about you. You really think things through.”
Am I in tune with myself? Bucky thinks, but doesn’t voice.
“Sometimes I think things through too much,” Bucky chuckles. Sam laughs as well, brightening the mood a little bit.
“Guess we’re different that way.”
“Opposites attract.” Bucky’s heart stutters as he registers what he said, watching Sam’s bashful smile break out again.
The shrill sound of a text tone going off bounces around the kitchen and Sam hurriedly pulls his phone out.
“Ah, it’s Sarah.” Sam turns to Bucky apologetically, “I should probably answer this.”
Bucky nods and pushes off of the counter.
“You should probably get home, your sister just had a baby and you’re hanging around with me?” He jokes.
Sam gets up, and is joined by Bucky in the foyer.
“You’re not too bad, actually.”
Bucky walks up to Sam, only noticing how close he’s stood to Sam when he sees Sam glancing down at his lips.
No, Bucky thinks, if I wanted to kiss him, it would be better than this, and if I have to, it should be better than this.
“Do you know that restaurant where they have the huge, extravagant, Christmas tree every year?” Bucky blurts out.
Sam raises an eyebrow, “Jacqueline’s?”
“Yeah,” Bucky swipes his tongue over his lips, “do you-, would you wanna go there? Maybe next week?”
Sam smiles again and Bucky suddenly understands the appeal of spoiling your boyfriend.
Even though I don’t think you could consider us boyfriends.
“You sure do know how to treat a guy,” Sam mutters.
“Of course,” Bucky says, not knowing what else to say.
“You can text me the plan later, I gotta get back to the absolute zoo that is my house these days.”
“Cool,” Bucky mumbles, opening the door for Sam and leaning against the frame.
“See you, Bucky.” Sam gives a small wave and Bucky shakes his head fondly.
“Bye, Sam,” he mumbles, watching Sam as he walks away.
Once Sam gets far enough away, Bucky shuts the door.
Something feels wrong and Bucky can’t tell what it is. The feeling isn’t all too unfamiliar but whatever is causing it is starting to grow stronger. Bucky shakes himself out of it.
It’s just like I said, Bucky thinks, I’m thinking too much.
He turns around and heads back to the living room before realising that he and Sam didn’t put any of the furniture back.
Furniture first, thinking later.
-
Just before 7pm on the next Saturday night, Bucky is standing under the heaters outside Jacqueline’s, keeping an eye out for Sam. He has a white dress shirt and black two piece suit that he had to get dry cleaned as quickly as possible because it’s been sitting in his closet for forever. He let his hair down again but brought along a hair tie, just in case. With how much he’s been messing with his hair, he might need it.
He feels ridiculously out of place, even though he spent the past hour or so scrutinising himself in order to fit in at this fancy-pants restaurant.
“Man, Barnes,” Sam’s voice comes from just beside Bucky, the man having somehow snuck up on him, “you’re looking good.”
Bucky spins to see Sam in a black suit that almost shines purple, a grey button up underneath. The suit hugs his shoulders and waist and thighs, Bucky spends a moment eyeing him.
Like a boyfriend would, Bucky thinks, ‘cause I’m pretending to be his sort-of-boyfriend.
“You’re not so bad, yourself,” Bucky looks back at Sam's face, catching him admiring Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky heats up under his gaze.
“Shall we?” Bucky says quickly after Sam meets his eyes and Bucky starts to get uncomfortable.
Sam raises an eyebrow, concerned, and follows Bucky to talk with the host about their reservation. As they’re led to their table, Sam leans over to Bucky’s ear.
“I wasn’t making a joke before,” he mutters, “you look beautiful.”
Bucky feels himself blushing, hard. If the smirk Sam has on means anything, it means he’s noticed.
Bucky’s never really been called beautiful before, it’s a bit of a shock. Especially from someone like Sam, who probably has hundreds of people fawning over him wherever he goes. Hell, Bucky can see him turning a couple of heads just on their walk through the restaurant.
Rightfully so, Bucky thinks, watching as Sam pulls Bucky’s chair out for him, making Bucky roll his eyes. Sam sits across from him, a candle in the middle of the table highlighting the angles of Sam’s face, a reflection of the flame dancing in his deep irises.
And he thinks I’m beautiful, Bucky thinks, trying to fight a smile breaking out. Then he shifts his eyes over to where a group of girls stop their chatter to gaze at the both of them and Bucky’s smile drops and he hides in his menu.
He should save this kinda talk for someone who’ll appreciate it, Bucky thinks, like them.
“I haven’t been here before,” Sam says, making Bucky look back up.
“Me neither,” Bucky chuckles nervously.
“Really? I was gonna ask you what I should get, damnit,” Sam jokes.
“Well,” Bucky shrugs, “we’ll just have to be adventurous.”
“Ah,” Sam smirks, leaning onto his elbows, “are you an adventurous guy, now?”
“I can be,” Bucky mutters back.
“There’s a difference between adventuring and being adventurous,” Sam tuts, “shall we try the puffer fish, then? If you’re so adventurous?”
Bucky smirks at Sam’s tease.
“Sure,” he calls over the waiter, “who knows? I might like it.”
They order some wine and pufferfish, along with a carbonara. Soon, the waiter brings over a bread basket.
“This is the highlight of places like this,” Sam laughs, pouring some olive oil and vinegar for himself.
Bucky smiles as he watches, then Sam offers it out to him.
“Sure,” Bucky says, mostly because of the resolution but also because Sam looks excited and Bucky wouldn’t want to ruin it.
“So, how has your life been? I feel like I’ve talked your ear off about Sarah and Cass and little AJ, what have you been up to?”
“No, I love hearing about them,” Bucky says, grabbing a piece of bread, “I’d love to meet them, someday.”
Sam hides a smile by chewing, allowing Bucky to continue.
“I’ve been doing alright, I’ve been going out a lot more than I used to.”
“Oh yeah,” Sam openly beams at Bucky, “Sharon was saying that you go out with her and Nat for lunch nowadays.”
Yeah, ‘cause she asks every other day, Bucky thinks then chastises himself, because lunch with them is fun. He has lunch with Steve and Sam almost every day, and while he loves it, there’s a different kind of energy when he eats with Nat and Sharon. Sometimes it’s exactly what he needs after being hounded by Steve and Sam at every moment.
“I do, yeah, it’s great,” Bucky answers, blushing under the look Sam’s giving him. “What?” he asks.
“Nothing, I’m glad you’re getting out there more.”
I guess I do need to thank Dr. Raynor, Bucky thinks. Bucky takes a bite of the bread and almost sighs in contentment.
“It’s good, right?” Sam laughs at him.
“I think it’s freshly made,” Bucky mutters and takes another bite.
“Yeah, Sarah told me this place had good bread, I think they sell bread here, too.”
“You told Sarah about the date?” Bucky asks, then rushes when Sam’s smile drops, “that wouldn’t be bad, I’m not worried about Sarah.”
“Oh no,” Sam breathes in relief, “uh, I told Sarah I had a date, I didn’t say it was you.” Sam dips his bread in the oil and vinegar for a second, “but she knew we’d gone bowling and she sort of assumed.”
Bucky nods, trying not to worry about who else Sam might’ve told because he doesn’t want Sam to know how scared he is of people finding out.
God, I’m such an asshole, Bucky thinks, like he always does when he’s reminded of what he’s doing. He knows it’s wrong but… he can’t bring himself to stop. There’s something about it.
“She says you have good taste, ‘cause she likes this place,” Sam speaks again, “and I was like ‘obviously he does, he’s with me’.”
This, Bucky says, biting his lip, this fucking feeling is why I do it. Sam’s cheeky grin and cocked head make Bucky feel something he didn’t get before. Pretending to date Sam has made everything feel so different but not in a bad way, the only bad feelings he gets are when he realises that he’s lying to Sam.
I have to stop thinking so much, Bucky decides, it’s great, we’re having fun, this is the best I’ve felt in ages, isn’t that what the resolution is for?
“You alright, Buck?” Sam has a hesitant look on his face as Bucky snaps back and realises he’s been gazing at Sam for a few seconds.
“Perfect,” Bucky says, watching for long enough to see Sam give his bashful smile again before his gaze is drawn to the waiter returning with their wine.
Sam talks about a book he’s reading while they wait for their food, leading into a discussion about books they think are overrated. Which gets heated enough that by the time their food comes, Bucky needs to consciously snap out of it.
“I don’t know what Shakespeare did to you, man, but you need to get over it.”
“Sam, you made me order this, can we please eat it?” Bucky shakes his head, holding back laughter.
“Fine,” Sam says, sitting up to look at the puffer fish dish, Fugu, that they bought, “but this conversation isn’t over.”
“I’ll be counting the minutes until we can discuss it again,” Bucky sasses, taking his cutlery and getting a piece on his fork.
“You get some too,” Bucky says, nodding to Sam.
Sam chuckles and picks his fork up to take a piece as well.
“Bon appetit,” Sam says.
They raise their forks in sync and eat, their faces contorting as they taste it.
“It’s…” Sam shrugs, “it’s alright.”
“I don’t hate it,” Bucky points his fork to Sam, “but it was pretty expensive.”
Sam hums, “that’s the price of getting it all the way over here, you know it’s from Japan?”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky says, even though he knows, and takes another piece.
“Yeah, would you wanna go to Japan? Some of my friends have gone before and they loved it. They went skiing though, I’m not sure I’d be too good at skiing.”
Bucky keeps up with Sam’s discussion through the rest of their meal, giving his two cents whenever Sam asks something or if there’s a bit of a lull. Eventually, their plates are empty and they’ve been picking at a slice of cheesecake between them until only the plastic base is left.
“I think they’re two seconds away from kicking us out,” Bucky mumbles, flipping his fork and looking around.
“Nah…” Sam says, but checks to see no other people around them, “they aren’t closed yet, are they?”
“No, but I think it’s been a while.”
“Has it?” Sam checks his watch, “shit, it has. I forgot what time I told Sarah but I may or may not be late.” He turns to call for the bill.
“Hey,” Bucky says once Sam looks back at him.
“What?”
“I asked you out this time, I’m paying.”
“I’ll have to buy you a lot of coffee to make up for this,” Sam laughs.
“Well,” Bucky shrugs, letting Sam shake his head in disbelief as Bucky digs out his wallet to pay.
They saunter out together, when they walk through the doors a nice cool breeze hits them, contrasting the warmth from the outdoor heaters hovering above.
“I guess…” Bucky mumbles, “you gotta get home?”
“Sarah would probably get over it if I stayed out a bit more but she can be… scary.” Sam winces, making Bucky laugh.
“I get it.” Bucky sticks his hand in his pocket and finds his hair tie there. Deciding to put his hair up so it doesn’t fly everywhere when he walks home, he pulls it onto his wrist and moves his hand up to gather his hair. He twists it into a long rope then twists more to get it into a bun and carefully slips the hair tie on, making sure the end of his hair is secure so he can twist it around once more.
“Damn,” Sam says, watching with wonder as Bucky pulls his hand away.
“That’s my hidden talent,” Bucky jokes. But Sam doesn’t laugh, instead he stares intently at Bucky’s face. He brings a hand up to tuck a piece of hair that fell out behind Bucky’s ear, leaving his palm at Bucky’s cheek afterwards.
This is it, Bucky thinks, his insides twisting. This is a stupid idea, I’m probably not even gonna like it, what the fuck am I doing.
He tilts his head into Sam’s hand. Stop thinking, he tells himself, letting himself edge forwards as Sam takes a step in and brings his lips to Bucky’s.
Sam’s lips are soft, and he tastes strongly like the wine they’ve been drinking. Bucky immediately closes his eyes, breathing Sam in before he remembers to kiss back. The small breath of pleasure that Sam makes when Bucky presses his lips further has Bucky’s heart beating.
Bucky feels Sam’s arm slipping around his waist and Bucky lets his hand grip Sam’s shoulder. His mouth hangs open as he takes a breath, and he feels Sam’s teeth gently nip his lip. Sam breaks off with a smile and a small chuckle, Bucky’s head almost crashes into Sam’s from leaning in and he has to pull himself out of the moment.
“I do have to get back,” Sam whispers, even though he presses another long kiss to Bucky’s lips.
“Then you should get back, angel,” Bucky whispers back, the term of endearment slipping through his lips. His palm drops to Sam’s waist and he feels the way their figures fit together for a second before Sam drops his head to Bucky’s shoulder then gently pushes away.
“You should come over tomorrow,” Sam smooths his thumb across Bucky’s jaw, sending a ripple down Bucky’s back. “Cass’s got soccer and Sarah’s taking AJ for some check ups so we can just chill.”
“I’m meeting with Steve and Nat for lunch but I can swing by after,” Bucky mumbles, accepting a final kiss that Sam gives him.
“See you then.” Sam steps back, leaving Bucky with a wink.
Bucky smiles after Sam, still feeling a high of adrenaline.
That was pretty fun, Bucky thinks, then clears his mind and starts his walk back home.
Not thinking is the best idea I've had in a while.
-
The lunch with Steve and Nat was going well, until it wasn’t.
“If you’d like, you could give me a call sometime?” The random lady at the sandwich shop says, sliding Bucky a paper with her phone number on it.
“Uh…” Bucky puts a tentative hand on the paper and pushes it slightly back towards the lady. “Sorry, I’m… I’m not really looking for that right now.”
Thankfully, the woman nods respectfully, if a bit embarrassed.
“It’s no problem, I hope you have a nice day!” She says, taking the paper back, and then she’s leaving just as quick as she appeared.
“Buck,” Steve says, delighted, “you said no.”
“What?” Bucky asks, then remembers.
Oh… the resolution.
“No, no,” Bucky says, backtracking, “I said no because it would’ve been bad if I said yes.”
“Why?” Nat asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, why?” Steve asks as well, crossing his arms.
Shit… Bucky thinks, looking between the two of them.
You know what? Bucky decides, screw Steve, if he thinks that this is a bad idea, that’s his problem. I’ve been having fun pretending to date Sam and it seems like he’s enjoying it too, and if Steve has a problem with that, he just doesn’t understand.
“It wouldn’t be fair to Sam,” Bucky says, staring resolutely at Steve, “because he still thinks we’re dating.”
A deadly silence falls upon the three of them.
“What!?” Steve shouts, thankfully the shop is practically empty.
“What do you mean Sam thinks you’re dating?” Nat asks.
“He asked me out after he got back from New Year’s,” Bucky explains, “I had to keep up the resolution so I said yes and I’ve been ‘dating’ him.” Bucky adds in the quotation marks.
“Bucky, that was like a month ago,” Steve says, “you’ve been lying to him this whole time?”
Bucky feels the familiar stab in his heart, he shrugs, his explanation flying out of his mind.
“It never came up…”
“Never came up? Of fucking course it didn’t, Bucky,” Steve hisses, “why did you even keep going out? The resolution didn’t say you had to keep making plans?”
“It’s just… fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah,” Bucky says, stronger now, “it’s fun and I like it and Sam seems to like it too and I’m not gonna just ruin that.”
The silence stretches on even more. Steve’s face shifts from accusatory to something gentle, like the face he makes after Bucky has a breakthrough in therapy.
Oh no, Bucky thinks, this can’t be good.
“Bucky,” Steve says, “do you like Sam?”
“Huh?” Bucky asks, he’s confused but a sinking feeling is setting in, already anticipating Steve’s answer.
“You know, do you like Sam?”
“No!?” Bucky says, slightly louder than intended, “Sam likes me, he told me. I’m just going along with it.”
“You said you liked dating him, Buck,” Steve raises his eyebrows, “this kind of dating is a romantic relationship. If you like being in a romantic relationship with Sam, it means you like him.”
“I didn’t say I like dating him,” Bucky says, “I like pretending to date him.”
“What does that even mean?” Natasha pipes up.
“I don’t know…” Bucky thinks for a moment. “He’s nice to hang out with, you know? He’s, like, thoughtful and I feel good on the ‘dates’.” Bucky uses quotations again. “The fact that it’s a date and I have to do date things isn’t that bad, they’re… fun to pretend to do?” Bucky winces at the looks on Steve and Natasha’s faces.
“Have you kissed?” Steve asks, sounding horrified. Which makes Bucky feel very much like shit.
Bucky doesn’t answer.
“Buck, do you like dating Sam?” Steve asks again.
“I like pretending to date Sam.”
“Are you fucking stupid?”
Bucky glares at Steve. “Look, I didn’t tell you because I fucking knew you were gonna be all weird about it, it’s not that deep. I like it and so I’m gonna keep doing it, and it’s not hurting anyone. You guys just can’t tell Sam.”
“You’re an asshole, Barnes,” Natasha says, her stony gaze cutting through Bucky.
“What?” Bucky asks, shocked.
“Just because you can’t get your head out of your ass doesn’t mean you get to hide behind your stupid resolution and lie to Sam about being emotionally available.” Nat puts her cup of coffee down harshly. “You’re trying to get the benefits of dating Sam while pretending to be straight as well? Bucky, Sam likes you. If what you say is true, you’re just taking advantage of that.”
That cuts deep.
“I’m not taking advantage of him,” Bucky says, but it’s weak and quiet.
“If-,” Nat starts again but cuts herself off, she stands up suddenly. “I need the bathroom,” she says and walks off, leaving Steve and Bucky sitting by each other.
“I swear I’m not taking advantage of him,” Bucky mutters, “I’m just… pretending.”
Steve glares back at Bucky, but he doesn’t speak. Letting Bucky sit in silence for a while, letting the shame rush through him tenfold.
Bitterly, Bucky takes out his wallet and pulls out 50 bucks.
“Here’s your stupid money for your stupid fucking resolution,” Bucky murmurs, a lump entering his throat, “tell Nat that I left,” he says, getting up to leave.
Then, his phone buzzes.
Sam: Bucky, you need to call me as soon as possible
The lump in Bucky’s throat grows and he feels his arm getting weak.
“What?” He asks, then looks to where Natasha’s walking back from the bathroom. “Nat, what the fuck did you do?”
“Call Sam, Barnes,” Natasha ignores Bucky’s question, grabbing her stuff and walking right past Bucky and out the door.
“Did she seriously just fucking tell Sam?” Bucky asks Steve, anger rushing through him.
“Maybe,” Steve says, his tone showing little issue.
“Steve, what the fuck am I meant to do?” Bucky’s voice breaks in the middle of his sentence.
Steve gives Bucky a sad look and shrugs, slowly packing up his things. Bucky bites his lip to keep from saying anything else and storms out the door.
He rushes to his apartment, rereading Sam’s text over and over. Paying no mind to the cold that flings his coat open as he practically runs down the street. He shoves his phone in his pocket messily in order to get his door open, kicking his shoes away. Tearing into his room, he sits on the edge of his bed and takes a short breath before staring at Sam’s contact in his phone.
I don’t wanna call him, Bucky thinks, groaning as he feels a clench in his stomach at having to face Sam. He imagines walking into the office after ghosting Sam like that, seeing Sam’s face filled with betrayal and anger.
That’ll happen regardless, Bucky tells himself, and I deserve it.
“Fucking hell,” Bucky mutters and quickly presses ‘call’. Praying that Sam won’t pick up.
He does.
“Bucky, what the hell does Natasha mean?” Sam says immediately, his voice clear through the speaker phone.
Bucky closes his eyes as shame wafts over him.
“Look, things just… got out of hand,” he murmurs.
He hears Sam huff on the other end of the phone, then a muffled sob breaks through, making Bucky drop his head into his palm.
“Jesus, Bucky, what the hell?” Sam hisses.
“I don’t know,” Bucky says, feeling numbness taking over.
“It’s been weeks, Bucky, what even…” Sam groans angrily, Bucky jumps in surprise, “I can’t believe I fucking thought… Fucking hell, Buck, how could you do that?”
“I don’t know…” Bucky repeats weakly, “I’m sorry,” he says, feeling pathetic.
“Sorry!?” Sam yells, then silence descends on the call.
Bucky aches to fill it with something, anything, that would fix what he’s done but nothing comes out because there’s nothing, I have no fucking excuse.
“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky croaks, clearing the phlegm from his throat and sniffing, it’s then that he feels tears forming.
He hears Sam take a shaky breath from the other side that catches twice, Bucky has to press his fingers against his eyes to get them to stop crying.
I did that to him, Bucky thinks, to Sam, Jesus christ.
“I think,” Sam says, “I need some time.”
“What do you mean?” Bucky says, tilting his head up and wiping his nose.
“Just…” Sam says, his voice cracking, “don’t contact me, okay?”
No.
“Sam-,”
“I’ll see you at work, Bucky.”
Sam hangs up.
It takes a full ten seconds for Bucky to talk himself down from throwing the phone at the wall, instead, he drops it by his side.
This is all my fucking fault, Bucky thinks, what the fuck was I thinking? Then he presses his face into his hand again. I wasn’t thinking, I was just having fun and I wasn’t thinking, god, how could I be so fucking selfish.
He vaguely registers having plans for the rest of the day, he searches through the haze in his mind to remember. Then a sob rips out of his throat and he falls back on the bed as he remembers he was meant to go see Sam at his house.
He can’t bring himself to get off the bed for the next few hours, and even then he only cooks a sad meal of cup noodles and eats half of it. He keeps remembering what he did and has to have a seat on the floor and cry his feelings out yet again.
He falls asleep with dread waking him up every other minute, terrified of work the next day.
-
Bucky’s outside is most definitely telling a story for the inside today. Greasy hair, sunken eyes, and dark circles. He’s being given weird stares during his train ride that he’s confused at for only a split second before he realises that he looks like he’s been in another goddamn car crash.
Too soon? Bucky thinks, but is too tired to laugh at his own joke. The train pulls into the station he gets off at for work and he drags his feet, aching for the doors to close on him and postpone his arrival at the office.
Sadly, he gets to work on time. So on time, in fact, that he bumps right into Sam.
“Shit, sorry,” Bucky mumbles.
“Barnes,” Sam says as a greeting, then walks away, keeping his back to Bucky.
I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do this, Bucky thinks, walking in a daze into his office.
A knock at the door startles him.
“Bucky, you have a meeting?” Sharon says, poking her head in. “You look like shit,” she adds, making Bucky roll his eyes.
“When’s the meeting?” he says, massaging his temple.
“Now? It’s been in your calendar for like two weeks,” Sharon huffs and taps the doorframe twice, “c’mon, let’s go.”
Bucky drops his head back and groans at the ceiling.
Today’s gonna be a long fucking day.
And it is, both for Bucky and for anyone who comes into contact with him. For the whole day Bucky has to ask people to repeat things or he doesn’t finish his sentences or he spaces out during meetings.
When Sam’s in a meeting, Bucky is both slightly better but also a hundred times worse. He’s stuck between trying to act normal around Sam to being paralysed any time he speaks.
“Bucky, we need to get that glove company to lower their demands, can you shoot them an email about it and we can get a meeting together to discuss their budget and plans,” Sharon says.
“Yeah, get the arm amputee to bargain with the glove company,” Bucky chuckles, making the people in the meeting give a short laugh as well.
Except Sam, who offers a thin smile with dead eyes. And that hurts.
Before, Sam would have the best reactions to Bucky’s jokes, even the dumb ones. He’d be so animated and exasperated but entertained. A rumble of a laugh or a sharp exhale would draw Bucky’s attention, he’d be giving Bucky a stern look then breaking into a grin that showed his teeth and shaking his head.
Will I ever be able to see Sam smile like that again?
Maybe one day. Sam is strong and way too good of a person, he may be able to be friends with Bucky again. But Bucky will never get anything like what he had before, when they were ‘dating’. Bucky will never get to see Sam with his soft eyes or giving his bashful smile or his flirtatious smirk.
“Bucky?” Sharon asks loudly, raising her eyebrow.
“Yeah?” Bucky says, sitting up in his chair.
“Can you write this down? To put in the email?” Sharon says, annoyance creeping in her tone.
“Yeah, sure, of course,” Bucky says, shaking his head out and getting his pencil to take some notes.
If he sees Sam staring at him, he ignores it.
-
Just past midnight on Thursday (so technically Friday), after three more grueling days at work, Bucky finally folds and rants to Steve.
Buck: I know it’s my fault and I was so fucking stupid and it’s because of that that I feel like I literally can’t do anything
Buck: But I don’t want to just stop talking to him and let us drift apart cause
Buck: well you know, sam’s amazing I don’t want to stop being friends
Steve’s bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again.
Steve: I’m sure it’ll be fine, you should give Sam some time to heal and get over it all. He’ll probably warm up again slowly, just keep being friendly and stuff but don’t try to push it
Bucky scrunches his nose up, his head shifts deep into his pillow and he huffs. He roughly grabs it and flips it around to the other side before returning to his phone.
Bucky: I just feel like we’ll never get back to what we were
Steve: Don’t say that, I’m sure you guys’ll work things out and it’ll get back to normal. When you first met you guys weren’t really keen on each other then you became best friends.
Bucky groans and drops his phone, staring off into the darkness of his room. His heart thumps as he sighs to himself. He can feel his mind trying to understand something and he itches to figure out what it is. He grabs his phone and quickly types out anything that comes into his mind.
Bucky: I don’t want things to get back to normal
He remembers how Sam smiled on their dates and the calm feeling that descended when they would sit across from each other, gazing into each others eyes,
Bucky: I liked it when I was ‘dating’ him, and I’ll never get that again
Bucky: You know?
Steve’s bubble appears and reappears more than five times, Bucky’s about to message Steve to just spit it out when it finally sends.
Steve: So, you’re upset because you don’t want to be friends, because you want to date him?
Bucky is about to type out a ‘no’ but his hand stalls.
I can’t pretend to date him, he thinks, which was what he was about to say he wants to do. I agree that’s a shitty thing to do, it was shitty before and it’s even more shitty now that I’ve made Sam feel horrible…
So, what do I want?
What Bucky wants is to go on one of those fishing trips that Sam keeps talking about. For Sam to take him to the best crabbing spot and teach him how to set the traps. Then to cook them and serve them up for dinner under the warm light of the sunset.
Or to go to a movie and share a bucket of popcorn that Sam insists he doesn’t want any of but ends up eating most of it. To pull that stupid trick and pretend to yawn to put his arm around Sam and then have him tease Bucky for it. Then, after the movie, listen to Sam’s opinions about the movie and play dumb so Sam explains it more.
Or to meet Sarah, and Sam’s nephews and see what Sam means when he says Sarah’s gonna like Bucky. Or to bring Sam to meet his parents and Steve’s family, after almost a year of talking about Sam constantly.
Or to have Sam over, tucked beside Bucky on his couch while they watch Lord of the Rings because Sam hasn’t seen it and Bucky can imagine how tough Sam would say he was but he would grip Bucky’s hand whenever the Orcs were on screen.
And fuck, Bucky wants to kiss Sam again.
Bucky: Shit
Bucky grips his phone hard as he lightly smacks it into his face.
I’m so fucking stupid, I like Sam, like like Sam and I want to date him and hold him and kiss him and I’ve fucked everything up oh my god.
As much as Bucky hates himself right now, there’s a considerable loosening in his chest. Like there’s a weight that’s been lifted off that’s just been getting heavier and heavier throughout the past month.
Steve: Have you figured it out?
Arrogant dick, Bucky thinks, stabbing at the keyboard.
Bucky: Yes
He angrily jabs out what he’s been denying this entire time.
Bucky: I want to date Sam
Bucky waits with bated breath but Steve’s response comes much quicker than any of the others.
Steve: I’m proud of you
Jesus, Bucky thinks, feeling how quickly his eyes fill with tears at the simple words. He has to take a second to calm down with sobs threatening to break out every time he breathes. It feels like crying is all he’s been doing for the past few days.
Bucky: Thank you
Bucky looks around his dark room and laughs, tears starting to fall down his cheeks.
Bucky: It’s like 2am, I have to go to work tomorrow, and I’ve just realised that I’m gay or something
Bucky: I don’t even know what I am I just know that I like Sam
Bucky: lmao
Steve: You don’t really need to know what you are, labels aren’t important
Steve: And don’t say ‘lmao’, this is not the time for ‘lmao’, Buck
Bucky laughs again, wiping at his face.
Bucky: Thanks Stevie
Steve: No problem
Steve: <3
Bucky smiles at his phone screen, feeling just a bit more grateful that Steven Grant Rogers is his best friend.
Bucky: What the hell do I do now?
Steve is silent for a moment before he responds.
Steve: I don’t want to rush you but I think you should tell him
Steve: ASAP
Bucky huffs but he knows that Steve’s right. Not only should Bucky have realised his feelings a month ago (or maybe even before then, Bucky doesn’t know how long he’s felt like this for Sam), but Sam doesn’t deserve to be given the time to get over Bucky and then be told Bucky actually does want him and be asked to come back.
Bucky: I’m gonna try talk to him after work tomorrow
Steve: Then you better get to sleep.
Steve: I know I’m going.
Bucky laughs but it doesn’t last. With the past few minutes he’s had, Bucky can feel the exhaustion finally creeping up on him
Bucky: Alright, gn steve, love you
Steve: Gn Buck, love you too, and good luck
Bucky turns his phone off and flips over to plug it in, shoving it into the standing holder. He wills himself to sleep but it takes him formulating his plan in his head for him to finally drift off. Ready for the next day.
-
If Sam notices Bucky eyeing him more than usual today, he mentions nothing. Treating Bucky a lot like some of the new recruits, as if he doesn’t really know him.
Hopefully that’ll change, Bucky thinks, going over his plan in his head again.
He’d rushed to the flower shop by Sam’s home this morning and got a bouquet of hibiscus flowers, turning up early to work in time to hide them under Bucky’s desk in his office. He’s been paranoid throughout the day that someone will see them or he’ll get held back or something and everything will go wrong.
No, Bucky tells himself, stop thinking like that, everything will turn out fine.
Bucky’s in his last meeting of the day. Sadly, it goes right up to when he gets to clock out. He has to rush his goodbyes, earning him a confused look from the other members of the meeting. Then he practically bursts out of the room and goes to Sam’s office.
He isn't there.
Shit, Bucky thinks, I knew something would go wrong.
“Hey,” he quickly cuts in on Fury’s conversation with Maria, he has to quickly brush off the unimpressed glare he’s given to ask his question. “Do you know where Sam is?”
“Yeah, he asked if he could leave early since his meetings were all done,” Maria answers, “said he was volunteering somewhere.”
Of course, Bucky thinks, almost smacking himself in the face, the VA.
“Ah, right, thanks,” Bucky says, then nods a goodbye, “I’ll see you next week.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before he’s legging it back to his office to gather his things and pick up the flowers, hiding them in brown paper as he leaves the building.
He needs to google where the VA is but eventually he grabs a taxi that can take him, waiting anxiously and watching out the window while he’s driven there. He feels sick and has to focus on his breaths to stop him from getting a headache.
Just tell him, he repeats in his mind, all I have to do is tell him.
His mind aches to jump to what will happen after Bucky confesses but he shakes himself out of it each time he tries to think about it.
How Sam reacts is up to him, all I need to do is tell him the truth… for once.
Sooner than Bucky realises, he’s arriving at the VA.
He pays the taxi driver in a haze and walks anxiously into the intimidating building. The inside is warm, well-heated, and quiet, a stark contrast to the intense beating of Bucky’s heart.
Bucky looks around, peeking through the doors that line the long hall he’s entered, seeing empty rooms. He shuffles his things around to reach and tug at his prosthetic straps, getting more and more stressed each second he can’t see Sam.
“Oh, hello,” someone says beside Bucky, making him jump. It’s a lady who seems about 70, she tilts her head as she studies Bucky’s face.
“You must be Sam’s boy,” she says.
Sam’s boy?
“Uh,” Bucky says, “Sam… talks about me?” he feels his cheeks heating up.
“Oh, he mentioned knowing someone with an amputation like my husband’s,” the lady waves off, “but I could tell by the way he talked about you…” she chuckles.
“I taught him how I pin my husband’s sleeve.” She continues and looks off to the side, Bucky follows her gaze towards an old man further down the hall with his sleeve pinned exactly the way Sam did Bucky’s.
“I told him why I liked it,” she says, almost in a daze, not paying much attention to Bucky, “because I get to be so close to him, just us together…”
Bucky bites his lip as he remembers him and Sam at his front door.
“Yeah,” he says quietly and the lady looks at him with a smile.
“Linda? What are you…?” Sam’s voice comes from the other end of the hall, Bucky turns to see him walking forwards, his eyes on the lady in front of Bucky. When Sam’s gaze finally lands on Bucky, his steps slow to a stop.
“Bucky…” Sam says, nodding professionally.
Linda glances between them and her smile drops.
“Oh, you two need to talk,” she says, reaching forward and patting Bucky’s arm. “I’ll tell everyone to wait,” she says to Sam, making him furrow his eyebrows.
“No, no, Linda, we can start, Bucky-,”
“Has something he wants to say to you,” Linda cuts in, “right?” she asks Bucky.
Bucky’s eyes shyly meet Sam’s and he nods, “yeah…” he says.
“I’m sure no one will complain if I bring out more cookies,” Linda says, heading off down the hall towards the gathering of people that’s growing around the entrance to one of the rooms.
Bucky watches her go before dragging his gaze back to Sam.
“So?” Sam asks, crossing his arms, “what are you doing here?”
Bucky takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, Sam scoffs and opens his mouth to speak but Bucky talks over him, “I’m sorry that I’m an idiot who didn’t know what I wanted.”
Bucky looks away from Sam when his face contorts in confusion. At Sam’s silence, Bucky continues.
“I’m sorry that I hid behind that stupid resolution because… because I really wanted to date you but I was too scared to admit that, and because I was scared, I hurt you. I think I kinda knew that I liked you and I was just… pretending to pretend to like you? I don’t even know if that makes sense but… I’m so sorry I hurt you, you didn’t deserve that.”
Bucky eyes turn back at Sam, who looks as if he’s seen a ghost.
“I want you to know that everything I did with you was real, even if I wanted to pretend it wasn’t.”
Bucky didn’t plan the flowers reveal, so he awkwardly takes the brown paper off and holds it out to Sam.
“I-, I’m sorry,” he says, looking down at Sam’s feet, keeping the bouquet held towards him.
A few seconds pass, Bucky starts to feel like an idiot holding these flowers out towards a man that he hurt so badly. Bucky is two seconds from apologising (again), taking the flowers back, and running out of there.
But then there’s a shaky hand wrapping around the base of the bouquet, taking it from Bucky.
“Are these… hibiscuses?”
Bucky looks up to see Sam gaping at the flowers, his face unreadable.
“Yeah,” Bucky blurts, “I got ‘em ‘cause… you said they were your favourite.”
“Did I?” Sam says absent-mindedly, then the two of them stand there in silence once more.
Bucky waits, his finger scratching at his cuticles by his side as he watches Sam slowly shut his mouth and look back at Bucky. His eyes scan up and down Bucky’s body, making Bucky stand ramrod straight.
“You’re a mess,” Sam says, raising an eyebrow.
Bucky nods defeatedly, “yeah…”
Sam huffs, Bucky thinks he can almost see a smile forming in the corner of his mouth.
“I’ve been a mess too,” he mumbles.
Sam shuffles the flowers over in his hands a bit, then speaks again.
“Steve talked to me a few days ago.”
Bucky scratches the back of his neck, wincing. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”
“Just something about how he’s worried that you’re secretly gay and repressing yourself to the point of destruction,” Sam says.
Bucky sighs and his eyes go to the ceiling.
Of course Steve said that.
“Well,” Bucky looks back to Sam, “obviously he knows me better than I do. But I might be…” Bucky puts his hand in his pocket nervously and shrugs, “bi? Or something? I don’t know, but I… I really like you. And if you don’t want me anymore, I understand, I just… I didn’t want you to think that I was just trying to trick you.”
Bucky watches Sam’s face as they stare at each other, fear runs through Bucky when he sees Sam’s eyes welling up with tears.
“Sam-,” Bucky starts to say, but Sam speaks.
“Bucky, honestly, I think I’ll always want you,” Sam gives a teary laugh.
Bucky gapes, hope igniting in his chest.
“S-, so?” he asks, he works up the dignity to square his shoulders, “would you, maybe, have me back?” he winces.
Sam barks out a laugh and on his face is that beautiful smile that Bucky has been missing these past few days.
Holy shit… Bucky thinks, I can’t believe it.
“Yes, Buck,” Sam says, walking towards him.
Bucky catches Sam around his waist as Sam wraps his arms around him, wasting no time burying his nose into Sam’s shoulder and feeling Sam’s warmth across his cheeks.
“I guess, now I know why you seemed so nervous all the time,” Sam laughs into Bucky’s shoulder.
“I think that was just ‘cause you make me nervous, angel,” Bucky mumbles back, not being able to resist pressing a kiss to the side of Sam’s neck.
Sam picks his head up and takes Bucky’s face in his hands, the flowers hit the floor. Sam pushes forwards and Bucky melts into the kiss that’s laid on him. He feels how Sam’s fingers tangle in his hair, messing up his bun, and he runs his hand up Sam’s back to press into him even more. Sam’s teeth nip at Bucky’s lip, the shock making him stifle a moan. He can feel his neck getting hotter as his lips start feeling swollen.
They break apart, gasping, Bucky’s heart is beating fast in the best possible way.
“I can’t believe,” Bucky pants, “that I felt like that after our first kiss and I still didn’t fucking realise…”
“You realised eventually,” Sam huffs, “now kiss me again, I have a meeting to lead soon.”
Bucky laughs into the kiss Sam gives him but quickly presses back against Sam, willing to take anything he can get from him after ages of pretending he didn’t want it.
A wolf whistle comes from the crowd of people Linda joined and Sam swears, taking them out of their kiss.
“I’m never gonna live this down,” Sam chuckles to himself, then looks back at Buck’s face, his eyes softening.
He reaches up and plays with Bucky’s hair a bit.
Hopefully, getting it more presentable, Bucky thinks, but you can never tell with Sam.
He finishes by cupping Bucky’s cheek and Bucky leans into it almost desperately.
“You can wait out here until the session’s over, if you want,” Sam says, “it’ll be, like, an hour, maybe more if people are talkative.”
“Sure,” Bucky says, not taking his eyes off of Sam’s.
“Sam!” Someone calls from the group and Sam tears his eyes away.
“Alright, I’m coming!” Sam yells, then leans in and gives Bucky one last kiss.
“See you in a bit,” he mumbles then grabs his flowers off the ground and heads towards the crowd of people smirking at him. Bucky watches him leave, seeing him glance back and smile every few steps before he finally goes into the room with the rest of the crowd.
Bucky feels a welling up of emotion that he can’t describe, something he’s never felt before. He sits down on one of the benches lining the hallways, touching his knuckles to his lips.
I don’t really know what love is and I don’t know what it feels like, Bucky thinks, then looks towards the door that Sam went through.
But if someone told me that this was it… I’d believe them.