I’ll Keep What I Wish For

by sassyseme

Summary:

Sam’s brother Gideon returns one night after years of silence, and he doesn’t approve of Sam being with a former Winter Soldier or that his younger brother is gay…

Notes:

Hi and welcome! 🥺

This suddenly came to me due to the fixation that so many fics don't talk about Gideon… then I couldn’t get it out of my head… and here we are. Title is inspired by Cinderella's A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes, "Whatever you wish for, you keep…"

What's funny is I started this before the Easter egg in She-Hulk that Gideon Wilson exists in the MCU (yay!), so that's fun! Haha, he is based on the beloved Hulk comics even though the setting is MCU. I'm sure canon MCU him won't be so... edgy. ;)

A/N: Previously, I'd mistaken Cass as the younger sibling... It drove me crazy so I finally fixed it (thank you word replace function). Now Cass is older. If you started at the beginning and fell off, that's why it's different.

A/N: Did do a full grammar revision as well. Lmao my bad for that prior mess. Oof^2.

Enjoy~!

Chapter 1: Cinderella

Summary:

Date night is interrupted.

Explicit-ish

Delacroix, Louisiana

2025

 

Sam didn’t want Gideon to find out about him and Bucky in the worst way, and, Sam supposed, he didn’t. The worst possible way would’ve been an hour and a half later with his mouth sucking Bucky like a lollipop and then fucking the daylights out of him as he whimpered and started begging, getting real dirty about it, hips slamming back against Sam while moaning.

Jesus, that would have ended their relationship. Maybe Sarah could come back from something that embarrassing, and thankfully, they’d never gotten the chance to test it. He always made sure she was out of the house for hours and the kids were at a sleepover.

Gideon wasn’t built that way. His mind had settled somewhere between a rock and a hard place, firm in his ways, weathered like Ma could be. He wasn’t a piece on the board to consider because he hadn’t even contacted either sibling for years… and yet, he was the last person who Sam wanted to tell about him and Bucky… because Sam hadn’t told him about being gay. 

So, if Gideon had found Sam in Bucky’s lap straddling him on the couch, moaning as Bucky practically dry humped him through his jeans, breath in his mouth, tongue tasting his teeth, that would have been pretty bad. And thankfully, he didn’t. 

The way he found out was only a little bad, but enough to leave Sam feeling anger and shame that he hadn’t felt in years, crying in a way he hadn’t in months, and unable to hold back his super boyfriend from fighting his brother who suddenly hated him.

~*~

“Do we have to watch the movie?” Bucky whispered in Sam’s ear, hands clasped around his stomach. He tickled Sam’s skin with insinuation.

“Come on,” Sam moaned, comfortable in Bucky’s lap as Bucky smushed his face into the crease of his neck, forcing a shiver even though the heat was on. The shivers lasted for an additional moment as Bucky kissed him all the way under the jaw, and Sam finally - somehow, Jesus - found the strength to push out of his hold.

Sam turned around and crossed his arms, stern. “Baby.”

Bucky swallowed, giving a shy smile at his playful squint. “I mean, we could be spending the night in other ways instead of watching Cinderella 5?”

Sam laughed, not missing the way Bucky trailed his slick hands up his thighs over his jeans and slithered into his belt loops with two fingers. The tug was suddenly strong, bringing Sam crashing into his lap, a groan on both of their lips as they grinded. And Bucky, that little rat, kept going, rolling his hips up, eyes glazing, making Sam want it.

Fuck, he knew that drove Sam crazy, when he’d suddenly turn on his strength like a button that awoke both of their primal sides. Bucky’s hands were hot on Sam’s back, even having the nerve to slide one into the rim of his briefs as Sam managed to strain, “But it’s the fifth one, baby, please-“

That made Bucky groan and slow his roll, releasing him. “I want to make out right after, doll, right after.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll even suck your dick.”

“And I’m gonna suck yours, too,” Bucky murmured and pulled Sam into his arms. Then they were cuddling on the sofa again, and an angry kiss was placed on the back of Sam’s head.

As the movie played, Sam settled the blanket over both of them and pulled out the foot rests. He laid on top of Bucky, back pressed to Bucky’s chest as he occasionally received more lovingly upset kisses.

He couldn’t help it. Sex was one thing, and exciting, and great, but how often did they get to have a real date together at home? Sure, Sarah and the boys didn’t mind them cuddling at the couch or cooking together and smiling at each other. AJ had blatantly gone, “Aww,” once, seeing Bucky hug over Sam’s shoulder while he chopped ingredients for TT’s beef stew recipe. That small reaction made Sam’s eyes water, claiming it was the onions. 

Seeing his nephews and sister approve of him was something he couldn’t have dreamed of in the Air Force, closeted, unable to really say what was wrong until Riley opened him up. Now, he could just be proud of who he loved and not have to apologize for it.

Cuddling while watching Cinderella 5, in hindsight, that was the best case scenario given the moment, the dim lights, and the ambiance. That image was a better stage set than how he’d planned to slink out of Bucky’s lap and onto the floor once the movie stopped, unbuckling Bucky’s jeans, sucking him to the bottom right then and there. 

They were smiling at the fifth movie where Disney had finally included a gay prince, Prince Charming’s cousin from some distant land who visited for the latest ball but found a male lover working on the staff. That kind of scene was better… Sam later told himself… it could have been worse.

“Wake up, they’re dancing,” Sam whispered, smiling at the two princes as they waltzed while sneaking a kiss.

Bucky moaned a little, opening his eyes. He’d been lulled to sleep by the medium volume of the TV, the washer running, and the overall peaceful breath of the Wilson home.

“Mm, is it over?”

Sam shook his head with a smile. “I’m gonna make you watch it again just for falling asleep.”

Bucky didn’t chuckle back like he usually would. Sam waited for a response, then paused the movie. Through their connection, he felt something odd in Bucky’s posture. Bucky suddenly sat up, making Sam shift forward.

“You okay, baby?”

“Did-“ Bucky narrowed, tilting his head as Sam followed his eyes to the door. Sam’s own heart starting to pick up in response like it was a mission. “Did Sarah switch cars?”

Sam raised both brows, shaking his head as he looked from Bucky, half his hair sticking up, breaths almost invisible, to the door. Sigh. 

“Maybe her friend dropped her off, baby. I’ll give her a call if it’s deep.”

Because, really, Sam had always considered the possibility that his job would affect his family, especially after Karli. But their side of town was very safe and they knew all of the neighbors. They went through measures to keep a certain radius surveyed by an AI that Rhodey installed. Family and friends ventured through with ease. Sam didn’t believe anyone would attack them right now, knowing their skills and background, and… well, was it wrong that he wanted tonight to feel perfect?

Bucky hesitated. 

Sam threw both arms around his waist, hugging his back. Lights flashed through cracks in the curtains over his shoulder, and Sam smiled. “See, it’s Sarah, baby, no alarms.” And he got Bucky to sit back down, taking a deep breath with him. Sam understood, it was hard to adjust to being safe, but they were together now. Things were different, they had each other.

“It just- didn’t sound like-” Bucky started and then shook his head, exhaling out the tension as Sam found a place on his lap again. This time, Sam wouldn’t care if Sarah walked in and they were hugging. Her fault for not staying over Tonya’s like she said she would. Let her call them old lover birds, and he’d laugh back happily.

“I know, baby,” Sam said gently, giving Bucky a kiss before they settled into a cuddle. He rested his head in Bucky’s chest and reached for the remote to resume the last part of the movie. It was his favorite, after all, where the leads said they’d be happily ever after, cheesy and perfect.

Though, Sam really should have trusted Bucky’s instincts, considering the guy had experience with danger. Therapists called it trauma responses and other more complicated phrases that Bucky relayed back to him during a few vents. They don’t get it, Sam, I know danger, it’s not always fucking anxiety. He did know, this time he really did.

Would Sam have believed him, though? That someone had driven a car right up to the driveway, didn’t trip any alarms, recognized by the too-smart surveillance because he did technically belong there. 

Relax, it’s just Sarah. Idiot. 

Sarah’s steps were heavy up the porch, and Sam thought nothing of it, thinking maybe she was drunk; he felt Bucky tense again, left arm whirring a little. She fumbled with her keys, the way she always did, and Sam smiled, pressing his head to Bucky’s shoulder, rubbing his chest to calm him. At first.

Late as it was due to wishful thinking, a sense finally touched him, accompanied by a pinch in his gut. TT said not to ignore those. Sam paused the movie and reached for his gun on the table, not quite as hands curled around his knees and waist a little protectively.

He gave Bucky a gentle look, and he nodded. It could still be nothing. But, his gut…

The door opened, and with it came a slight breeze and a block of emotion that hit Sam like he hadn’t felt in a long time. Staring at him was a man who resembled him, a little taller, definitely less hair, but with a killer beard that made up for it. Sam’s voice caught in his throat and he couldn’t stand up this time, legs going slack, not knowing what to do as Gideon’s deep voice, sounding like their dad, asked, “The hell you watching?”

Bucky started to shift but Sam didn’t move, all but frozen as he put his gun down. Bucky held him instead, legs ready to stand at any moment, all but saying, I’m here, doll, okay, I’m here.

Gideon landed on Bucky, and his eyes filled with something different - confused, maybe disgusted, angry, mostly dark.

“Gid-“ Sam started, shaking. “Been a while-“

“Sammy, same here,” Gideon returned politely and put down his bag, trench coat wrinkling as he hung it at the door. Without it, revealing a powerful frame and a rugged outfit, donned by a chest holster. The floorboards creaked under his weight.

Bucky suddenly hardened. 

Gideon took a sigh, patting his coat, and then turned back to Sam, voice coating with venom as he smiled. “Now, Sammy, what in the hell are you doing with that mutant?”

***

Chapter 2: Conflict

Summary:

Things escalate quickly.

Notes:

Hurt ;-;

“Gideon, it’s fine,” Sam said, standing feet from him, almost close enough to feel his body heat. His voice caught in his throat and took the air with it, “This is Bucky… he’s-“

Shit. What would he say… he’s my boyfriend? No, why couldn’t he say it? Guilt and a swirl of emotions swelled in his chest, suffocating him.

“Your what?” Gideon asked, stepping out of the door to pull in a suitcase. 

Sam suddenly felt small like he did when they were growing up, always waiting for Gideon to decide where they were going to go play, what flavor of ice cream they’d share since they only had a quarter for both of them, what they’d eat when Ma and Pa were still working. It didn’t even make sense that he was taken back there, waiting at the door like a child for Gideon to pull in his second bag and close the door, shutting out the crickets and the lights of all the fireflies that were waiting to see an explosion. 

“My… boyfriend,” Sam finally said so quietly that he almost couldn’t get it out. Bucky tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter, eyes focused hard on both of them, but mostly at the shake in Sam’s shoulders.

Gideon turned back, head tilting a bit toward Sam as if saying, I didn’t get that. 

“I’m his boyfriend, Bucky Barnes,” Bucky said an octave louder.

Gideon tensed hard, lifting a hand and putting it on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing a little, and suddenly pulling him into a hug. 

“Why?” he whispered in Sam’s ear, holding Sam close as he eyed Bucky like he was something foreign, met back by very hostile blue eyes.

Sam clung to the hold so that Gideon wouldn’t let him go, so that he’d stop the monsters from getting him like when they had to share a bed because the tree kept tapping the window. Except, as Sam’s eyes glossed and they broke away, he looked into his brother’s eyes and saw that to Gideon, the monster was Bucky.

“I don’t understand,” Gideon firmly, voice at an inside level now, “You always liked girls… this is extreme.”

Sam broke away this time, but Gideon’s thick, callused hand stayed on Sam’s shoulder, something hurt in his eyes. It made Sam want to double over and vomit.

“I can’t do this right now, Gid, please,” Sam said. He finally broke away and turned on his heel, putting space between them.

Gideon suddenly laughed, voice echoing high enough in the silent room to make Sam flinch. “You can’t do what, Sam? I walk in here and you’re doing a lot now, big man.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam mumbled, whipping back around, “We can talk… whatever we need to talk about in the morning.”

“After you finish this fairy mess?” Gideon asked, yet something physically left Sam’s body as he stared blank, unable to hide the respect that those words took from him.

“Gid…”

“Sam doesn’t want to talk right now,” Bucky said, putting both hands on Sam’s shoulders, knowing that contact grounded him. Sam hadn’t even heard him step closer.

Gideon’s face twitched, eyes scrolling over the vibranium in Bucky’s left hand. 

“Sam, I can’t just sit and watch this.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Bucky hissed in return, hands tightening a little as a hard breath escaped, “He’s your brother.”

“Don’t tell me about my family,” Gideon growled, stepping closer, hostile.

Sam’s stomach dropped, something in his chest starting to ache, a pain that only came to him at certain times, right near his first stab wound, a battle during his first tour. 

“Stop, both of you, stop,” the words came out in heaves, and Sam couldn’t stop himself from doubling over, feeling like he’d be sick for real this time. Like the room was a mine field and anywhere he stepped would blow his heart to smithereens.

“Sam!” Bucky suddenly kneeled next to him, eyes concerned. “Doll, you okay?”

Sam realized the loud rasping was himself struggling to breathe.

“Get the hell away from my brother,” Gideon snapped and he grabbed Bucky, who ripped out of his grip and yanked Gideon by the harness, fists curling up so tight that the skin turned white on the knuckle of his right hand. 

“Please,” Bucky whispered, flitting between both of his eyes. In a mere blink, Bucky was thrown onto the floor, wrestling against Gideon, conflicted in his eyes, aware of his strength, but above it looking angry, so angry, so very angry when he thought of the way Gideon looked at his brother, at Sam, how it broke him.

“Stop,” Sam was crying now, tears running heavily down his eyes, and he didn’t hear the car park a ways from the house nor Sarah happily stumbling up the path because she’d gotten a ride from her friends, after all. He couldn’t hear anything because it’d been the first blatant attack he’d had in so long that he didn’t even know what to do. How to stop it.

Sarah opened the front door and screamed, dropping her bags as she found Gideon and Bucky rolling around with disarmed knives, scratching up the floor. Then she saw Sam curled in the corner of the kitchen, hands around himself, looking unsafe.

She whispered, “Get up and get the hell out.”

They froze and she shouted it this time.

Sam caught his breath, lowering to the floor as he watched Gideon and Bucky separate, eyeing the other carefully. Bucky stepped toward the back door, glancing once over his shoulder, and then stopping in front of Sam. 

“Doll, I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Sam heard remorse and anger in the inflection. Bucky leaned down and placed a kiss on Sam’s brow. Sarah eyed Bucky carefully, the way she never really did, hadn’t needed to in a long time. 

Sam tried to reply and then it came out as sobs. Wherever he’d gone, he was back from the mine field, but now everything felt like a void of pain and panic. Of shame.

Sarah squatted down and rubbed his shoulder, talking to him gently. At least trying to. 

“Sarah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam felt himself rocking back and forth.

“Where’s your meds?”

“I-In the drawer,” his voice was shaky.

She found it and read each bottle before finding the one for severe panic attacks and poured him a glass of water, taking out one pill. “Here, Sam, wait a second.”

Sarah stood and crossed her arms at Gideon who was picking up his things in the doorway. “I told you to get out.”

Gideon started, “How could you allow that killer in our family home?”

“I’m not gonna ask twice. Motel’s empty down the road. Sleep in your damn car for all I care.”

Gideon made a grand motion. “Sarah! I’m not the enemy here, what side are you on?”

“Sam’s.” She pointed at the door.

He blinked, surveilled the room, then he shook his head, muttering, “Fine, you’ll come around, I’m always right about these things.”

Gideon left with heavy footsteps, and they were alone. 

Sarah took a deep breath as if realizing she was still a little drunk and only sober for a moment. “Oh God, I thought my biggest headache was going to be drinking with these women.”

Sam held the half-empty glass, pressing his head to the cabinet door as she poured herself a tall glass and then sat with him, imitating his tired posture. 

“You okay? I thought I might have to drunk-drive your ass to the hospital for a second and get us both committed.” She let out a chuckle. 

Sam was quiet for a moment, sad.

“I should have stopped them,” he said, eyes somewhere in her skin as she moved closer and held a hand to his cheek. That’s what you did when something was your fault. Standing up… like a real man.

“Did something happen?”

“I told him Bucky’s my boyfriend.”

Sarah frowned. “That’s all?”

Sam’s lip quivered. 

“Fuck, I am somehow not even drunk enough for this.” She started to tear up and then sighed. “I don’t know what to say, Sam. Shit.”

He held his hand over hers, trying to push away the images of him and his brother, young and stupid, doing everything together - until they weren’t, and they grew apart, and now Gideon hated this part of him. Secretly, Sam knew he always would if he found out.

“It hurts.”

“I’m sure,” she whispered, pulling him into her arms.

They sat there on the floor longer, huddled against each other until Sam felt like he could breathe again. He hadn’t heard the roar of an engine, so he knew that Gideon was still in his car. “Sarah, let him in.”

She blinked, tiredly. 

“Please,” Sam whispered and she sighed, rubbing a palm against her forehead before she mumbled, “Sam, Jesus, only cause it’s what you want.”

Sam smiled and started to rise from his seat, gazing around the room, remembering how peaceful it felt many moments ago. “I need to find Bucky, I’ll stay with him tonight.”

Sarah nodded, leaning against the wall to think, and then she went outside. The screen door banged behind her, echoing in his ears. He headed to the bathroom and took his toothbrush and Bucky’s, paused to see his face looking horrible in the mirror, splashed water on it. Then he went to his room and stuffed a duffel with two sets of clothes and his sneakers, travel-size items. At last, he reached for his jacket by the door, hand pausing over Gideon’s. It smelled like him, like faint Cuban cigars and roasted apples.

Outside, he saw Sarah leaning over the window of an old school Cadillac, and he could hear how upset she sounded. He felt sick for making her fight his battle for him. That should have been him rolling on the floor, fighting for the man he loved instead of breaking down. 

Bucky sat on the back porch with a six-pack of beers, his backpack next to him. He must have grabbed it when Sam went upstairs. 

“You know,” he started after his throat bobbed, swallowing another gulp, “I have been on worse dates… it just never felt this bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said.

“I shouldn’t have fought with him, should’ve just walked away, fuck, Sarah…” His hands were shaking and he put down his beer. “The boys… what if they’d seen.”

Sam dropped his duffel and threw himself into Bucky as Bucky stood and caught him, beer on his lips. Sam inhaled every inch of him, lips locked desperately, briefly.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, hands on Sam’s face, examining him carefully, even though he looked more scratched up himself.

Sam nodded. “I’m okay…” He bit his lip awkwardly. “Are we?”

Bucky looked confused. “Course, doll, always, come here.” They kissed again.

Thank you, Sam sighed. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Bucky said and then drank the rest of his beer. He placed his backpack in Sam’s arms, who ogled at it a little confused and put it on before Bucky stashed away the closed beers into the duffel and lifted it. “Get on.”

Sam blushed, staring at Bucky’s back as he hunched over, otherwise ridiculous if not the sweetest man in the world. Sam sighed and climbed onto his back, cheek pressed to his shoulder.  Bucky hoisted Sam’s legs around his waist as the front door closed inside, likely Sarah and Gideon coming in for the night. 

“You still paying for the Airbnb?” Sam mumbled, growing a little sleepy from the medication.

Bucky shook his head. Sam kicked his past self who had told Bucky to stop paying for a place to stay since he’d slept in Sam’s room every damn night.

“Just reserved one again when you were inside. The owner said go ahead, keys under the mat.”

Ah. That made sense. Sam smiled at how tech-savvy his fossil of a boyfriend was. 

They walked down the road, and Sam tried his best to leave what went down in the household behind, realizing he left the TV on, and, sigh, “I forgot my medication.”

Bucky paused. “I’ll get it.”

“I can take it at twelve,” Sam murmured, starting to get a lot more sleepy, “Because of this sedative, I can't take the others too soon.”

Bucky seemed to absorb his rambles and yawns as Sam explained his complicated doctor’s orders. Then they were walking again, agreeing to get it tomorrow.

The Airbnb was a thirty-minute walk from the house, and Sam wondered if he should have just told Bucky to take his truck. But as Sam started to fall asleep on his shoulder, Bucky tightening his grip on him, he understood that Bucky needed to carry him there and hold him safe, close. Needed to do something tangible to show how sorry he was, that he both regretted it and he would do it again in a heartbeat to protect him. 

Sam didn’t know when he’d started to rely on Bucky this much, but he couldn’t let go, either, no matter who was on the other side against him, even if it was his brother. 

***

Chapter 3: Morning

Summary:

Sam opens up to Bucky

Explicit

Sam opened his eyes, and he had slept a lot better than he thought he would. Maybe crying it all out had exhausted him.

Bucky laid with his head on Sam’s chest, eyes closed and breathing softly, his weight being a usual comfort. The waves of their breaths aligned perfectly, and the moment laying there left Sam with a gentle blissful feeling. It was early, and he could sleep longer, but he was up because his body expected to run. He decided not to oblige this time and closed his eyes again, rubbing his hand in Bucky’s hair, the soothing touch taking him back to rest.

This time, Sam snapped his eyes open, breath unsteady, feeling stimulated below, hot in his lower half. Bucky stared up at him, lips on his nipple, and Sam rolled his eyes with a smile. “God, you.”

“Good morning,” Bucky murmured and then sucked again, and Sam let out a soft moan, which stirred Bucky on, shifting so that Sam could feel him hard on his leg.

“Mmm, we should go by the house,” Sam moaned again, stretching as Bucky ran hands up his thighs since he was only in his briefs. 

The clock in the corner read 9AM, which surprised Sam because he never slept in that late. Bucky stopped his sucking to glance up. “Is that okay? Sarah-“

“She’s probably opened up the restaurant,” Sam finally caught his breath, “Gid would have gone with her.” He suddenly groaned as Bucky moved on top of him, their lower halves touching. “Fuck-“

“So we have a little time before you need it,” Bucky pulled his t-shirt off and Sam smiled silly, taking in his body. “Your meds, I mean.”

“Oh, I need it alright,” Sam chuckled, his laughs turning into moans as Bucky pushed his thighs open, their lower halves colliding from the friction. “Mmm, Bucky.”

Sam leaned back against the pillow, pushing off his underwear and then watching Bucky do the same.

“God, I want to ride you,” Bucky whispered in his ear as they grinded again, skin on skin, forcing Sam to whine, their heat almost too much. “Ride you till you fucking cry, make you feel so good.”

“Shit-“ Sam’s voice caught in his throat and Bucky kissed him open-mouthed, hips stimulating them both as Sam came, shaking on the bed, breaking away to gasp for breath. Bucky continued his movement, his voice changing in Sam’s ear as he followed suit, pleasure pulled from him before he collapsed on top, their stomachs sticky.

The room fell silent and peaceful as they calmed, and Sam smiled. In the light, he could take in how homely the place looked, rustic in design with clean shades. He said, “You’re gonna have to wait for a little, the ride's closed for maintenance.”

Bucky chuckled, kissing him on the sternum, and then rolling onto his back to stretch and groan. “Want to shower? It’s big enough to fuck in there.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Sam blushed. “The shower and fucking, just… want to breathe first.”

Bucky nodded, understanding, as they lay there, staring at the ceiling, holding hands.

“This place is nice.”

“Yeah.”

~*~

The house was empty, thankfully, when Sam and Bucky jogged over. Since the distance span was about ten minutes running, it was a good warm-up and made Sam feel a little more refreshed. He was glad to run at all, remembering pointers from self-help work about getting back on a regular schedule after a bad day. Though, surely, his therapist hadn’t imagined the type of day he’d had.

Bucky hadn’t yet asked, and Sam felt grateful for it, but he knew that Bucky was concerned. He kept close to Sam even when walking in the door.

Sam traced a finger over a picture of Cass and AJ on the fridge, quietly praying that they didn’t spoil when they grew up, stayed loving and innocent forever. Brothers shouldn’t fight. Bucky touched his hip, looked at the picture, too, and then kissed him. Bucky didn’t have brothers, but on a deeper level, maybe he could understand fighting with who you loved, perhaps with Steve.

“Here, doll.” Bucky shook a bottle.

The clock read eleven and Sam said alright, taking his cocktail of pills and washing it down with water. He didn’t feel any different, but it had an over-time effect that helped him cope with the everyday stuff. The sedatives were only for emergencies.

Bucky placed two clean glasses on the table and pulled out lemonade and iced tea from the fridge.

“Hey,” Sam mumbled, waiting for him to turn around, “I love you.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he smiled like Sam was the sun and the moon and all the stars, taking him in a hug, whispering, “I love you, too.” 

It’s not that they’d never said it… they just didn’t often, but Sam meant it when he did. Always. Maybe that made the moment more special. He didn’t have to explain that because Bucky understood. He understood when making Sam breakfast at the cottage, not asking about his brother, just waiting to be let in. They kissed again, and stayed like that for a moment. 

Sam left the house and sat on the back porch, staring at all of the trees where he had trained before accepting the shield. Not that he always used the thing; every mission didn't call for flashy colors, but it was there when he needed it. Funny how the outdoors always looked so peaceful when you were using it to escape the real stuff. The screen door creaked and Bucky sat down next to him, handing him a glass of half iced tea, half lemonade. AJ’s favorite. He leaned on Sam’s shoulder, placing another kiss there. 

A couple of minutes passed before Sam’s heart could calm down enough to let the words out; they were stuck to the inside of his lungs like paper mache, and he washed it down with a long sip. 

“I never told him.”

Bucky rubbed Sam’s bare knee, exposed by his shorts, left hand a little cool from the glass. “Can’t say I blame you,” exhale.

Sam shook his head. “It never seemed like the right time. I was in the Air Force when I even realized I could love another man, Buck. I want to say it was a new and great feeling, but I felt like throwing up all the time, hiding this secret. I remember guys who couldn’t hide it, and how everyone talked about them behind their backs, how heavy they looked all the time. I tried to treat them well, be friendly, maybe cause of my guilt, but they were guarded and had every right to be. I probably would be wary of some closeted guy, too. Riley gave me a chance, didn’t care if I wasn’t out or not. You couldn’t ask on base, but…”

“You still knew.”

He nodded. “Gideon saw me off before my first tour, and he was so proud of me. Never looked like that before, like I was gonna be something. Said if I climbed through the ranks high enough, I could settle down, get any… woman I wanted.”

Bucky groaned. “Jesus, people always just… assume. I know that felt like shit.”

Sam stared at nothing, nodding, his home blurring into a haze of greens and purple, bits of pollen flying around them, one piece catching in Bucky’s hand.

“Did you know he was homophobic?”

The words made Sam shift uncomfortably, but he admitted, “Maybe.”

They watched a gofer run across the field.

“Deep down? It’s not like he beat up gay kids, he just… was so fixated on the right way to be a man, thought I shouldn’t bake with TT and work on the boat with Dad instead, become a church man. Thought I shouldn’t be “everyone’s friend,” but he only said that about my drama club friends, not the ones playing sports.” Sam smiled, eyes somewhere else. “I remember one Halloween he was visiting but I was at a party, so he drove to pick me up. I’d done gender-switched outfits with my girlfriend, Leila, so she was a football player, and I was the cheerleader.”

Bucky smiled. “Lesbian Leila?”

“Insta bio says pansexual last I checked.” Sam winked. “I might have just dated her cause she got me even before I could say it. Really, we were more like best friends who made out and talked about hot guys. Gideon couldn’t stand her, must’ve been relieved when we broke up and I went to the Air Force-“

Sam let out a big laugh.

Bucky snickered, bumping his shoulder again. “Gotta love gay women, they’re the best.” He grinned wide, maybe remembering the forties women he went on double dates with, gals he’d swing around during stationary periods, secrets kept between them, being each other’s safe spaces. 

Sam smiled. “Yeah.”

“What happened at the party?” Bucky motioned. “Halloween-“

“Oh, God.”

“Bad?”

“No, it was great. Fun as hell. Everyone thought our costumes were a riot, even some other guys had the same idea who you’d think were straight as a damn rod. One of them was giving me eyes while dancing, Marquis, thought I imagined it. You know, he came out on Facebook. Got a son and a husband, real cute Christmas photos.”

“Must’ve been hard being so sexy,” Bucky murmured in his ear and Sam moaned, smiling. 

He exhaled, leaning on Bucky fully, shoulders feeling lighter. “Gideon just looked so pissed off. Went home first, and wouldn’t drive me back,” he raised finger quotes, “Looking like that. I thought he was being a prude since he’d wanted to be a bishop, didn’t want rumors going around. I was a dumb teenager, what did I know? I didn’t even think I was gay.”

“Sam,” Bucky said carefully, “You know I didn’t tell most of my family… granted.” They’re well past deceased. 

“Would you have?” Sam mumbled, peeking out the corner of his eye.

Bucky laughed. “Hell no, it was the fucking thirties and forties. I’d untell my cat if I could have, the little pussy probably outed me before I fell into the damn ice.”

Sam chuckled with him, finally taking another long sip of his lemonade, now warm but still sweet and made with love. 

“I’m just saying, I’ve been reading some of the new age stuff. Everyone’s not out; I mean, celebrities maybe, but not all regular people.”

Sam raised a brow. “I’m not exactly a regular person any more, Buck.”

Bucky huffed. “Still, everyone doesn’t know you’re with me.” To be correct, most people didn’t other than close family and friends, the Avengers.

“Does it… bother you?” Sam asked carefully.

“Of course not! Sam, yesterday and today are different, but it’s like this - if it’s not safe for you to come out, you don’t have to, and that makes sense to me. Why does everyone need to know about us? If they want to assume I don’t suck your dick every morning, that’s on them.”

Sam choked back a laugh.

“Darling,” he said, softer, “I can’t make everyone happy, and fuck them if they want me to. I only care about you. You’re more important than anyone’s comfort, and if they make you uncomfortable, I’m not gonna sit idly. Sam, I’d murder for you.”

“I know… but please don’t murder?” Sam winced. “Like, really, do not.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Then he put down his empty glass and took Sam’s hand. “Samuel… this shit sucks, but you’re perfect… you’re a garden of rainbow daisies, a lover of the Earth, a twix bar.”

Sam tried to take in the glossy blue eyes, but snorted his drink this time instead, slapping the porch. “Baby, what the hell? Did you get that off a gay hallmark card?!”

Bucky gaped then muttered low, “They’re good cards.”

Sam couldn’t contain his laughs.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

“Hold up.” He checked his phone and saw Sarah’s name, taking a breath to calm down before Bucky nodded to him. “Hey, ‘Rah.”

“Hey, peanut head, how you feeling?” she asked over the sounds of the dock, tables being waited, the ocean, some seagulls.

Sam rolled his eyes as Bucky smirked. “Better, a little off, but I’m at the house with Bucky. You need some help at the restaurant?”

“Carlos, put down that damn box before you throw out your back!” she yelled, making Sam blink. She added quieter, “I’m gonna clock out, let one of the girls close. Couple hours in, the place runs itself.”

Bucky rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. “That’s good. You want me to pick up the boys?”

“Sam,” Sarah said with a sigh, “I want you to rest. You still don’t sound like yourself.”

He went quiet, staring at the glass in his hand.

“I don’t know what to do about you and Gideon right now.”

“He with you?”

“Eating all the damn lobster mac and cheese, that cretin.” She shouted, “Go ahead, don’t bother leaving none for the customers!”

Sam smiled, eyes sad. 

“This is all a mess. I need y’all to talk it out. No fighting inside, fight outside, I know y’all Wilson men like to tussle. But please don’t let the boys see this. I don’t want them to know their uncles can’t overcome this.”

“Love you, Rah.” He waited for a love you too and then hung up, staring at the screen. 

Sam exhaled.

“She’s right, I can’t see them like this.”

Bucky hesitated. “That depends.”

Sam groaned. 

“Who says you have to think about it now? Let’s go on a date, a proper one.”

Sam couldn’t help but grin. “Right now?”

“I’ll drive you, doll, come on.” Bucky had already decided and was getting up, taking their glasses back inside.

Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Just like that? What if my family needs me?”

“Sam,” Bucky said sternly, starting to wash the couple of dishes, “AJ, Cass, and Sarah can live without you for a day. It’ll give you time to calm down, work out a plan.” The words were surprisingly level-headed.

Sam hugged his back, wrapping both hands around his waist.

“No driving, let’s take the boat. I’m gonna get dressed.” Since sailing in shorts and a t-shirt probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable.

Sam shuffled upstairs, skipping every other step to his room. He passed AJ and Cass’s room, the biggest one that had been his parents’, and then he stopped at Gideon’s, or what was really the guest room and used to be Gideon’s growing up. Gideon’s few possessions were laid on the bed, a suitcase, his trench coat, locked gun safe. That made it real, made last night real.

Sam hurried away, going to his own room to change into warm layers for being out on the water. He grabbed an extra shirt for Bucky, a couple of throw blankets, his keys, and then he went downstairs.

“Ready?” Bucky asked, eyes seeing that he’d cried a little, but not asking why.

“Let’s go have that date.” Sam smiled.

***

Notes:

Fun fact: Leila Taylor was one of Sam's love interests in the comics

Chapter 4: Boat Date

Summary:

Their boat date is blissful while it lasts

Explicit

Sam opened the door to the Wilson Family restaurant, mmm-ing out loud as the tender smell filled his chest with all the deliciousness of growing up. Family recipes passed down, plus a few new ones Sarah had whipped up. 

“God, I could eat everything already,” Bucky groaned, stomach taking interest as he entered right behind him, a hand out to urge Sam forward.

“Wilson, my boy!” Tommy shouted, and Sam immediately lit up, marching right to his booth and clapping him on the arm. “I just saw the taller one,” he laughed, “Thought I was sixty years old again!”

“You don’t look a day over fifty-five,” Sam said smoothly with a wink, and Tommy got a kick out of that, leaning all the way back in his chair, to which Bucky placed a hand on the back of it, smiling politely as he kept him upright.

“Oh! And Wilsons' permanent guest!” Tommy quipped.

Bucky’s cheeks flushed, looking at Sam with a tight smile as Sam feigned ignorance and shrugged.

“Ain’t a guest, Tommy, he's permanent.” Sam winked again and Bucky shook his head, letting it go, glad to see Sam looking happy.

“How y’all doing?” Sam greeted a few other patrons, most of them mentioning his brother, and then he made it to the front register, peeking into the glass display at the deserts still left. Luckily, it was Saturday and not Sunday. The whole kitchen was usually cleaned out on a Sunday. 

“Cobbler looks great,” Bucky murmured, a hand on Sam’s back as he peeked over Sam’s  shoulder into the glass. He felt a few stares but they weren’t the malicious kind, and Sam seemed comfortable, even if he usually toned down the touch in public.

The woman at the register smiled, not older than twenty-five. Her hair was in two puffs with the edges curly and hanging loose. Bucky silently liked it, giving a soft smile back as Sam hummed over the menu as if he didn’t know everything on it. Jesus, Sam, you co-signed the menu.

Sam finally said, “We’ll do a medium cobbler, catfish nuggets, and I’m guessing the lobster mac and cheese is out?” 

She nodded, looking surprised that he knew. “Empty pan, the last of it just went. There’s oxtails?”

“I like oxtail,” Bucky mumbled.

“Small tin of that, then. Greens of the day, steak sandwich and, uh, crab cakes, four. Hushpuppies, maybe some cornbread, oh, and cornmeal.” He looked over his shoulder at Bucky. “You, baby?”

Bucky picked up his jaw. “Jesus, doll. We eating for three?”

Sam tilted his head, brows raising high as she read it back to him. “Oh, well… scratch half of that. The less tasty half.”

She chuckled with a smile, re-totaling everything and then reading it off. Sam reached into his pockets, taking out the Disney themed credit card that they both shared, and at some point, it stopped being awkward handing it over to clerks. It would be more awkward for everyone if they argued politely over who was paying, smiling and glaring at each other, making every witness uncomfortable. 

Besides, the card made Bucky happy because it had an ours feel to it, and he moved his hand to Sam’s shoulder and knew she could see it, giving her another smile as he rubbed it. 

“Alright,” Sam put the card away, taking a breath like he’d just finished a large task, “That’s one.”

They sat down to wait in the booth across from Tommy’s chair, told just one order was in front of theirs. Sam nodded at Tommy, who’d just finished his meal, not minding them at all.

“Said you saw Gideon?” Sam asked in a gentle tone, but Bucky could recognize the slight dig to it, looking for information. 

“Yeah, I did wonder what he was doing back in town,” Tommy said, wiping his mouth, giving in easily. Bucky didn’t blame him, who could say no to that smile? Those cute eyebrows? That goatee? “It’s been… damn, it’s been years, hasn’t it?”

Sam tensed a little, and Bucky squeezed Sam’s knee under the table, his other arm on top, fingers tapping the table casually. “Yeah, I admit I didn’t expect to see him, either.” 

“About that-“

Continuing, Sam gave those slight puppy dog eyes, “Figured you’d know something, or maybe he talked to you. You’ve always been like an uncle to us.” The words were truthful, which is why they worked. Sam was good at questioning people because he used simple kindness. Tommy took Sam’s hands, smiling warmly. 

“Order for Wilson!”

“I’ll get it,” Bucky muttered, sliding out of the booth.

Sam turned back and Tommy continued low, “It’s only rumors, now, but he might have been laid off at that ministry job he had in New York. You ain’t hear that from me.”

Sam nodded slowly, thinking over the words, trying to look as though he understood them as his brain went, What fucking ministry job? As far as he’d known, Gideon stormed off during the blip, telling Sarah off, and then disappearing from the face of the Earth. Worse, Sam could find no traces of him even after asking Jarvis, forced to take down family photos from the fridge because he couldn’t stand to look at them. He kept wondering if…

“Sorry, I meant the other Wilson!” the young woman at the register quipped. Her voice carried in the intimate space.

Sam’s eyes drifted past Tommy to the light shifting in the doorway, and his body tightened.

Gideon entered, wearing all black as usual, this time with a brown jacket that made Sam huff, being vaguely sure it was his.

“Sammy,” Gideon said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, and Sam didn’t mean to glare so hard, shrugging him off.

“That my jacket?”

“Looks better on me, big Sammy.”

“I want it back.”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh, cut it out, y’all, just like boys again.” Sure, Tommy, boys that were fully armed and hostile to each other’s partners. 

Bucky stared, leaning against the counter as he was handed a second bag for Sam Wilson. Gideon moved on from the table. They brushed shoulders as they passed, and then Bucky waited for Sam to get up, give their salutation to Tommy, and then he led Sam out holding his hand tightly. 

Sam exhaled outside, the fresh air of the docks filling his lungs. “Is it fucked up that I’m relieved to see he’s alive?”

“He’s your brother.”

“And I want to kill him for touching you.”

“Reasonable.” Bucky gripped the bag, and then lowered his shoulders. “Let’s just go, doll,” he lifted his free left hand to Sam’s neck, the glove rubbing the skin there gently, saying quieter, “I want to see which sprays you first, me or the sea.”

Sam gaped, glancing as Bucky winked, face turning a horrible shade of red. “You dirty dog. I’m gonna remember that city slicker talk.”

Bucky laughed. “I am a city slicker, it’s not an insult.” They started walking and he put his arm around Sam’s shoulders as Sam shook his head, unbelieving at how quickly the man could change his mood. 

“All we need is wine, pillows, and-“ Sam paused as he heard his name, and then took a sigh. Here we go.

“Sammy-Sam-Samuel,” Gideon sang out.

Sam groaned deeply.

“Dammit, pick one and leave the rest!” he snapped in a way that made Bucky raise his brows, subtly reminded that this was a sibling of the Wilsons they were dealing with. 

Sam mumbled, “Go ahead, I’ll meet you,” and he was met with concerned eyes before a blatant nod. Bucky walked forward, brow hard as Sam turned back to Gideon who wore a smug grin like an asshole who always thought he was right. “I want my damn jacket back.”

“It’s cold out here, brother.”

“You’ll manage, just like you did going under-fucking-ground. I would have liked to know you were well,” Sam grumbled, taking a step back as Gideon tried to hit him on the arm. “Don’t, I’m cool.”

Gideon raised his brows. “Cold to your own brother after saying you wish me well?”

“Only when that brother is picking fights with my boyfriend.” Sam glared, hands shoved into his pockets. He moved to the side of the boardwalk to avoid the traffic of people going about their day, being normal, not acting like assholes. Luckily, it was a nice, sunny afternoon.

Gideon ignored him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going on a date with my boyfriend.”

He exhaled through his nostrils. “I’m really trying here with you, Sammy.”

“Sam.”

“What?” 

“Call me Sam like everyone else,” he muttered, “Stop holding on to some childish figment of the past me that doesn’t exist anymore.”

Sam started to turn on his heel, hearing a low chuckle behind him that made his blood boil.

“What? You some Captain now and forget where you’re from? Who we are?”

“Boyfriend.”

Gideon shifted.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “You can’t stand it when I say that word. This is ridiculous. Are you clowning me right now?”

“Listen to me for once, Sam.”

Sam’s jaw fell, and he made a loud sound of frustration. “Gideon, no. I’ll see you if I go home. I’m not doing this today, and tomorrow is church, so definitely not then. I’m trying to have a good date with my boyfriend, and he’s looking real handsome over there waiting for you to give it a damn rest. Jesus.”

Gideon looked stunned. “You never use that name in vain, Sam.”

Sam turned on his heel, scoffing. “Did Jesus tell you to abandon Sarah while I was gone?”

No reply met him, and he used the silence to leave.

~*~

Bucky was waiting thirty feet away, relieved when Sam returned, who passed without a word. “Doll?” 

Sam turned around and smiled, winking. “Come on. Let’s go do the nasty on that boat. Piss him off real good.” Bucky laughed out loud, wrapping his hands around Sam’s shoulders again, their steps in time as Sam sighed and tried to smile.

The sun was still high as they made it to the  Paul & Darlene. Her last blue and red paint job still glimmered, making Sam pipe up a little bit as he stepped on, adjusting to the familiar buoyancy of the water. 

First, they worked in the captain's cabin to get the engine going, which went smoothly. Sam turned the wheel, watching the orange blue sky and starting to hum to the radio’s oldies station as they sailed.

“There it is,” Bucky said, eyeing him, and unpacking their picnic basket.

“What?” Sam searched the dash for something on the water.

“That beautiful smile.” Bucky leaned over and kissed him as he chuckled. “That’s what.”

Sam smiled again this time and didn't stop.

Soon, they were far in the middle of the water, not one ship around, and it felt like he’d left his problems on the dock. It was great timing that the boat had been cleaned by the last rainstorm, and Sarah’s crew hadn’t gone fishing after that. The only smell really lingering was faint, and the ocean was stronger.

Great timing, being able to even think that made Sam feel good. He checked that the anchor was secure before heading back onto the deck. Bucky sat waiting on multiple layers of picnic blankets accompanied by pillows, paper plates, the picnic basket, and a candle that let out a vanilla and oak scent. Plus, two extra insulated blankets next to him, a bottle of pinot noir. 

“You gonna do a striptease or come eat?” Bucky asked.

Sam couldn’t wipe his wide grin. He slunk over and lowered to the deck, immediately letting himself fall on top of Bucky, who laid back on the pillow and took his embrace fully.

“God, this is wonderful. I love it, baby.” Sam pushed their faces together, then took a soft bite of Bucky’s lower lip.

“Mmm.” Bucky’s stomach growled and Sam let him go with the last peck, sitting down to unwrap the basket. He licked his lips as they sorted food onto plates.

Sam was hungrier than he thought, practically moaning down every bite, eyes closed, shaking his head. He’d set the radio on with smooth jazz, even a couple of songs playing that Bucky could recognize from back in the day, and they were quiet as they ate, giving compliments to fairly tasty bites. The sunny breeze felt perfect, too, warm enough that more layers weren’t needed. Sam sighed down his last bite as Bucky cracked open the wine, which he was a personal lover of. “I feel good,” he said quietly before taking a sip.

Clinking his glass first, Bucky returned, “Me too,” and Sam drank the whole glass and lamented before letting himself lay back on the blankets. Bucky packed the leftovers into the basket, taking a slew of blankets and draping them over before he laid down and hugged Sam’s waist, sharing a pillow.

“Yep, it’s hitting me,” Sam murmured, eyes blinking as he stared up at the sky, body unable to move from how good the food was. He turned to look at Bucky instead, who leaned in and kissed him, Eartha Kitt singing to them, saying what a lovely day it is, and making his heart breathe out a sigh. Sam let the water rock him into a nap, leaving all of his worries aside just for a little.

When he opened his eyes, the sun was red, lower, which he could make out through holes in the blanket over their heads. He felt toasty with Bucky pressed against him, their socks tangling, a gentle snore coming from him. Sam smiled, watching him a little longer, placing a hand on his head and rubbing gently. Bucky tended to sleep in, but he also went to bed fairly late, usually watching Sam, having to be sure that the house was sound first before he could shut down.

Bucky finally opened his eyes and groaned, shifting the blankets as he stretched. “Morning.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s five in the afternoon-” a yelp escaped him and a laugh as Bucky yanked him close and immediately buried his lips in his neck. “What kind of power was in that nap?” 

Bucky smiled. “The kind that happy men take, knowing their boyfriends are gonna be looking delicious when they wake up.” He lifted Sam’s hand and placed a kiss on it, and then another, and then kissed Sam’s lips, and Sam moaned slightly as Bucky rolled on top of him, kisses growing a little more serious.

“Oh, Bucky.” Sam felt his face cradled in Bucky's hands as Bucky kissed under his jaw, right where he loved it, and then lowered to his chin, under his Adam’s apple, a hand rubbing over the thigh of his jeans and then palming his crotch. Sam’s lower body responded and he groaned. He pulled Bucky’s mouth back over his and then let go, lifting his hips so that Bucky could unfasten his jeans and yank them down. 

“God.” Sam let his head fall back onto the pillow, eyelids flickering as Bucky mouthed over the shape of him under his briefs before peeling them down. Bucky’s breath was hot on his head, and then he tasted him tenderly and Sam clutched his hair, gasping as he was now definitely fully awake. “Fuck.”

Bucky sucked him halfway and Sam tapped Bucky’s shoulder, managing to get out, “Baby, unless you want the ride to, uh, be out of commission… you better stop.”

With a smirk, Bucky released him and licked his lips, sitting up slightly. The blankets fell down to his shoulders as Sam caught his breath. “Plus, I want to see you,” Sam added shyly, “Since we’re both awake.”

“Honestly.” Bucky smiled, starting to remove his upper layers, shivering from the slight breeze. “I’m kind of still half-asleep. Got this dream playing in my head where I’m gonna make love to my Sam on a boat… didn’t think it’d be this chilly, though.” It had definitely grown windier after the nap.

Sam laughed. “Let’s take this show inside, I’ve got a heater.”

“Damn,” Bucky huffed, “I’m already hard.”

Sam lowered his eyes to his crotch and pursed his lips. “Baby, please. By the time I get you out of those tight ass pants, I’ll be inside already, let’s go.”

Bucky conceded, pouting and humphing as Sam wrapped his torso in a blanket, taking the wine bottle and the couple of pillows that he could carry. He crossed the deck and slid open the door to the cabin, dropping everything into the empty space, then tipping the wine bottle to his lips before plugging in the electric heater and checking the navigation board.

A few moments later, he heard a grunt, and then Bucky entered, holding everything left on the deck in his arms, squeezing through the doors before throwing most of it onto the ground with a great exhale. 

“Y-you need help?” Sam asked weakly, smiling slightly as Bucky stared at him tired, horny, thirsty, all of the above, and made grabby hands for the wine bottle. He moaned after a few gulps and sighed.

“No. I’ll set this up, you strip.”

Sam watched Bucky kneel to the floor and re-set all of the blankets like a man with a purpose, moving quickly in those tight jeans. Sam chuckled to himself, pulling his own vest and thermal shirt off, and putting their clothes into one pile. He swallowed down another few gulps and then corked the bottle, moving in the small space to help Bucky out of his jeans, which he had to wiggle extra hard to get off.

“Your dream is being ruined by not buying grownup sizes, you know that, right?” he asked, grinning.

“It’s called fashion, hun,” Bucky grunted, finally getting the pants off and then groaning loud as his half-erection was freed, which Sam’s lower half took interest in as he slid his underwear off and thanked God. “Feels so good in here.”

Bucky fell onto the bedding and sighed as Sam unpacked a water bottle, taking it to his lips before pouring a few gulps in Bucky’s mouth. Eyes followed his naked body, and Bucky palmed himself, watching with half-open eyes, already starting to rise fully again.

Sam couldn’t help the way it stirred something hot in him, understanding that they were in the middle of the damn water with no one to lower their voices for. “Come here,” and he moaned while following that command so easily, straddling Bucky and then rolling in the sheets with him, Bucky’s skin cool to the touch and starting to warm up against his own. 

Bucky landed on top of Sam and kissed his body again, their hips colliding, desperate groans escaping. Sam dragged his fingers from Bucky’s ass right up to the back of his neck, earning a half-lidded quiver. “Fuck, Jesus,” Bucky whispered out, face changing as he grinded against Sam. “Sam, I’m, ugh-”

Sam squeezed his ass in his hands and Bucky whimpered, falling limp as his body found release, a long moan escaping him after. Warm hands rubbed his back as Bucky sighed, smiling with red cheeks. “Didn’t even have to touch my dick, damn.”

“I’m that hot, remember?” Sam grinned.

Bucky groaned, voice embarrassed, “God… Sam I came in like one fucking minute.”

With a kiss to his forehead, Sam whispered, “Just wait, you’ll be coming again once we prep some.” He reached over for his bag and found lubricant, rolling Bucky over onto the blankets. He smiled up at Sam, face gentle and still in a bit of bliss.

Then he squirmed as Sam slicked him up and stroked along his length, earning a jolt. “Fuck, that’s sensitive, oh, fuck,” Bucky balled the sheets in his hands, releasing a deep breath of relief as Sam let go and lowered his hands to his sack and massaged gently. 

“Spread 'em, baby,” Sam said gently, and Bucky’s cheeks reddened again, hair messy over his forehead as he sighed, taking in the soft strokes of Sam’s fingers to his rim. Sam watched him carefully as he took a deep breath, letting out a sound as a single finger entered. 

“Kiss me,” Bucky murmured, making a pouty face, and Sam leaned forward until he was almost laying on top of him, letting their lips dance. Bucky hugged his shoulders, knees settled over his hips as the boat rocked with them ever so slightly, making Sam’s fingers feel that much more sensual. He was a good sport, too, moaning quietly and tasting the wine on Sam’s tongue, sucking his lips like they were dessert. 

Sam managed a third finger, and Bucky’s jaw was slack, mouth open, not even kissing back at this point, just sucking him in. “I think you’re good.”

“Nn, I want to be on top,” Bucky moaned, hard once again and twitching as Sam reached for the roll of condoms. “Doll,” he shook his head, “Come inside.”

Sam tilted his head with a slight smile. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

Bucky nodded his head, clutching his forearms. “Sam.”

Sam nodded back and slicked himself up, watching Bucky bite his lip and inch off the sheets slightly, chest moving up and down in heavy breaths.

Christ. To think that would be the image he’d see on his family boat. Sam almost laughed, grinning instead as he lined himself up at the entrance. A half-groan escaped Bucky in anticipation then his head fell back and his eyes rolled as Sam pushed in slowly. Sam blushed, knowing how much Bucky loved that first thrust and felt very flattered by the enthusiasm, really. He also knew how good it felt from the times Bucky topped.

Sam moved his hips slowly to gather a rhythm, bent over Bucky’s body to watch him stare at the ceiling, a little lost in it.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mmm,” Bucky clutched the sheets and whined Sam’s name, face absolutely lost in being fucked, tip dripping a little. Sam bit his lip hard, closing his eyes to keep his breath steady at that image. Not too soon, God, please. As he looked again, Bucky came back to Earth, a bit of realization in his eyes. “Doll, come on, switch with me.”

Sam smirked. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

Bucky grumbled, eyelids flickering as Sam slowed down. “Hell no, not gonna miss my ride.” And then he grunted as Sam pulled out and they switched positions, Sam laying on his back and Bucky kneeling over him, eyes a little mischievous. 

“Fuck, you are so-” Sam laughed, rubbing his face with the back of his hand. “What was that about making me cry? I’m really entertained, now-”

“Shh-” Bucky pressed a finger to his lips, prompting more giggles from Sam, and then he placed a pillow under Sam’s hips and guided Sam’s tip to his entrance, slowly lowering onto him. 

Sam didn’t mean to gasp, suddenly the one in the place of euphoria. The blankets were to goddamn blame, so soft around him, sunset red behind Bucky, beads of sweat on his brow, warmth in the room, and Sam understood how fucking good it felt to be laying there in such beauty and love. “Baby, please ride me, hurry…”

Bucky smirked, cockier now that he was on top, and he was filled completely by Sam, shivering and then rising and lowering again. This time, their moans matched, and Sam clutched his hips, thrusting up into him. Bucky’s lip quivered, and Sam started a slow thrust, to which Bucky responded by moving his own hips down harder.

“Fuck,” Sam hissed out, head falling back.

Now Bucky really smiled, mouth open, licking his lips. “You want me to make you come, Sam?” he asked as he bent forward and rolled his hips down. Sam nodded, Bucky’s hands pushing against his chest, and he held Bucky’s waist, jaw open as they collided again. 

“I can’t hear you, doll,” he huffed, leaning back, hands-free as Sam clutched his hips.

“You brat,” Sam whispered, starting to sit up and Bucky pushed him back down again, riding him as he pleased as Sam’s head fell back and a groan escaped.

“Relax, let me do it.”

“Bucky, I’m close-” Sam whispered, lids flickering, and by the jaw-dropped look on Bucky’s face, so was he. Bucky’s voice sounded like sweet music as he moaned, head back, revealing the long line of his throat. He smiled a little silly as he sprayed Sam’s stomach with his release, eyes flickering, mouth forming an ‘O’ and it stirred something deep inside Sam, wanting to come inside him so badly.

“Sam,” Bucky said softly, pausing his movements, “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise,” sounding like he meant something greater than just sex, and his eyes were filled with so much love that Sam felt himself tear up, lip quivering as he whispered his name back.

“Bucky.”

Sam broke as Bucky started to move again, a slow sob in his throat mixed with the pleasure of being brought up to the edge. “Please come for me, doll, you’re so beautiful.” Tears streaked Sam’s face as Sam released, moaning hard as he cried, shaking as Bucky took all of him. Bucky kissed the calluses on Sam’s palms. The red light shined through his hair, making him look like the sun itself as Sam followed him over into bliss.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” 

Lips touched Sam’s, muffling his words, and Bucky broke away, whispering, “I love you.” Sam gasped, feeling the tug of Bucky removing himself and then laying on top of him. “If you want to say sorry, just tell me you love me.”

Sam clutched his shoulders, hugging him tightly, every inch of their bodies molded together as if they were two halves made for one another. “I love you,” Sam whispered back, and he kept repeating it, closing his eyes as the sun finally set, still saying the words instead of I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll be strong enough. I love you. I’ll be there for you. I love you. I’ll never let you go. I love you.

~*~

Bucky smiled, stroking Sam’s hair as he lay curled up on his chest. “Wasn’t that lovely?”

Sam nodded his head, the blankets pulled up to his shoulders even though the room was well past toasty. He didn’t feel tired, just satiated, no need in his body save for feeling Bucky’s warmth and taking in his scent, his taste, every morsel of him. 

The sky was dark by the time they managed to get up, clean each other off, and kiss between getting each other dressed. Sam smiled as Bucky hugged him while he carefully steered the ship back to the dock with the guide of lights on the dock and on the water. He felt invincible.

Bzz Bzz Bzz.

Bucky started to peek in the basket at the leftover pieces of cornbread. 

Sam raised a brow, turning back to watch Bucky finger a piece into his mouth, and then Sam looked at Bucky’s jacket in the corner.

“Your phone, baby.” Bucky went, oh, rummaging for a napkin and Sam smiled. “I’ll get it.” His smile quickly faded. “Why do you have three missed calls from-” 

Bucky gave up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Raynor?”

Sam shook his head and placed the phone to his ear. “Sarah, what's wrong?”

***

Chapter 5: Revelation

Summary:

Sam makes it to the hospital

Notes:

Peep the jacket and lighting symbolism (flips hair)

CW: assumed domestic V?

“Slow down, I’m here,” Sam said into the phone carefully. 

“I tried to reach you! It’s-” She took a breath. “I’m here with AJ-“

Sam’s soul visibly left his body, eyes widening. “AJ? What the hell happened?” He tightened his grip on the phone as Bucky came closer, hand squeezing his shoulder, eyes concerned. 

“Sarah? Is he hurt?” Sam asked again, hearing static and the sound of voices, commotion in the background.

“He’s okay, Sam… I don’t even know to explain-” She took a breath. “It was allergies, I need to talk to the doctor-“

“I’m coming right now, twenty minutes, Sarah. I promise.” 

“I’m here.”

He quickly handed Bucky the phone, hands shaking and heart picking up as he scrambled for his bag. His phone was dead. Idiot. Forgetting to charge it. How long had she been trying to get to him, trying to-

“Sam.” Bucky shook his keys at him. “I’ll drive.”

Sam nodded, grabbing his jacket and the leftovers, following him out of the boat, taking his hand, then jogging down the dock to his truck. He threw his things in the back hatch and then got in.

The ride over, he couldn’t relax, seeing AJ’s face in his head, his adorable smile, bright, chipper, full of love, and he steadied his breath as Bucky eyed the road. “It’ll be okay…” Bucky said quietly, though his hands were tight on the wheel.

Bucky made it fifteen. “I’ll park, go.”

Sam gave him a weak smile and then he hopped out, rushing through the hospital’s front entrance, eyes searching until he found Cass looking uncomfortable as he sat a seat away from Gideon. Exhale. Thank God. 

“Uncle Sam!” Cass ran over to him, and he held open his arms, immediately pulling him into a tight hug, whispering, “Where’s your mom?”

Cass pointed toward the ER wing, “She’s with AJ.”

Sam nodded, taking a swallow. “Is he okay?”

Cass seemed nervous and scratched his head. “Mom said he had ana- ana fraction shock?”

Anaphylactic shock. Sam did his best not to look shaken, and he smiled calmly. “I’m sorry, were you scared?”

Gideon made a noise.

Cass hesitated, and Sam rubbed his arm. “It’s okay if you are. I was, too.” Cass nodded, eyes glossy. “Okay, I’m going to go make sure everyone’s alright-“

“Can I come?”

Sam chuckled. “You, young man, can stay here and wait for Uncle Bucky. He’s gonna need somebody to hold his hand, plus he ain’t seen you in two days.”

Cass laughed and said okay, and Sam patted his head, not making eye contact with Gideon before checking in at the front desk. The nurse, to his relief, told him that he could enter the ER ward, being listed in AJ’s emergency file.

The ward was relatively empty. There weren’t many floor nurses on, and the few who were on walked at casual paces, delivering files, none of the wide-eyed alarm reserved for when a patient was in danger. 

Sarah stood by a row of closed curtains, arms folded, nervously biting one of her nails, and then noticed him. “Sarah!”

“Shh.” She put a finger to her lips, and he quieted, taking careful steps toward the curtain before pulling it open and sighing. AJ was laying in the bed, sleeping soundly like an angel, and Sam closed his eyes tightly to keep them together. He’s okay. Thank you, God. Then he embraced Sarah as they stepped away from the bed, and he could feel her shaking. 

“I got you, tell me everything.” 

They sat down and he turned to her in his chair, holding her hands. “Okay… he was at the Browns’ house playing Mario Kart or something, nothing unusual, and then he was here. His mom said the boys ate fruit tarts, and suddenly he felt itchy, throat started,” she made a motion with her shaky hand.

“He had anaphylaxis?” Sam asked and she nodded as he rubbed her hands. “Well, they caught it in time, right? Gave him epinephrine?”

She nodded, eyes glossy. “I’ve been here over an hour just getting him tested, poor thing is tired. They think it was kiwi, but I want to be sure of everything. Sam, I- I didn’t even know, he never ate that before. Thank God Tonya was picking up Tate and saw him, took him right to the hospital, called me… but what if she wasn’t there, what if-”

Sam held her. “She was, and he’s okay. We can manage this if it’s allergies, Sarah. You’re a good mother, you’re doing your best.” Sam looked into her eyes and wiped the tears, prompting him to furrow his brow. “Is there anything else? He’s just… napping?”

A nurse walked by and gave them a gentle smile, and then he looked back at Sarah, waiting for a response.

“Sam,” she started quiet and it made his heart pick up a little. “He woke up and… it’s like he panicked, starting crying and shaking, I’d never seen him like that. He-” She met his eyes and he put his hands on her face. “It was like seeing you those times… I just-“

Sam’s mouth parted, unable to respond as she leaned against his shoulder and he held her, feeling a fear rise in himself that he didn’t know he had. “Let’s wait for discharge.” She nodded, and they waited.

“Wilson?” a doctor asked, and he stood with Sarah as the woman, dark-skinned with goddess braids, glanced at her clipboard and then nodded. “I can discharge AJ tonight. He’s looking good, very healthy.”

Sam sighed in relief, finally smiling. “That’s great.”

“Dr. Nyongo,” Sarah asked carefully, “He won’t… get so panicky again?” 

Nyongo tilted her head, brows then rising in realization. “Oh, I think his reaction wasn’t unexpected for a child waking up in,” she motioned, “All of this. It can be overstimulating.”

Sarah opened her mouth and a nurse hustled over, eyes in alarm mode as she whispered, and Dr. Nyongo nodded. “Excuse me, Wilsons, we have an emergency a few minutes out. Your discharge papers are ready, and if you have further questions, call and a nurse can direct them to me.”

“That’ll be all, thank you,” Sam said, putting his arm on Sarah’s shoulder, though the concern in her brow hadn’t left. “Let’s get him home, I’m sure he’s tired, Rah.”

Sarah conceded, eyes drifting to AJ, and then she walked over to gently wake him up… which didn’t work. Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “The boy sleeps like you, Sarah.” She rolled her eyes, tapping him gently and then he stretched and opened his eyes, smiling wide.

“Uncle Sam?” 

“Hey, sleepyhead. I’m here to rescue you from this tower from that fire-breathing dragon.”

“I ain’t no dragon.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Come on, boy, that’s been enough scaring me for one day.”

They waited for a nurse to come over with his papers, giving him a look-over, asking how he felt, and then AJ was huddled over Sam’s shoulders piggy-back as he marched to the lobby, already talking his ear off.

“-and then Tate defeated the Hulk, Uncle Sam, and I was playing as the Falcon, and I beat him!”

Sam smiled. “Really, now, you think I can take the Hulk?”

“…well, maybe in the game.”

Sarah laughed under her breath and he scoffed, and then they found Bucky sitting next to Cass and a very uncomfortable Gideon two seats from them. Cass was saying something, fingers tracing the metallic lines on his left hand, and Bucky nodded to him, face gentle, making Sam sigh and smile, feeling like a ship that found its anchor in the sea. 

“I interrupted something with y’all?” Sarah asked in that knowing tone of hers and Sam chuckled, his voice making Bucky tilt his head up, eyes searching all of them for a moment then beaming, rising from his seat with Cass.

“Uncle Bucky!” AJ shouted, starting to wiggle off of Sam’s back.

“Careful, AJ, you got band-aids,” Sam warned, kneeling to the ground to help him.

AJ ran to Bucky and he grinned, crouching down to meet him in a hug, grunting as he squeezed him tight. “Hey, strong guy, I was waiting for you. Who else is gonna beat me in the Mario of cars?”

AJ huffed, still clinging to him as he stood up, a hand at his back to support him. “It’s Mario Kart, Uncle Bucky,” Cass said in disbelief, taking his other arm, and Sam let a breath escape.

“No need to look so in love,” Sarah mumbled under her breath, a sly look, and then she stepped closer to them.

“Boys, it’s late, and we’re all going to church tomorrow. Uncle Gideon wants to hear y’all singing that catchy song from Sister Act,” Sarah said, motioning for them to stop climbing the damn super soldier.

Sam coughed back a laugh, finally noticing the annoyed look on Gideon’s face as he rose from his seat, glaring at Bucky’s back, and admittedly, looking a little cross with Sam, too. Then Sam met Bucky’s wink and he took pace by his side, a sense of ease filling him.

The boys started to walk with Sarah, both of them swinging her arms, and it was the most at peace he’d seen her all day as well.

“That ain’t the name of the song,” Gideon said to Sarah, following behind the flock, voice projecting past them.

“Well, it’s the fun one,” Sam offered, sliding his palm into Bucky’s back pocket as they walked, just being a little of an asshole knowing Gideon could see. Bucky smirked as he held in a laugh. 

“I like the fun one!” AJ quipped, and they all chuckled just a little bit, sans the eldest Wilson.

They walked Sarah to the car, and Sam gave the boys a hug goodnight as they scrunched their faces, confused. He couldn’t blame them. 

“Aren’t you and Uncle Bucky coming?”

“Not today, kiddos,” Bucky said, a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “I’ve gotta go fight crime with your uncle, keep the streets safe.”

AJ laughed. “Like Batman?”

Cass shook his head. “He can’t be Batman and Captain America’s sidekick, AJ.”

Bucky smiled off the pain of sidekick.

AJ rolled his eyes back. “Uncle Bucky’s not a sidekick, Cass, he’s Uncle Sam’s boyfriend. That means he’s a superhero, too. He said he beat the Hulk.”

Sam gave Bucky a really? look as he held in his laughs, some of them getting out. 

“Alright, boys, I’m gonna get a headache if you don’t use your inside voices.” Sarah shook her head. “You’ll see your uncles again, now put them seatbelts on.”

Cass and AJ groaned as Bucky closed the door behind them, giving a slight wave, telling Sarah to drive safe. 

“Ain’t you going with them?” Sam raised a brow at Gideon. Sarah leaned her head to see out the passenger window. 

“I’m gonna stay back, Sal,” Gideon said, which was a surprise to both Sam and Bucky.

Sarah pursed her lips. “You better remember what I said. Outside, not in.” And then she rolled the windows up before they could reply, looking like she was muttering more about their damn goofy asses as the car turned down the road.

Sam waved bye to the boys in the back windshield and sighed. Bucky had taken his hand, squinting at Gideon in the dimness under the street lights.

~*~

Sam asked, “Are we gonna fight, or what? Cause I’m not sitting this one out if you think I’m gonna let you attack my man.”

Gideon glared at him. “We should talk, Sam-“

Sam exhaled while Bucky squeezed his hand, motioning to where he’d parked the truck across the lot. They started to walk and Gideon continued on his other side, brow furrowed. Sam glanced at Bucky, who seemed in a perfectly pleasant mood. 

“I meant alone,” Gideon said as they arrived.

Bucky didn’t let his hand go.

Sam shook his head. “You’ll have to earn that trust back with me. I’m still upset.”

Gideon scoffed. “You, Sarah, and these damn grudges. Forgive as the Lord forgave you,” he said in a clear voice, reminding Sam of the days they’d be in congregation growing up, seeing Gideon recite the pastor’s words in line with him from the stands as if he were the one saying it. 

Sam? Bucky asked with his eyes as Sam shrugged off the memories and let go of his hand, nodding to him. “Can you start the truck, baby?”

Bucky didn’t look happy about it, but he agreed and slunk past them, watched for a moment before Sam unlatched the pickup hatch and hoisted himself into the back, patting next to him. The engine roared to life, and Gideon raised a brow as the driver’s seat window rolled down.

“Seriously?”

Sam smiled. “It gets stuffy in there. Sit your ass down, big brother.” He reached back for an open case of beers and handed one to Gideon, who eyed him and shook his head. Sam shrugged and put it back, reaching into the basket to uncork the pinot noir.

“You gonna drink right in front of an ordained man?” Gideon asked as he climbed next to him, the truck creaking from his weight.

“Like you never thrown a couple back before.” Sam scoffed before tilting the bottle, smacking his tongue to the roof of his mouth from the bitter comfort. “And your jokes are still shit.”

A few people were leaving the parking lot to their cars, but it was otherwise silent and desolate, the road empty, bugs buzzing and crickets chirping. 

Gideon sat shoulder to shoulder with him, face in that thinking scowl. “You pray anymore?”

“If you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, as the Lord in heaven will forgive you,” Sam whispered, staring at nothing. “You can’t just remember the parts that you like.”

“Then you remember Leviticus?” Gideon asked as Sam took another gulp. “Thou shall not lie with-“

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Sam!” Gideon's jaw fell open, and it was silent for a moment before Sam heard the shift of weight in the front seat. 

“I know goddamn Leviticus and Corinthians,” he sighed, “You think I didn’t read any of that and wonder what’s wrong with me? Like I didn’t suffer before I could accept who I am?”

Gideon made that scowl again.

Sam sighed, leaning on his shoulder, his energy for the day spent, though, some of that was Bucky’s doing. 

“I remember you liking women, Sam.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, “The ones with red hair who can beat me in a match and drive a motorcycle into an exploding truck. You know, Natasha Romanoff did that. She once threw my back out sparring, and I never felt love like that.” He didn’t meet Gideon’s hopeful look. “The love of friendship, of knowing you can rely on someone. I love Leila for being my best friend growing up. Women are part of my family. But the way I love Bucky.” Sam placed a hand on his chest. “He’s part of me.”

Gideon was silent, and then took a great exhale. “Think of the boys, the example you’re setting for them, Sammy.” He paused. “Sam.”

“I have. They’re free to think for themselves, but I’ll never let them feel like there’s anything wrong with them for just being. They know they’ll always have me no matter who they love.” He started to raise the bottle again, muttering, “I wish I could say the same for you-“

“That ain’t true,” Gideon growled, prompting him to pause, turning his head with a raised brow. “I’ll always have your back, Sam. I’m your brother.”

“You hate me…” Sam struggled. “Because I’m gay.”

Gideon shook his head. “I hate the sin, not the sinner,” and Sam laughed hard, like it was funny because it had to be, it had to be. “You think it didn’t bother me, seeing rumors about you? Calling you a flying fairy?”

Sam tightened his grip on the bottle. “And what- you saw that and marched your ass from the gutter right back down to Louisiana? Thought you could come on a crusade and fix me?” 

Gideon started, and Sam pushed off the truck, turning on him. 

“Matter of fact, why the hell are you here? I don’t see shit in the bible that says run out on your damn family when they need you then show up harassing them.”

Gideon scoffed.

“What?”

“That ain’t exactly what you did? Disappear playing chase with some white boy when Sarah and I were here. You think she didn’t ever curse your name? I told her to forgive and be patient, Sam, and you wanted to go after some missing psycho ain’t tryna be found.”

Sam’s eyes flitted back and forth. “How would-“ His hands felt like ice, thinking, you even know that? and he scrolled his brain, looking for clues. 

“I’ve always put my family first, Sam, even if you can’t see that. I’ve always protected you.”

Bucky met his confused look in the driver’s mirror, and Sam shook his head. “Gid, where did you go during the blip? You were retired from service, you could do everything Godly you wanted. Did you leave because of JJ?”

“Don’t say that name.”

Sam swallowed. “I’m sorry.” And to boot, meaning it. “He was my nephew, too.” A sigh escaped him. “I can’t fill the blanks, Gid. You walk out for years and suddenly you know classified information that sure as hell wasn’t in the leaks. The only thing you can know about Bucky is that his past isn’t his fault. How could you call him a mutant? That ain’t even accurate, man.”

“He's enhanced, they’re all the same.”

“And? So the hell is Steve, Banner-“ Sam didn’t miss the way he flinched. “Parker, Strange, they all want to help people. The jury’s still out on Deadpool…”

Sam could see Bucky’s shoulders shift in a chuckle. 

Gideon glared as the lamppost flickered and lit half his face with a shadow. “If you stay with him, he’ll take everything from you, Sam. They all do.”

The truck creaked as he pushed to stand, starting to walk away. “Hey-“ Sam put down the wine and followed. “We’re not done-“ He grabbed Gideon’s shoulder and Gideon smacked his hand away. Maybe it was the wine, but it pissed Sam off, feeling the sting disappear. “Gid.”

Gideon smirked. “Surely, you’re not giving your brother that kind of look.”

“I said we’re not done.”

“For now, we are.”

Sam threw the first punch, and Gideon backed up as it brushed off his - no, Sam’s - jacket, then grabbing Sam and pulling him into a chokehold. 

The car door slammed closed and Bucky hissed, “Sam!” as he struggled against his brother’s strength, looking for an opening.

“Stay the hell out of this, Bucky!” Sam muttered, burrowing his feet in the asphalt and then flipping Gideon to the ground, earning a surprised look from his brother. 

Bucky stood jaw parted, slightly turned on if anyone were to check. “Ah - okay, doll.” 

Gideon laughed as Sam wrestled him to the ground. “You use those moves fighting in that little job-“ He spit as Sam punched him square in the jaw, and it might have been the first time in decades that he ever did. “That’s for fighting with my boyfriend.” Sam hit him again. “And that’s for calling me a fucking fairy, you asshole!”

Sam started to get up and Gideon pulled him back down, rolling with him on the ground, donning a very pissed-off look. A grunt escaped Sam as he took a hard hit to the cheek. “You struck first,” Gideon growled, pulling Sam to his feet, lifting him an inch into the air, “Don’t be mad if I return it, brother, the Lord says-“

Sam kneed him and his face changed, and bless the Godly man, he kept it together, still breathing as Sam almost felt bad - almost - before using one of his Natasha-esque moves. “Black Widow calls that one the nutcracker.”

Bucky laughed out loud, choking a little on the wine, and Sam looked at him fondly, hanging two or three inches in the air by his jacket now. “You like that, babe?”

He nodded. “Looking good, doll.”

“Gid.” Sam smiled back at his brother, almost sinister with the words. “Did I mention that we fucked real good on that boat? For hours, really. Yo ho ho-“

Gideon threw Sam and he half-expected the move, but he didn’t expect to fly almost fifteen feet into the grass field next to the hospital, eating shit, slamming into the dirt. The impact made him heave as his brother followed, now looking thoroughly pissed, even without the lights of the street lamps. Only the moon shined on them now.

Bucky stood, fists tight, and Sam raised a hand toward him as he started to approach Gideon. “I- I got this. Didn’t know he was eating his damn Wheaties, though.” He coughed once, spitting a little blood, then stepped back to get his bearings as Gideon glared.

“There he is, Sergeant Gideon.” Sam grinned, more alert now. “The real you under all that holier than thou shit. Honorable soldier, dog like the rest of us.”

“You’re leaving me no choice, Sammy. The Lord can call to action as well.”

Sam didn’t give the Lord a chance, running at him, seeing how the man wasn’t rusty after honorable discharge - he smiled - but he hadn’t been sparring for months with a widow to be taken down that easily. Gideon couldn’t intercept Sam before he’d flipped over his body and twisted his torso, using gravity to take the larger man down to the ground. Now look who was eating fucking grass. Sam started to smirk as Gideon grabbed him, scrambling to his feet, lifting him in the air again, a hand around his neck. Hell no, Sam grumbled, taken aback by the strength, but he used it to hoist himself up and locked his legs around Gideon’s elbow, breaking free before he saw stars, gasping out.

“W-were you trying to fucking kill me?” Sam choked out, staring up at him, his face a shadow with the backlight of the moon. Gideon suddenly tackled Sam again, which he was less ready for this time and he felt like he was tussling with a stranger. What the fuck-

There was the sound of dirt kicking up and then Bucky’s left arm flashed into view, and he yanked Gideon off of him.

“Bucky, I said-“

“Sam.”

Sam shut his mouth, glaring at each other, and then Gideon threw a punch at Bucky that he caught, left arm moving back an inch. What? Sam had to rewind that. Gideon was fighting Bucky, and Bucky looked serious, blocking his blows, even dodging them. 

“Gideon,” Sam whispered, and a sorrowful feeling flooded through him. “Gideon!”

He suddenly stopped and turned to look at Sam, the moon beaming light over his bald head, bearded mouth parted. “Sammy?”

Sam’s eyes were wide, sitting upright.

“Did he do this?” Gideon hissed at Bucky, who looked very stunned himself.

Sam shook his head. 

Gideon paused, and then blinked as if coming back to reality, staring at his own hands and then at Sam, voice deep, “I didn’t mean to fight with you, brother.”

“Gid, what happened to you?” Sam pleaded. “You’re different.”

Bucky hesitated. “He’s enhanced-“

“Don’t try and tell me what I am-“ Gideon hissed, taking a step toward him. “I’m not like you, some assassin, killing innocents.”

Bucky tightened.

“Stop!” Sam snapped. “No more fighting- We’re done- We need to talk.”

Gideon shook his head, dusting himself off. “There’s nothing to talk about, Sam. I can only pray you’ll come around. Hopefully, I’ll see you in church. You’re always welcome in His house, after all.”

Sam stared in shock at Gideon’s back, seeing a rip in the brown jacket as he left into the parking lot and then started down the road. He couldn’t look away, even while Bucky kneeled and touched him gently, trying to feel if he was hurt anywhere, whispering things unheard.

Sam finally turned to him. “Buck…”

“I’m guessing he wasn’t always like that.”

Sam shook his head. “An asshole, yeah.”

“Enhanced?”

“No…”

“Are you hurt? I mean, we are still at a hospital,” Bucky mumbled, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh as he used Bucky’s shoulder to stand, and pulled him into an embrace.

“God, that was so hot,” Bucky whispered, hands tight around his waist, “You never fight me like that.”

Sam laughed, breath on his face, the moon watching over them lovingly. “I picked up a couple of things from Nat, never got to practice since I’m always in the suit.”

Bucky mmm’d, “Practice on me,” and he didn’t give Sam a chance to laugh before kissing him, lifting him an inch into the air, fireflies sparkling around them, witnessing their love.

~*~

Being at the hospital did make it efficient to pick up some gauze, and supplies, but Sam sat inside the ER on a bed anyway, feeling stupid with Bucky pressing an ice pack to his cheek tenderly as Dr. Nyongo stared at Sam, concerned. He wasn’t banged up too badly but did need a small stitch on his love handle from when he’d fallen. The adrenaline, and being a little tipsy, had distracted from it. Otherwise, it was just adding ointment to bruises and receiving electrolytes. He looked worse than he was… on the outside.

“Could I have you sign some forms privately, Mr. Wilson?” she asked, and Sam nodded.

Bucky sighed, giving him the ice pack and a kiss on his hand before going to wait. Dr. Nyongo smiled at him, watching as a nurse waved Bucky over to the front desk, also smiling. The smiles were a little weird. 

Nyongo spoke once he was out of earshot for a normal man. “Mr. Wilson, you come back in here bruised up with… your partner at this hour. I’m concerned. If you need assistance, this is a safe place to seek it.”

Sam winced, knowing Bucky could hear well. But he wouldn’t say that. 

“I-“ Sam smiled awkwardly. “Again, doc, was training, running some simulations, and fell… a lot of times.” 

Nyongo sighed. “I can document anything you tell me, and it can stay on record, even if you don’t want to report with the authorities.”

Sam sighed as well. “Doc, I’m not being abused by my boyfriend. I know how this looks, but you know who I am.”

“That doesn’t invalidate anything that might be going on that you’re afraid to say.”

He paused, taken aback by the truth of that. Were doctors always so caring? “Dr. Nyongo, honestly… I’m busted up because of superhero stuff.” Granted, super-fighting his brother, but still. She raised her brows. 

“I love that man and he wouldn’t hurt me?” he offered. 

She sat next to him. “Believe me, I’ve heard that one the most.”

Sam frowned. “Thank you for asking, seriously. Not many would look at me and think to even ask. I hope you haven’t had to do this often for anyone for that matter.”

Nyongo smiled and then sighed, giving him his shirt.

“Could… I ask you something else?” Sam rubbed his head. “It’s kind of personal. But I’m sure you’ve already seen my file… and you treated my nephew.” She nodded slowly.

“I have,” Sam hesitated, “Fuck, this is hard.”

She was patient and he exhaled. “Sarah, his mother, says AJ had what I presume was a bad panic attack… when he woke up.”

“Ah, she did ask-“ 

“I have severe panic attacks, doc. Not usually life-threatening, but the kind that a mother wouldn't want her son to inherit from his uncle… and my TT - I mean aunt - also had it.” Nyongo’s brows dove, nodding. “Is it possible that he could-?”

“Mr. Wilson, I’ve seen many mental health emergencies in my specialty, and your nephew’s wasn’t on the level that you might think. Children rightfully don’t always respond the best to a new situation that’s frightening for them. I can’t predict what a person may develop-“

“Of course.”

Nyongo smiled. “But consider that your background is a lot of high-stress work. You are a veteran on top of,” she motioned. The obvious, being Cap. Sam nodded. “If you worry and he has other ‘signs’ that concern you, I’d advise working with a child clinician and therapist on coping skills. I think therapy is great for everyone to start young. Imagine if we had these resources at ten.”

Sam smiled. “Might’ve taken the edge off.”

“You’re telling me.” She chuckled, voice gentle again, “We can’t control how loaded we are, but therapy and preventative care helps. I’d advise seeing someone yourself.”

“Oh, I do,” Sam replied.

“Recently?”

“Well…”

Nyongo raised a brow, smiling. “If it keeps you out of my ER looking like a fight club, I’m willing to prescribe you going back.”

Sam laughed with her again, and then he was let free, fully dressed and feeling better. Bucky waited for him at the entrance with his jacket, putting it onto his shoulders before they left together, the ambient sounds of wildlife in the air.

“You hear all that?”

“Yep…”

They were silent as they went to the truck, Bucky closing the hatch and bringing Sam the wine in the passenger’s seat, which he took another sip of, then pressing the cool bottle to his face. Sam broke into an awkward laugh first and Bucky smiled a little pained. 

“God, let’s go home, baby.”

Bucky started up the engine. “For the record, when I said fight me, I didn’t mean…”

“Relax, we can use a safe word when my legs are around your neck.”

“Jesus.” He moaned in his mouth, a hand behind Sam’s head as he backed out of the spot. “Can’t fucking wait.”

Sam laughed again and then heaved. “Oh fuck, I almost busted my stitches.”

“Wait.” Bucky’s face changed, stopping at the entrance and then turning onto the road. “Does that mean we can’t have sex?”

Sam paused. “Shit, she did say nothing strenuous for forty-eight hours.”

Bucky’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I hate him, Sam. This is the worst weekend ever.”

“Please, you’ll find a way around it.”

“Worst!”

Sam laughed out loud, holding his side again, whooping instead. His voice echoed out of the window as they sped down the long road, letting the wind kiss away the tears at the brim of his lashes.

***

Chapter 6: Confession 📷

Summary:

Sam attends church

Explicit

Sam was right about them finding a way to fool around. First, he’d just woken up, oddly sore, grumbling that he should’ve limbered up first before tussling, as Sarah called it. And she did call it, let the record show.

He sighed, feeling the disrespectfulness of his body working against him, not wanting to heal overnight as it used to when he was younger.

A good run would probably work out most of the kinks, though, and even if he’d preferred to be up earlier, running at 7AM was better than not at all. It was quiet in the room, other than the sounds of the fan oscillating and the stillness of morning.

Bucky moaned, rolling over onto him, hand laying over his stomach, eyes still closed. “Doll, it’s too early…” he mumbled. Sam wiggled himself out of bed anyway as Bucky grumbled, stirring on the sheets in a little tantrum. 

“Um, I didn’t say you have to come run, baby.” Sam raised a brow. 

In fact, he fully expected Bucky not to. Bucky glared now, red-eyed and tired, looking like the complete opposite of a morning person as Sam peeled off his t-shirt carefully, checking the bruises on his back in the mirror. They were darkening, but nothing a couple nights of rest and AJ’s half-and-half couldn’t handle, maybe a lavender soak, too. 

“If you stay, I’ll-” Bucky pointed a finger down and winked.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You are not holding my dick getting sucked over me.” He shook his head in disbelief, peeling off his underwear as Bucky shifted, somehow managing to look both sleepy and turned on.

“Behave and maybe we can make use of that water pressure right after, sexy.” He winked, making a show of trailing his hands down his front as Bucky bit both lips and groaned in his mouth, the tent in briefs rising a little higher. 

“Sam, wait,” Bucky called out firmly as he entered the bathroom, “You’re going to go running, thighs out, with your neck starting to bruise on a holy day?”

“My neck is fine.“ Sam scoffed, turning on the bright bathroom light, wide-eyed as he met slightly red ugly marks. He shouted, “What the hell! Now my damn run is hijacked!”

Sam returned with a frustrated look to find Bucky in bed completely naked and palming himself, looking very handsome, of course, Mr. I heal overnight. “Seriously, doll, someone’s gonna think I’m mistreating you, or worse, that you like it. Tomorrow's tabloid: Captain America, a kinky little slut.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but slank over to the bed, sliding onto Bucky’s lap, the bit of full-contact pressure on his erection making him shudder. “Great, I’m gonna be kink-shamed before I even get the chance to see if I like it. Christmas didn’t count, by the way.”

Bucky smiled, remembering as he rubbed Sam’s hips softly. Sam exhaled, looking defeated. Bucky traced his thumb over the white bandage, his other hand rubbing Sam’s ass, then stroking over warm thighs as he thought. “Do you want me to- you know-“ he wiggled his brows and let the words stretch, receiving a squint.

Without warning, Bucky gave him a slap on the rump, leaving a sting, earning a gasp.

“Wha-” Sam huffed. “Fresh out of the hospital!?”

“I’m just…” Bucky mumbled, face forming a flushed scowl. “...I don’t want us to stop,” eyes serious before he added, “and ’m horny?”

“Doctor’s orders, hun,” Sam shook his head, smiling and moving his hips slowly, “God forbid I don’t fuck your brains out for one more day.”

“Exactly,” Bucky groaned, lower half heating up. “I might die if you don’t. It was so good, and now we’re on bed arrest.” He rolled his hips up and they both let out a jaw-dropped moan, quietly colliding for a few seconds. Sam’s hands rested on the crease of his waist.

“Fine,” Sam huffed, hard against him, catching his breath. “I don’t mind a little spice…” He left the insinuation in the air as Bucky’s mouth remained parted, eyes rich with want. “Low intensity?”

Bucky nodded before Sam moved his hips a little harder, making Bucky bite his lower lip and let out a guttural groan. Sam’s hands rubbed along his chest, pushing into his muscles, then brushing his nipples. “Doll, geez.”

Sam smiled, marveling at how quickly his man could unravel, and he leaned down, face close as he whispered, “What do you want me to do to you, Sergeant Barnes?”

Those words received an open-mouthed moan. “Jesus, to hear that every morning.” Sam slowed his movements, tilting his head to the side as Bucky’s cheeks flushed. Then Bucky rolled over on top and their lips crashing together as he kissed Sam feverishly. 

“Mmm, slow down,” Sam moaned into Bucky’s mouth. He rubbing Bucky’s shoulders gently as Bucky slowed the kisses, tasting Sam’s lips. Then his hips were flush against Sam’s, pressing their erections. “Umh-”

Bucky broke away with a huff, their eyes locked. He looked away only to glance over Sam’s neck, exhaling as he traced the tender marks with the tip of his fingers. He started to move his hand away and Sam stopped him, meeting his curious eyes.

Sam placed a hand over his, saying softly, “It’s okay,” and he kissed Bucky’s hand, half-closing his eyes.

“Sam…”

“Show me how good it can feel,” he murmured.

Bucky’s eyes glossed before he moved his hand, biting both lips, and then lowered it to Sam’s clavicle.

Sam swallowed, taking a deep breath as Bucky kissed him once, hand still there. And then Sam scrunched his face. “Am I supposed to be able to breathe?”

“I don’t wanna asphyxiate you,” Bucky mumbled, and Sam made a quiet, oh. Bucky sighed and smiled at his expression, pushing Sam’s thighs open and lying flush against him again. “Is it just about control?”

Sam bit his lip then nodded. He felt a little embarrassed but leaned up to kiss Bucky anyway.

Bucky pushed back down.

Um, baby? Sam asked with his eyes, sitting up again.

Bucky pressed on his collar again, and he didn’t mean to fucking moan, suddenly realizing how quickly the control was taken from him.

Oh, okay.

Sam swallowed as Bucky shot him piercing blue eyes and whispered, “Stay.” He moved his hips slow, holding Sam before bringing their lips closer. 

Hot pleasure rippled through Sam as he moaned, feeling Bucky’s breath but unable to kiss him as they grinded. He slowly trailed his hands on Bucky’s unmoving wrist, biting his lip as Bucky watched him carefully. He shivered.

Sam tried to move a little faster, and Bucky kept him still, forcing a sigh. “Bucky.”

Bucky didn’t let up, still eyeing Sam silently, only lowering to lick Sam’s open mouth as he fucked against him heavy and slow. Sam squinted as the sensation of heat found him gradually, jerking slightly, and then falling limp. Bucky followed him with a groan, coming on his stomach. They watched each other and then kissed.

~*~

“That was different,” Sam mumbled, standing at the bathroom mirror, toweling off pats of water dripping from his neck. Bucky made a sound of agreement, rubbing a pomade in his hands and then massaging it into Sam’s hair.

Sam brushed his teeth.

“Kinda liked it,” he added, mouth full of toothpaste.

Bucky smiled, taking a boar bristle brush and then brushing Sam’s short cut, angling his head around to make sure he got the edges and the back.

“Yeah, baby,” Sam grinned, “Get in that kitchen.”

Bucky chuckled, stopping his motion so that Sam could gargle mouthwash and rinse. He watched as Sam hummed and muttered to himself about his goatee. “I should clean up the sides.”

“I’m gonna make breakfast,” Bucky said and then gave him a kiss.

“You sure?” Sam raised a brow. “I can get it started, Dracula.”

Bucky pouted. “Can’t sleep unless it’s with you.”

“Bullshit, lay down.” Sam rolled his eyes, both of them sitting with that dose of lies as Bucky conceded and crawled right back into bed. He smelled like Sam’s body wash. 

Thankfully, he dried his hair. Sam could only be horrified by Bucky climbing into bed with a soggy head but so many times. A chuckle escaped as Sam turned back to the sink, spreading shaving cream before he cleaned up America’s goatee.

Once he’d freshened up fully, he met the sleeping visage of Bucky and smiled, admitting quietly that it was nice to wake up with him alone like it was their own private oasis. Having Bucky stay at the house with him was nice, but the cottage made him wonder if he should move out. Bucky had never pushed it… he loved the kids and Sarah, but they were a couple, and there were some things Sam knew he wanted to keep to himself, like that cute bed hair and horny morning eyes. 

The cottage had a master bedroom with a large bed, mirror, bench, and dresser. Connected to the room was a bathroom with a double sink and a large shower that they both could stand in comfortably. It had great water pressure and even a mirror; hell, two faucets that came in handy.

Outside the bedroom was an open kitchen and breakfast table overlooking a sitting area and flat-screen television. The place definitely had a lover’s getaway vibe to it. 

Sam sighed as he got started on waffles and eggs mixed with a bit of the leftover greens. 

Alright… 

Say he did get a house with Bucky, nothing fancy, a cute little cottage, it’s not like he could find one this close, right? 

The nice part of living at home was that he didn’t have to worry about his family. Even if he was on a mission or some long, tedious publicity trip, he could reset by making breakfast for Sarah and the boys. Mornings he came back left a sense of gentleness in his heart as they talked their Uncle Bucky’s ear off, Sam watching the smile on Bucky’s face like he never got tired of it. 

How could he want more than that? It felt a little greedy.

That was before Gideon.

Sam exhaled, flipping through a grocery catalog that they had picked up before going to the restaurant. There were a couple of items circled in Bucky’s handwriting. 

“Mmmmm,” Bucky made a loud yawn, standing in the doorway. “You think the plums are too expensive, right? I thought in-season is supposed to be cheaper.”

Sam smiled, flipping the booklet closed. “If you’re comparing everything to the forties, it’s all expensive, baby.” He took Bucky’s chin, guiding him into a brief kiss, then letting go.

Bucky picked up the burnt waffle edges on Sam’s plate, crunching on them with annoyed eyes. “Doll, you can’t just waste food.” 

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Should have woke me,” Bucky munched, eyeing the clock, “We’re gonna be the late gay uncles.”

“Better put on your Sunday best then,” Sam said, giving him a smack on the butt as he stuffed bits of eggs into his mouth straight from the pan.

~*~

They didn’t wear their Sunday best, and frankly, Sam never did. He thought he dressed pretty well for a man, but he’d scrolled a blog late one night where someone had posted pictures of him in his streetwear, usually caught by the press in New York or DC. One particular post was the blogger speculating if the rumors about #NewCap were just queerbaiting, citing the variation of dad jeans he wore. 

Sam had never confirmed them, not publicly, but it bothered him once and he asked Sarah with puppy eyes, “Do I dress homophobic or something?” She laughed for a solid three minutes, still choking on sweet tea when the boys and Bucky came in after playing, looking confused. That secret conversation stayed between them.

“No helping it, we’ll be late,” Bucky sighed, right hand on the wheel with his wristwatch, the other resting outside of the window Sam thought he looked awfully good in his long sleeve henley and sleek jeans. His hair was messy when he’d woken up, and he threw a cap over it. Sam had a harder time getting dressed, given the random items he’d grabbed from home, the fact that all of their clothes were thrown together in a trunk at the foot of the bed, and the need to cover up his neck. An orange polo and jeans were his comfort choice, and then Bucky dug and found a beige scarf to throw around him.

“They’ll be too distracted by how stupid I look,” he mumbled, adjusting the scarf in the mirror again, then he narrowed his eyes at Bucky. “The fact that you’re not denying it says everything.”

Bucky smiled weakly.

~*~

The second reading was being delivered when Sam entered, prompting heads to turn and look at him, then calmly turn back to the lector. Sarah rolled her eyes, pushing AJ’s head forward as he smiled and waved. Gideon sat next to them and he hadn’t turned around.

Sam decided to sit on the opposite side that he usually did, Bucky following him as he found a sparse area in the corner near Tommy and his family. Tommy nodded his head as the lector spoke, but Sam smiled realizing the older man’s eyes were closed even as he clapped along with others at a few notable lines.

Sam squeezed into two rows behind them, sitting next to a man who might have been in his thirties, but Sam didn’t recognize him. He seemed to blend in with the family, save for his outfit being flashier, and the streaks of red dye in his hair. Sam greeted him and didn’t hear anything back as he sat down.

Bucky exhaled, taking a bible from the back of the seat and flipping it open to follow along, or at least look like he was. Sam would never admit it, but it made for convenience that they were late every single time and didn’t have to sit through the snooze part of church. He sighed and leaned against Bucky’s left shoulder, coolly slipping his hand in his and squeezing it, their thighs touching slightly. 

The man next to him stared at their hands, and Sam started to casually let go as the man smiled. “Terrance.”

“Sam.”

Tonya shushed them, and Sam smiled.

“You related to Tonya and Tommy?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Terrance whispered back, “Second Cousin. I live in New Orleans-”

“Bout an hour out.”

“Yeah, and nice outfit.”

“Thanks.” Sam brushed Bucky’s foot with his ankle as Bucky smirked. 

Shhh. Tonya glared back, and then she raised her phone as the choir stood. Sam and Bucky beamed, standing so that they could see Cass sing Thank You, Jesus and Say Yes, standing next to Tate. Sam made a note to get in Sarah’s good graces so that she could get the video from Tonya and send it to him.

When Jesus says, “Yes,” nobody can say no!

When Jesus says, “Yes,” nobody can say no!

Watching Cass sing his favorite numbers put Sam in a good mood. The pastor delivered his final sermon, the subject being forgiveness and grace for loved ones, to which of course he told the crowd that he loved all of them, and they said Amen. One older woman shouted that she loved him back.

Sam listened, holding tight to Bucky’s hand as his mind drifted. How quick he’d been to throw the first punch the prior night… Should he have listened and heard Gideon out, after all? No, his mind decided. Listening and being harassed were two different things, but he didn’t know that Gideon was… different. 

What happened for him to suddenly be an enhanced person? Sam knew from the aftermath of the Accords - and even before - that people with that label had a harder time traveling, existing, being. There was prejudice at the borders, and they had to disclose personal information about themselves, but if they didn’t, they risked being basically frisked by the government. Even traveling with Bucky, on personal and not business, sometimes they’d have to wait longer for the system to log him as safe.

Sam’s heart ached as the choir stood to sing Amazing Grace, inviting the people to flip open their booklets and sing along.

Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,

  That saved a wretch; like me!

I once was lost, but now am found,

  Was blind, but now I see.

Bucky stood, and Sam sat lost as he suddenly felt so out of place.

Everyone seated and the pastor announced that he was in a great mood, throwing his hands up in the air, pointing at the cross behind him.

“Now, my blessed people,” the pastor said, holding his fist to his chest, showing them just how much Jesus flowed through his veins, “A man very special in my heart approached me today, compelling beautiful words, Amen.”

The crowd returned an Amen.

“His story-” the pastor’s voice broke, “His story touched me so deeply, and the Holy Spirit came through me when I spoke with the son of our late brother and minister Paul Wilson, brother Gideon, who’s been serving as a vessel of the Merciful Lord in his many years, even while being away from us all, and carrying on in his heart, a legacy. I would like to invite him to share his confession.”

Sam didn’t blink as the people clapped and Gideon rose from his seat, wearing his Sunday best like it were skin, smiling and nodding to those around him as he took great steps to the podium. He looked a little different, face fully shaved. Sarah glanced back in her seat, raising an eyebrow at Sam, and he shook his head, seeing that she had no idea what the hell was going on, either.

“Good Morning,” Gideon said, and everyone returned it, glumly Sam and Bucky. He spoke a few choice verses, no bible in his hand needed, and then he admitted to having a confession. Sam felt his chest tighten, glaring hard at him as he smiled.

Bucky tightened his hand over Sam’s knee, making Sam realize it was bouncing, and he tapped his foot silently instead, heart picking up.

“It’s been years since I laid my eyes upon this city where my parents, Paul and Darlene, grew up and raised me, rest their souls in the house of heaven.” The people returned rest their souls. “I’ve always been a man of God, of my word, Amen, but recently I sinned like nobody’s business, having the devil’s nerve to fight with my own brother. I didn’t know whether to be more proud of the strength God gave him to throw a hit worthy of protecting those he loves, or hate the devil for separating us, guiding us to use these precious hands to destroy. I prayed on it, and He told me to forgive my brother here and now, to inspire others to forgive.”

Sam tightened, feeling a few heads glance his way, and his breath felt unsteady. Breathe, he reminded himself, and Bucky whispered it once as well, just quiet enough that he could hear it, though Bucky looked just as surprised.

Gideon continued to speak, and Sam was locked onto him, waiting for him to tell everyone the truth, that he hated Sam for who he loved. To tell them he didn’t listen to a damn thing his younger brother said, instead, willing to stand up there and play Jesus on a stake.

Sam breathed hard, changing his mind, feeling so much anger rise in him.

“Sam,” Gideon finally said, staring straight at him, and everyone looked. “Would you be willing to receive my confession with the grace that He has bestowed upon you?”

Sam heard a few sniffs in the room, people crying and looking at him with compassionate eyes, and he felt sick to his stomach. No, he started to whisper, hell no, and Bucky looked down at his book, saying quietly, “Boys.”

Widening his eyes, Sam slowly rose, squeezing out of the rows and he slowly walked toward Gideon, feeling one of his fists tighten.

“Uncle Sam!” AJ whispered, waving, and Sarah shushed him, eyes careful as she watched Sam.

Exhale. He loosened his grip, and made it to the carpeted stage, stepping on and then turning around as he met teary eyes in the crowd, faces smiling as if they’d never seen something so good, holy, and pure.

Sam held his hand out and took the microphone from Gideon, who smiled, looking eerily like his real brother. It shook, and then he swallowed, steadying his hand, saying, “Thank you.” And the townsfolk clapped for him, bringing a tear to his eye as he tried to smile back at them, meeting Bucky’s upturned brow and wide eyes. “I receive it, brother, I hear you.”

Gideon beamed as more applause met them, one man bursting into tears, thanking God.

He handed back the microphone, forcing every cell in his body not to hit Gideon, to be patient, patient, patient, and give him some semblance of an embrace as the pianist started a heartfelt few chords that ripped through his soul, and then the chorus stood and sang, 

Oh Happy Day, Oh Happy Day,

When Jesus Walks, When Jesus Walks

Sam almost laughed, pulling Gideon closer, a teary smile on his face. He whispered, quiet enough just for him to hear, “I’ll never ever forgive you.” Sam let Gideon go, who looked shaken and surprised, and he walked back through the crowd, taking pats on the back and handshakes with grace. 

Sarah was silent, even though AJ was enjoying himself, too innocent to know what was going on. Sam just shook his head at her and then made it to his seat with Bucky, knowing he’d heard him. 

“Do you want to leave?” Bucky whispered.

Sam shook his head, taking Bucky’s arm around his shoulders and holding his right hand as they sat, not caring who saw. After all, he’d just publicly forgiven his own brother for wronging him in a way he could never imagine. Surely, they could disregard his relationship. 

~*~

“And then Uncle Sam went up to the stage and he hugged Uncle Gideon and now they’re happy again!” AJ said, making an animated gesture as Cass took a great sigh, looking older than he was.

“I was right there, meatball head. You can’t tell me a story I saw,” Cass grumbled.

“Yes, I can, sandwich brain! You weren’t sitting where I was!”

“Hey, no name-calling.” Sarah brought a plate of cornbread to the table. She raised her brows, waiting for them to apologize to each other. “And AJ, give it a rest.”

Sam sighed. “Boys, Mom’s right. Let’s talk about something else. What did you guys do at the Brown brothers’ house? You had fun with Tate, too?”

The door to the restaurant chimed, and in came Tommy, his daughter Tonya, her son Tate, and Terrance, who smiled once he saw Sam, giving a wink as they found a table. His outfit looked a lot more flashy in the light, and Sam hadn’t wanted to make assumptions, but Bucky assured him that he was gay on the way to the restaurant.

“Wait, how do you know?” Sam had raised a brow.

“Just asked,” Bucky said with a shrug that made Sam painfully aware that his boyfriend had absolutely no tact, no home training, and didn’t care what came out of his mouth. Then again, this was the man who would apparently murder for him.

Still, it comforted Sam a little to see Terrance with his family. There weren’t many gay people in the town who hadn’t moved away, or who he actually crossed paths with. 

“What about you, Uncle Sam?” Cass asked, bringing his attention back.

Sam gave his best I sure wasn’t listening smile, and Bucky sighed, putting an arm around his shoulders. “His favorite villain is Uncle Bucky.”

Cass snickered. 

“I thought you said you were an anti-hero, Uncle Bucky, that’s not a villain.” Cass pushed up his glasses.

“What’s an anti-hero?” AJ asked.

Sam rubbed his brow. “Someone who doesn’t want to be a hero or villain, and Uncle Bucky is a hero because he’s my hero.” He winked, and Bucky chuckled, arm closer around him behind his chair as Sam ate a piece of hot cornbread with butter to hide his blush.

~*~

Sam leaned against the restaurant glass, a second beer in his hand as he watched Cass and AJ run with water guns. Bucky ran with them, shooting with precision too good, even though he let himself get hit too. He still looked damn fine in that henley.

“He’s a keeper,” a voice said, and he looked left as Terrance leaned on the glass next to him.

“Yeah…” Sam mumbled, smiling as Bucky lifted AJ on his shoulders, giving him a higher vantage point to spray Cass. Then AJ sprayed Bucky instead, laughing, and Bucky pretended to fall to the ground, shouting how could you betray me!

Terrance laughed with Sam as the boys ran to get flavored ice from a cart, and Bucky sat for a moment, shaking the water out of his head before following them, giving Sam a smile.

“How long have you been together?” Terrance asked.

Sam felt his cheeks redden. “Months.”

He gaped. “No way. He’s watching your damn kids.”

“My sister’s kids,” Sam corrected him.

Terrance clicked his tongue, a little sass to his voice. “Could’ve fooled me.” And Sam instantly decided that he liked him, feeling a bit more at ease as they chatted, not really saying, I’m gay, and, Oh, me too, but just talking and taking in the breeze. 

“You ever want any?” Terrance asked.

“I don’t know. My job doesn’t really allow it. You?”

He smiled. “I have a daughter, cute as a button.”

Sam gaped. “Oh, now I have to see this, come on.”

Terrance laughed, taking out his phone as Sam’s phone suddenly vibrated. He quickly excused himself and eyed the contact: Maria Hill.

Sigh.

Guess vacation was over. “Bucky,” he mumbled, eyeing him across the dock. Bucky looked back. Sam shook his phone, and then answered, mumbling, “Sam, reporting in.”

***

Chapter 7: Home

Summary:

Sam and Bucky head to DC. Bucky cheers up Sam.

Explicit

Notes:

notice: light kink (or should i say spicy vanilla)

Only fighting for his life could take Sam’s mind off of his family, and soon, he probably would be. He sat in silence on the jet next to Bucky, pretending he couldn’t feel the glances every other minute. I just want some time to think, Sam had said, and Bucky agreed, then sitting next to him, tapping his fingers against the armchair, restless.

Sam exhaled, and Bucky looked at him expectantly. “Baby, I can’t,” he tried to soften the blow, “I can’t think with you staring at me for twenty minutes.”

Bucky raised both brows. “Oh, I-” He made a sound in his throat, doing an awkward eyebrow thing. “-figured you’d want to talk about it.”

“I don’t,” Sam admitted, and he felt a little guilty as Bucky rose from his seat and then sat on the other side of the jet, face dejected, mouth in a pout. I didn’t say leave, just… 

Sam groaned, leaning forward to rub his forehead with his palms, giving up on trying to collect his thoughts together. This was gonna be a long ride.

~*~

Reaching the D.C. Air Force base raised his mood. Things were constantly moving, and people were scrambling around in fatigues, giving him nods, then looking surprised, as if, wait, aren’t you on vacation, cap-sir? Well, technically, he was, but mind your business. An urgent mission that mostly counted as a favor to Maria made for a good reason to run away and breathe.

Yeah, that’s all Sam really wanted to do, fist balled tight on the handle of the briefcase coded to his fingerprints, the metal vibrating slightly, his wings ready to be set free. Bucky paced only a step behind him, speaking on the phone to Maria, telling her they’d landed. 

Sam learned quickly that Joaquin was in field A, training with the wings, and it made him grin as he passed more confused faces, albeit happy to see him. He found Joaquin flying in the air, whooping as he made it through a simulated ring without bumping any of the sides. Those were Sam’s training montages coded to his goggles. No one else could see the figures flying at Joaquin, but they made for a great workout. 

Sam smirked, leaning into a hip as Joaquin twisted and turned, looking a lot more fluid than weeks ago. Bucky touched his shoulder and leaned in, asking, “Maria says she doesn’t have an assignment for us until tomorrow night?”

“I know.” Sam smiled, tilting his head over, eyes a little mischievous. “Now we’ve got some breathing room.” 

“Oh, you’re bad, doll.” Bucky shook his head, still keeping his hand there. “What are we gonna do in the meantime?”

“Inhale. Exhale,” Sam said coolly.

They watched Joaquin for another minute before he lowered to the ground, ripping off his goggles and squealing real loud. “Ha! Wow! And they say Mondays are the worst day of the week! Not me!”

Sam opened his arms. “Bring it in, kid.”

“Sam! Big bro! The man! The captain!!” Joaquin’s cheek smushed to his shoulder, still smiling wide. “Gooood, I missed my retired falcon.”

“I’m still technically the falcon,” Sam added and released him, “Just captain of the, uh, future falcons.”

Bucky snorted, and Sam squinted back at him, prompting him to look away, hands in both pockets as he snorted quieter. Joaquin then squared on Bucky, eyes feral, white smile still beaming. Bucky shifted awkwardly and blatantly crossed his arms, saying like a child, “Nuh-uh.”

A birdlike screech escaped Joaquin.

“Quin. Buck,” Sam said sternly, rolling his eyes, “Really.”

Bucky breathed out through his nostrils, unfolding his arms to reach a hand out to pat his head, mumbling a good to see you haven’t died. Joaquin made a happy string of sounds and then rushed Bucky in a hug, who sighed again before accepting it, looking unamused as he petted him. 

“I don’t know why y’all gotta be so weird.” Sam shook his head in disbelief. Every damn time.

“Aren’t you on vacation?” Joaquin asked once they were both up in the air. Bucky sat in the grass, leaning back against one arm as he stared up at them. Whether he could hear or not was beyond Sam. Sam barely could hear himself if their headsets weren’t linked.

“Well, yeah…” Joaquin’s eyes were covered by the goggles, but Sam saw Bucky tilt his head to the side, ripping up a poor dandelion. Sam quickly added, “We’re just doing Hill a favor. Some hush-hush case.”

Joaquin gaped, suddenly making a puppy-dog expression, mouth scrunched in a beg.

Sam shook his head. “Not a chance.” 

“Those are the most fun! Pleaaase, I was a big help with the Flag Smashers!”

“Yeah, yeah. She didn’t even give us all the deets yet. Shoot, I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this. Might lead some crazy vampire androids right to your door.”

Joaquin shook his head. “Wow, you’re turning into him.” He pointed at Bucky, who now lay with his arms behind his head, eyes closed. 

Sam smirked. “And that is?”

“A poor sport, total jerk, party-pooper. Take a pick”

“I’ll take total jerk for 300.” Sam laughed, unable to deny Joaquin’s words as Bucky peeked an eye open, watching them separate and then do summersaults.

Joaquin tapped out, seemingly already tired from his workouts, and then Sam slowly lowered to the ground, glad his body decided not to ache and groan. It’s not like the vacation had been that long, but still.

Bucky yawned, starting to sit up, smiling as Sam landed, watching the wings spread out real gorgeous.

Sam gave him a wink. “Nice nap?”

“I sleep better with my boyfriend. His name’s Sam, know him, angel?”

Sam grinned, holding a hand out to Bucky and then grunting as he pulled him from his seat. “I just might. He said he wanted to see you, he’s up there.” Sam pointed and Bucky groaned. “Come on, babyyy.”

“So you can complain about my weight?”

Sam scoffed. “That was the first time! You got the weight watchers arm model now.”

Bucky pursed his lips and thought as a few fatigues jogged by, the wings easily catching attention. Their leader barked for them to keep forward, though giving Sam a nod. Then they were alone again.

“You trust me?” Sam asked in a magical voice and Bucky scoffed. They closed their distance and Bucky bit both lips instead of kissing him. Sam pulled him into a hug, arms locked firmly around his waist. “I said do you trust me?” he whispered, breath on his face.

Bucky parted his mouth, licking his open lips and then swallowing, placing his arms around Sam's shoulders. “Fine.” Sam lifted off from the ground, grunting as gravity fought them and Bucky snapped out of his trance and shook his head. “Told you so.”

Sam laughed, voice a little heavy. “It’s the weight of love,” and that shut Bucky up, his blush easily visible with their faces inches apart.

“D-don’t drop me-” Bucky stuttered as they flew higher, the wings whirring as he tightened his grip, breathing in and out, body flush to Sam’s. Sam felt Bucky’s heart pounding, and he pressed their faces together once, stealing a kiss. He didn’t know if anyone could see them that high up, but Bucky kissed him back a little hungrily, even letting a soft moan out as the air thinned.

“Look,” Sam whispered, and Bucky opened his eyes, clouds around them as Sam smiled.

“Jesus,” Bucky sighed, leaning against Sam’s shoulder and rubbing his neck, the wings cradling him. “I feel like a gay Disney prince.”

Sam burst into laughs.

Bucky clutched him tighter. “Now can we please get the hell down?”

“Yes, my prince.” Sam kissed him again, and Bucky closed his eyes again as Sam descended, flying at diagonals rather than falling straight down, much more at ease on their stomachs.

~*~

Sam decided to check in to their hotel mid-day, considering there was nothing really to do at the base. Joaquin had been giving him I saw you kissing in my binoculars eyes and Bucky finally huffed, saying he was going to get, “A goddamn pizza.”

It was great timing, considering Sam had a therapy call that he’d nearly forgotten to tell him about.

He sat on the bed in the lavish room; only the King’s suite was available last minute, and, well, being Captain America now had some perks. Of course, he’d made Redwing do a device scan and they were definitely going to be alone. Then he closed the curtains. Better safe than on the news.

Ring-ring-ring.

Sam exhaled, sitting without his turtleneck and jeans, now in a simple t-shirt and shorts with his laptop propped on a pillow as the call went through.

“Hi, Sam.” A middle-aged woman with brown skin and burgundy Bantu knots greeted him, dimples showing in her smile. The office behind her looked bright and sunny.

“Hey, Dr. Jackson,” he said, instantly feeling at ease, all of the paintings and artwork reminding him of sitting there, being able to express himself.

“I’m still Kim. How’s vacation going?”

Sam sighed. “It’s on pause. I’m actually in D.C., on standby for a couple hours.”

She frowned, reading his face. “Did something happen? I know you were really looking forward to the rest.”

“I was…” he stretched the words.

“Does it have to do with that scarf you’re wearing?”

Sam scoffed. “Kim, my boyfriend picked this scarf out… even though he laughed after.”

She laughed, too, and he rolled his eyes and smiled. They were silent as he dropped his shoulders a little, knowing he had to come forth about what was really stressing him. Not that she would force him, she wouldn’t, but… 

“Everything’s messed up right now,” Sam said quietly, twiddling with a ball of the sheets as he stared at nothing, “My brother’s back.”

~*~

When Bucky returned, Sam was sitting on his bed with a pillow to his chest, the room dim since he’d turned off the lamps after his session. He felt like he was laid bare on a platter by admitting everything to her from the past couple of days, and even she couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. She usually did, even with some of the grittier things, but he’d gotten emotional halfway through, and, well, it’s not like either of them had a solution for things save for coping strategies.

“Sam?” Bucky asked carefully, bringing with him the smell of pizza.

Sam didn’t respond at first, face tucked into the pillow as Bucky cut on a lamp and took off his jacket. He stepped out of his shoes and then crawled onto the bed, placing a gloved hand on Sam’s arm. “Look at me, doll, what’s wrong?”

Sam lifted his head, eyes pink and puffy, nose a little stuffy. “Session.”

“Okay,” Bucky mumbled, sighing and laying next to him. He took off his gloves and then rubbed Sam’s arm again as Sam placed his face back in the pillow again and sighed. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and then Sam moved to cuddle with him, face pressed into Bucky’s chest as they lay on the bed, one leg thrown over his hip.

“I guess you don’t want to talk about it,” Bucky finally said as he rubbed Sam’s shoulders.

Sam shook his head.

“What if I do?”

He hesitated.

“Not with a therapist, I mean with you.” Bucky sighed, rolling onto his back, stirring Sam a little. “I just want to talk to you, and I feel like we’re not going to. Maybe it’s my-” He motioned with a hand to his head. “You know, anxiety - not that it was really a thing back then.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle, prompting Bucky to smile awkwardly as Sam crawled over his chest and sighed, giving Bucky a kiss on the chin. “Now you’re bullshitting me.” He trailed his finger along Bucky’s lips and kissed him again. “Okay… let’s talk.”

Bucky moaned into another kiss, and Sam’s hand brushed at the waistband of his too-tight jeans.

“Doll, mmm, about church- ah-” He gasped as Sam’s hand slid in fully and gripped him. Sam bit his lip, eyes like a hunter. “Darling- come on-” Bucky’s voice stuttered as Sam stroked him slower, other hand unfastening Bucky’s zipper, licking his lips. 

Sam smiled, removing his hands to pull at the jeans. Bucky stopped his wrists, leaning back against the pillow to catch his breath. 

“Fuck, you are so sneaky.” Bucky sighed, then pushing his jeans off all the way as he looked very cross. Sam glanced down at his half-hard shape and raised a brow innocently. “No way, you’re not gonna sex me instead of talking to me.”

Sam sat on his knees. “That’s why you’re getting undressed?”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed, and he pulled both his shirts off, reaching for Sam’s t-shirt. “It’s called multitasking, Sam, it’s a 21st-century thing. We can sex and talk.”

Sam grinned, allowing Bucky to throw his shirt somewhere and then push him over, nibbling at his lips and then yanking both his shorts down. Bucky tossed their underwear somewhere before grinding Sam slowly, a little greedy with it.

“Yeah, baby,” Sam let out a groan, jaw parting as Bucky huffed in his ear, their lower halves hot. Bucky moaned a little harder in his ear as Sam asked, “Sure beats talking, huh?”

“Shit-” Bucky paused, as if realizing himself, and then his eyes were upset again as he pushed Sam’s thighs open. “This is almost 48 hours, right?”

Sam shook his head, “I don’t even care,” twitching as he took in Bucky’s hot appearance, forehead a little sweaty, hair messy, lips puffy from kissing him so hard. “My bag.” Bucky broke away and crossed the room, finding his condoms and lubricant with ease.

Sam bit his lip, staring at the apple of his taut ass, and then he came back over, other hand over himself, stroking lightly as he met Sam laid on the bed like a French work of art.

“I’m topping,” Bucky added matter-of-factly, crawling to him. Sam gaped. “Better than talking, right, doll?”

Sam groaned. “Come on, I’d already worked up like three fantasies in the past two minutes. Sure you don’t want a ride?”

Bucky pouted, eyes a little glossy as he came close and hugged his face into Sam’s chest, mumbling, “Maybe I want to be inside you, maybe then I’ll know what you’re thinking.”

“Baby,” Sam started and swallowed the lump in his throat, letting out a breath as he stared at the ceiling. “Of course, I’m fine with it, but don’t go saying stuff like that. I love you, okay?” He pulled Bucky’s face closer, cradling it in his hands, pulling his chin in for a kiss. “Okay?”

Bucky nodded, and then kissed him back, slow this time, savoring it and Sam opened his thighs, pulling their bodies closer, taking in his furnace-like heat. 

“These are weird days, but I’ll never lock you out… I just can’t make sense of it right now,” Sam murmured, their faces close as Bucky’s hands found their way to Sam’s obliques, rubbing gently. 

“Sam, try with me… I don’t have any degrees, but I love you, too, and if we can’t figure it out, I’ll just fuck you real good, and take care of you till we do.”

Sam choked a little, the hard laugh taking both of them by surprise. “That was a serious, tender moment, and you just-” He laughed again. “Jesus.”

Bucky smiled, and then he licked his lips, spreading Sam’s thighs. Their hands explored each other as they kissed, and Sam almost couldn’t fucking take it, feeling every inch of him stimulated… almost. Sam reached a hand for the lubricant and opened it, face heating as Bucky licked his lips again. Bucky took the bottle from his fingers smoothly and spread a little over Sam’s shaft, rubbing it in with his left hand.

Sam jerked, biting his bottom lip as the smooth metal traced him. He almost arched against the bed, body threatening to fully release when Bucky stopped, a slight smirk on his face. “Buck… come on.”

“No can do, doll, we’re taking it slow enough to have a conversation.”

Sam groaned as Bucky pushed his legs higher and poured a healthy squeeze onto his rim. “Baby, do you really want me to think about my family right now?”

Bucky winced, pausing his motion. 

“Exactly, now fuck me like you mean it, and I’ll write you a damn novel of my thoughts after.”

A smile touched Bucky and he agreed, then without warning stroked Sam’s rim again. Sam shuddered, body really, really wanting to come already.

“You are something else, fuck-”

Sam’s jaw dropped as a finger entered him. He reached for his front, met instead by Bucky’s right hand.

“Don’t,” Bucky warned, eyes stern.

“Or what?” Sam asked, making a kissy face.

Bucky bit his lip hard. 

“Christ, doll,” he whispered, pulling his finger out and then huffing, like being interrupted while fingering Sam was some great inconvenience. “Fold your hands.”

“Pardon?”

“Sam.”

Swallowing, Sam grinned and folded his hands like he was praying, fingers clasped together. His heart beat faster as he waited for Bucky, trying to figure out what he was getting at. And then Bucky reached for his neck scarf and started to tie it around his hands. Sam gasped as Bucky pulled it secure, a blush at his cheeks.

“Is this okay?” Bucky asked quietly, a little less demanding for a moment.

Sam practically moaned out, “Fuck yes.”

He smiled and said, “Good, then I’m not gonna be nice today.”

Sam moaned again, dick taking interest in the words. “Yes, baby, I’m so fucking ready.”

Bucky huffed. “You want me to be mean to you, Sam?” emphasizing the words with his left hand pushing back into him.

Sam shuddered, mouth agape as a finger worked him, wanting to reach for his dick again, but his hands were clasped, fuck, and that really did it for him. He rolled his hips against Bucky’s finger and Bucky stopped, eyes narrowed as he pushed his legs up smacked his rear.

Sam yelped.

“Don’t tell me you liked that.”

Sam whimpered, biting back a smile, and Bucky smacked him again, it stinging more this time, and then Bucky rubbed his cheek.

“I said I’d take care of you, Sam. There’s more where that came from if you can’t listen. Understand?”

“Mmm.”

“Sam.” He smacked once.

“Ugh, yes,” Sam groaned, and Bucky sighed, seeming to accept the response. He pushed his finger back in, this time adding a second, and Sam took a deep breath, keeping his hips still, desperate for contact.

“Kiss me?” Sam whispered, and Bucky softened, leaning forward, Sam’s clasped arms falling over his shoulders. Bucky worked him some more, and Sam pulled him closer, inching close enough that he could feel Bucky’s stomach rub his sensitive shaft, and he almost came.

Bucky pulled back, and Sam groaned at the edge, feeling Bucky’s eyes piercing. “You’re being real saucy today, doll, already trying to come.”

Sam bit his lip. “But, baby, I’m so hard, I can’t-”

“Hush. You’re lucky I love seeing those pretty lips, or I'd gag em.”

Sam shivered, holding a bitten-lipped smile as Bucky leaned back, creating space between them again. He brushed Sam’s prostate, stirring him, and then added a third finger. This time, Sam’s head fell back on the bed, jaw slack as he couldn’t really fight the pleasure building up and the delicious stretch. And he gasped. “Cruella-”

Bucky stopped, fingers gliding out halfway. “You okay?”

Sam struggled. “Almost came-” Then he sighed.

Bucky looked relieved. “I thought that was too tight.” He inspected at Sam’s wrists.

Sam smiled sheepishly, saying, “Could be tighter.”

Bucky raised a brow, and then he ripped a package open with his teeth, “I’m not gonna stop even if you come,” and spit the wrapper out, “Unless you use the word.”

Sam nodded, heart picking up a little as he watched Bucky place the condom on his tip, jaw parting from the touch. Sam’s own mouth was open, wishing he could suck that man like a popsicle. 

“You’re ready, doll,” Bucky finally said, voice a little husky, eyes filled with want, “Look at you, dripping for me.”

Sam twitched this time, and Bucky leaned forward, tip pressed against his rim, starting to nudge him.

“Please fuck me, Bucky,” Sam begged, “I need it so bad-”

Bucky smiled, face stupid as he moaned in his mouth. “You’re gonna behave?”

“I’ll be so good for you,” Sam whispered, wiggling his hips to stir him.

Bucky must have liked that one, because his hips moved against Sam’s and he pushed in nice and slow, stretching Sam, stimulating every nerve at his opening as he gasped out.

“Ah-” Sam felt the build-up come quickly and he released, moaning loud and falling against the pillow as electricity flowed through him. Bucky’s jaw was dropped, but he caught himself and swallowed as the high settled in, unmoving, Sam convulsing around him.

Sam moaned and mumbled with a smile, starting, “Thank you, baby, I don’t even need to talk anymore, I’m so satisfied-”

That did it. Bucky growled in his throat and thrust forward, making Sam whine, sensitive around him, jerking against the bed. “I’ll show you satisfied, doll.”

Sam laughed, voice then catching in his throat as Bucky thrust his hips again, hitting him right in the prostate.

“Shit-” Sam hissed, fireworks going off his his head. Bucky kept up the slow pace, brushing past him this time, face twitching as he tightened inside of Sam. 

“Jesus, oh fuck,” Bucky whispered, thrusts growing heavy as his jaw dropped, head falling forward. Sam gasped, heels pulled in tight to edge him on, leaking a bit of cum and shuddering, his wrists over Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky panted in his ear and Sam watched his face in bliss before he came, mouth falling open completely.

Sam started to catch his breath as Bucky pulled out, whimpering as he removed the condom, every touch to himself making him shiver. The sentiment was understood as Sam shivered on the bed. “That was nic-” Sam didn’t finish as Bucky unwrapped another condom with the half-lidded face of a man who sure as hell wasn’t finished.

“B-bucky.”

“Turn around, doll.”

Sam swallowed, slowly getting on his knees, hands still bound. Excitement jittered through him, remembering how serious Bucky’s stamina was.

“B-baby?” He was met by gentle hands at his hips and then a kiss on his back. “Y-you’re hard again?” 

The answer that met him was Bucky’s tip at his hole stretching him, and Sam’s head fell on the pillow, unable to even think as his dick hung limp, hot and stimulated, giving in so easily. Bucky started pounding him at a pace that made him shout into the pillow, Sam begging him to go faster until an orgasm rippled through him, lost in a place of euphoria. 

~*~

“You okay?” Bucky mumbled, face apologetic, hugging Sam’s waist as Sam bit a microwaved slice of deep dish. 

“I don’t know, let me ask my asshole,” Sam mumbled, and then he paused, looking to the side, “Says no.”

Bucky groaned, hiding his face in the wrinkled blankets. Sam smiled, thinking how good it felt to just sit there and eat after being completely satisfied, albeit sore. If someone were to walk in armed, he’d have to just let Bucky handle it, but he felt so good still coming down from the high, even his toes were twitching.

“It felt great,” Sam assured him, not wanting his baby to get too depressed now.

“You said the safe word again…” Bucky’s voice was muffled.

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, cause you wanted to fuck me a third time, genius. Give America’s ass a break, rub my feet a little, feed me some pizza before asking about round three.”

Bucky shook, and Sam would have been incredulous if he was crying, but he was laughing, and suddenly, Sam regretted even letting him get a second round in. I mean, what in the cocky mess? Turn around. Where the hell did that come from? Granted, he’d checked his stitches after - which were looking fine - but why'd he need to check in the first place?

“Do you… want to go for three?” Bucky asked quietly, peeking his head up.

“Bucky, you try taking dick that many times in a row.”

Bucky laughed. 

“Nevermind, you’d fucking love it.” Sam shook his head. And who was supposed to be the kinky little slut? Sure as fuck ain’t me… completely.

When Sam finished eating, he sighed and sank into the sheets, elated that he could completely avoid the wet spot with how huge the bed was. Kings must have had a fuckton of sex. Sam laid down and closed his eyes, pretending it wasn’t probably only seven in the evening. He wasn’t jetlagged since he’d flown vertically. But, God, did he mention how fucking great he felt?

“Baby, that really did it for me,” Sam affirmed him again, “I feel so good. Thank you.”

Bucky smiled, hugging his chest, one leg over his hips like a koala. “Any time, hun, even in five or ten minutes if you want.”

“Yep, give an inch, take a mile.”

Bucky kissed his pec.

Sam cuddled into him, closing his eyes, mumbling, “I know church was weird…”

“Different weird than usual.”

Sam chuckled then sighed, rolling a little to see Bucky’s forehead and stroke his hair. “I wish I could have just hit him up there, Buck, but I would’ve looked so stupid.”

“You’re the better man, Sam.”

“I don’t always want to be.” He smiled. “Sometimes I just want to deck my brother for fucking with me and my boyfriend. Hell, I want to deck a lot of people for being assholes. I can if it’s a mission and they came at me first, but everyone else, I have to protect.”

“Even him?”

“Even him,” Sam sighed, “But I am gonna hit his ass again. I don’t care what the hell I said up there.”

Bucky snorted in a funny voice. “I love you, reverend.”

They both laughed hard, shaking the bed. “Jesus, you’d think Miss Mabel would keep it in her bloomers at this age,” Sam wheezed, “And what the hell was Carlos crying for? Oh my God, this town.”

“It’s home,” Bucky said, smiling.

Sam grinned. “It is home.”

***

Chapter 8: Mister 📷

Summary:

Sam and Bucky work out. Later, they investigate a lab.

Notes:

This is a fun one yall. plot-leaning but still serving some snacks. I'm enjoying this :D

“Don’t look so excited for me to wipe the floor with your ass,” Sam said with a bit of cockiness, pacing back and forth across the mat.

He had on a sleeveless mock neck top and tac pants, and he liked the way Bucky drooled a little circling him. They were alone in the training room, courtesy of Joaquin reserving it. Had Sam done it himself, he knew they’d get a few peekers, eager to see the rare occasion that cap and an ex-Winter Soldier were fighting. 

“Sweep me like a fucking broom, doll,” Bucky quipped with a grin, making it very obvious that the outfit was everything for him.

Sam walked away, shaking his head. And, fine, maybe he knew what he had going on as he looked back over his shoulder, catching Bucky biting his lips and then raising his eyes, a bit frustrated. Clearly, this wasn’t the going at it he was interested in. “Sure you don’t need any handicaps? Old man?”

Now Bucky chuckled, shaking the fuck-me expression off of his face as he shook his arms out, rolling his shoulders and neck. “Hit me with everything you got. Hard.”

Sam moaned in his mouth, not missing the way Bucky shivered, shifting his stance in his black tac pants and fitted t-shirt, exposing his swollen biceps and the sheen of that beautiful arm. Before Sam could be distracted longer, he rushed at Bucky and tested a jab, heart picking up as Bucky dodged it with a smile.

“Come on, Sam,” he whispered, taking a swing back at him and Sam ducked it, knowing Bucky didn’t expect him to throw a kick right at his side. He coughed a little, and then grabbed Sam’s leg, lifting him.

Sam gave it away with his excited smile as he lifted his other leg over Bucky’s shoulder with a grunt and used his weight to knock him down onto the mat, locking his arm.

Bucky tapped twice and Sam let him go, them scrambling to their feet. “Was that new?”

Sam glared. “Stop going easy on me.” 

Before a reply met him he tackled Bucky back to the ground and wrestled him, knowing grappling was definitely his domain. Bucky grunted, managing to pin Sam down in under a minute, but dammit, he fought for it, and then sighed, tapping the mat.

“That’s more like it,” he huffed as he stared at the ceiling, accepting Bucky’s hand as he was pulled up, eyes inspecting that he was okay. “You can’t go easy, Buck, I’m not always going to have you on my side.”

Bucky’s face stilled, though his brows twitched. Neither of them really said it, that other enhanced were out there, too, but it seemed to resonate as Bucky looked more serious, and then this time came at him first, throwing a punch that made Sam grit as he missed it by a hair, and blocked, trying to deflect his blows. Bucky stopped as Sam took deep breaths. 

“Sam, take me down fast or not at all.”

He remembered Nat once saying similar words when she had watched him spar with Steve. She was always going up against those taller, stronger, underestimating her, and the way she and Sam fought made him feel like a teenager fighting an experienced adult, but with each takedown, his body got better. 

Once he nodded, Bucky rushed him again and Sam managed to avoid his hits, surprised when one connected with his stomach, making him heave. “I can tell you’re injured there,” Bucky mumbled, eyes apologetic, “Not just cause I’ve seen you naked.”

“Every tough guy gonna be this flirty?” Sam asked, and Bucky paused, giving him a moment to land a knee into his gut, and his jaw tightened, locking Sam’s next hit as he eyed him. How do you take down someone stronger or faster, who perceived your weaknesses? Bucky wrestled him into a headlock as they fell to the mat, Sam managing to scramble free. Then Bucky grabbed his ankle and Sam hissed, rotating his body to twist out of it, hopping back to his feet.

Bucky smiled a little, catching his breath, and Sam grinned, running at him again, this time hitting him as quickly as possible. Bucky managed to grab him into another chokehold, making Sam drop and try to roll them both to the ground. With a squint from the impact, Bucky stilled his body and kept his hands secure as Sam kicked out and felt his body start to panic.

“Sam,” Bucky hissed, weighing on him. “You know this one.” 

Sam gritted, shoving Bucky’s arms enough to loosen his grip, and then he shouted in an effort, kneeing him as hard as he could as he shuffled to his feet. Bucky took a deep breath, nodding. And then they stared at each other again, but Sam could feel how much less energy he had while Bucky looked warmed up. They collided again, Sam a little more reckless, throwing an elbow into his chest that made him back up, and then he took the moment of surprise to jump on Bucky, who instinctively kept standing, shaking from his weight as Sam rotated his body over his shoulder, and threw him to the mat.

Bucky blinked, staring up with a parted mouth as Sam exhaled, lowering to his waist as he straddled him. “Let’s take a break, babe.”

He started to get up and then felt Bucky pull his hips back down, fingers gripping tightly, making him aware of the pressure there now poking him.

“Buck…” Sam winced, but he couldn’t pretend the elevated heart rate and blood pumping hadn't woken up something hot and primal in himself, too. He leaned down and cupped Bucky’s face and kissed him, sighing as Bucky rolled on top of him, sucking his lips.

“Mm,” Sam moaned, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, and then Bucky flinched, cheeks red as he eyed the door, starting to get up. Sam grinned, locking him with his thighs and then rolling on top of him, pinning his arms and kissing him hotly. 

“Oh!” Joaquin shouted, immediately covering his mouth. “Don't, look, ma’am! They’re, uh-“ He tried. 

Maria Hill’s voice came, and then she stepped into the doorway, a brow raised. “Training?”

By now, Bucky had Sam in a made-up jujitsu hold and let him go as her heels clicked across the room.

Joaquin looked a very pink shade of tan, eyes in disbelief as Sam rose from the hold and gave him a wink. He shot cherry red, and that made both him and Bucky. Bucky rose and paced toward the window, probably calming himself down. Sam met Maria with a PR-ready face, stepping into her line of view.

“Wilson,” she said with a smile, “If you’re that eager to stay fighting, you could have taken me on. I would have come dressed.”

Sam chuckled, rubbing his head. “I have no doubt you can still handle your own in a pencil skirt, Hill.” And, besides, fighting the person in charge of not-SHIELD assignments didn’t seem like a great idea. So far, she’d been a little easier to deal with than Fury, being that she had a sleek-back bob and no eyepatch, but he wouldn’t pretend the man hadn’t chosen her well. 

“How’s Fury doing?” Sam asked in the meantime as Bucky paced over, a lot more put together and human now, albeit eyes burning into Sam.

“I interrupt something?” Maria asked, and Sam smiled a little tighter as she managed to deflect and made him heat up a little.

“Haven’t seen the guy in a while, sure miss him, is all,” Sam redirected with a gritted smile, and they both eyed each other tightly as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Uh,” Joaquin stood in the doorway awkwardly, “Should I get you a chair?”

Bucky waved him off, while Sam shrugged. And then they were alone, watching Maria pace toward the large windows and stare out of them, giving him no clues about her connections as usual. They had to run deep, given that she was still armed somewhere in that skirt suit, even if she didn’t look it, and a liaison between the Avengers compound and the not-SHIELD was still necessary. Did he mention that she wasn't in SHIELD?

“We’re alone now, tell us about the mission, favor, or whatever this is.” 

Maria narrowed at him and then huffed. “Well, in short, I need you to survey a hotspot, my grid picked up activity in an old dead zone.”

Sam sighed. “That’s it?”

Bucky shook his head. “Sam, let’s go home.”

Her heel clacked and she looked appalled. “Oh, cut the theatrics, I don’t ask you for much.”

Sam crossed his arms, giving Bucky a look, and they both shrugged. “What’s so special about this dead zone that it’s got you needing us?”

“Not just any, an old government research lab.”

Sam looked horrified. “Seriously? This better not be Hydra.” He didn’t like how Bucky suddenly had his ears perked up.

“I don’t mind breaking into the gov.”

“Buck, no. I’m literally Captain America.”

“Well, I wanted to just send him, he’d be willing to,” Maria crossed her arms, staring at Bucky, and he tilted his head, giving a convinced shrug as Sam palmed his forehead. “My other chaotics are tied up with assignments. So, here, I'm stuck with a chaotic neutral and his lawful good beau.”

Sam huffed, hands on his hips as Bucky gave him feral, excited eyes. “Fine, tell us more.”

Maria smiled, head angling toward the doorway as Joaquin rolled in a comfortable desk chair, and offered her a seat. She crossed the room then sat down in it, folding one leg, muttering, “Still warm,” making Sam wonder who the hell’s ass he pulled it out from under. He lingered for a moment before they all eyed him, and he left, dejected but with the decency to close the door behind him.

“The lab was headed by General John Ryker. Yes, the Ryker.” Sam shifted uncomfortably, staring at a visual cast from her watch. He didn't know much about the man except that he had a corruption sheet longer than a damn CVS store receipt after buying one pack of bubblegum. Military crimes were high on the need-to-know list, and a lot of files were barred by red tape, not that it made Sam sleep well at night to know that. 

She met Bucky’s thinking expression with a smile on her face. “You know him.”

Bucky hummed. “Hydra had a picking off generals phase, but… I remember they didn’t bother going after him.”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

Maria smiled again, something dark in it this time. “The guy was already batshit and an enemy to the state. Once he messed with Ross and managed to fumble getting the Hulk under control, it was game over.”

“What happened to him?” 

“Same thing that happens to corrupt white men high on the food chain. Told not to do it again over a slice of prime rib. Same shit they did with Zola, and look how that turned out,” Bucky spat, shaking his head. “The more things fucking change.”  

“He’s no Zola, not many left who are that perfectly evil. Ryker did create something valuable to the military, so they keep an eye on him,” Maria continued slowly, leaning back comfortably in the chair, “The files were a bitch to find, but his lab experimented with Gamma radiation. That's all I've got.”

Sam widened. “No, we’re out,” he squinted, “Bucky.”

Bucky hesitated. 

“That’s not our area. Isn't gamma how the green guy was created?” Sam shook his head. “And we're talking someone who clearly didn't treat him well. Does Banner even know about this? We’re going behind his back.”

“Wilson, this isn’t something I can ask just anyone to do.” Maria darkened. “And, believe me, I’m doing you a favor by putting you on this.” She sighed before he could decipher the words. “It may involve the creation of super soldiers. I don’t know for sure. It could be nothing, and we’re down people I can trust.”

Bucky looked surprisingly serious. “We have to check it out, Sam. Shut it down if someone’s trying to make more soldiers.”

Sam gritted his teeth. “Fuck, okay. But I can’t leave the wings.”

Maria smiled. 

~*~

Sam certainly had his wings, but his suit was replaced with black tac gear, the good stuff, smooth and warm, breathable, fitting him like a glove and hugging him just right. 

Bucky eyed him from the hotel room’s desk, a slight smile on his face. “You don’t like it.”

“The outfit? It’s hot,” Sam muttered, leaving the full-body mirror and slinking over to Bucky, sliding into his lap. The chair creaked under their weight as he admitted, “Not really, no. I know she’s hiding something.”

Bucky slid his arms around Sam’s waist, leaning into his neck. “Mmm, ‘course she is. Little brat is Fury Jr.”

“Is our vacation too long?” Sam asked, wincing. “Is that why we’re jumping at this?”

Bucky smiled as Sam pushed off his lap and then sat on the desk, Sam pouting as he stared down at him. Hands rubbed his thighs and Bucky hummed. “It’s just an investigation. Ryker’s been silent for years. We just need to find out who would be sniffing around his old playground. Best case, a cat tripped the alarm.”

“Right…” Sam exhaled, rolling his eyes as Bucky shot him a pair of lusty orbs. He began unfastening Sam’s black tac pants, earning a look of disbelief. “Really?”

Bucky pulled his hips forward. “I need you relaxed out there.”

Sam sighed, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling as he took kisses to his stomach, and then his jaw dropped, taking in the familiar warmth of lips enclosing him. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

“I’ll make it five,” Bucky murmured, tongue moving and breath hot, and Sam fisted a handful of his hair, a low groan escaping. He looked down and met watchful blue eyes. Might be three…

~*~

The facility was truly in the middle of nowhere, and they waited until dark before leaving the quinjet, carefully rolling a motorcycle off of it. Never mind how Maria had procured all of those things.

“You didn’t have to see us off, it could be dangerous out here,” Sam said firmly.

Joaquin smiled. “I’ve got your back, guys.” He wore his own green and black tac gear, and Sam sighed. It was bad enough that they already were going behind both the government and military’s back - not that they hadn’t before - but now Joaquin was following them.

“Just tell us if something happens,” Bucky said, sitting on the bike and then revving the handlebars. “After you get away.”

“If you guys need help-“

“Joaquin,” Bucky turned back and glared at him, “If this is Hydra, the best case is leaving with your life. Second best is dying.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably as Joaquin nodded quietly. “We don’t know everything, yet, but just lay low, keep the stealth on. You got the wings?”

Joaquin nodded, and Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, don’t take em’ off. I’ll keep you pinged through the satellite. No radios.”

Sam exhaled and climbed onto the back of the bike, waiting for the jet’s doors to lock and it to go near-invisible. He hugged Bucky’s waist and sped off with him, no shield, just the wings retracted on his back, a slew of weapons between them, and a feeling in his gut that didn’t say run, but that something smelled funny in the air.

~*~

They came to the facility a mile out, and Bucky parked in a secluded hill of trees, listening carefully as Sam used his goggles to survey the area. As far as the eye could tell, the low building was abandoned, otherwise semi-destroyed. Ah, there were faded signatures of heat, the dirt stirred along the sides of the building.

“I see footprints,” Sam muttered.

Bucky finished his surveillance and crouched down next to him, pulling out a pair of binoculars. 

“Well, I can’t hear anything this close, but our spot is secure. You want to go in hot?”

Sam hummed. “No, let’s keep this darkness. That’s only one pair of feet, but that doesn’t mean there’s only one guy. We should watch the area.”

“What if they’re long gone by then?”

Sam shook his head. “Tracks are warm. Let’s give it thirty minutes.”

“That’s enough time to destroy evidence.”

“Place is already falling apart,” Sam mumbled, “And our mission is to-”

“Figure out what the hell’s going on. Won’t find shit out from here,” Bucky added.

Sam sighed. “Alright, chaotic neutral, your gut says go.” 

Bucky smiled, and then looked forward, eyes tight as he readied himself. They got up, Sam sending redwing to analyze a path as Bucky hid the bike in a shrub of trees. 

He gave the area one last look before they descended the hill carefully. “No cameras, so if we’re taken out here, no one’s gonna know who did it.”

Bucky chuckled a little darkly. “Same goes for the other guy.”

Honestly, Sam understood why Maria wanted him on the mission first. There was a certain kind of crazy you needed for secret organizations and whatever bear they were poking.

Sam kept his weapon ready as he followed the footprints to an open hole around the back. “Um, what the fuck?”

The thing was blown right open, with fresh crisped edges. 

“This is new,” Bucky mumbled, and then he closed his eyes, listening inside, and he motioned.

Sam instructed redwing to hang back and survey the perimeter. Last thing they needed was being cornered from the front and back.

They paced inside what looked like the remnants of a laboratory. Pieces of lighting hung and the ceiling threatened to cave in. The place looked like there’d been some kind of fight before it was abandoned, denoted by old charred marks on the walls beneath layers of dust. Sam put away his weapon, tuning his goggles to the dark as Bucky snapped on a flashlight.

“The hell are we even looking for…” Sam mumbled, eyeing rows that eerily reminded him of photos from the Hydra labs. But it also could be any organization. “Does it look like Hydra?”

Bucky had already broken open a drawer and flipped through burnt files. “I think it’s just… Ryker. This stuff’s almost too-” he shook his head “-can’t make it all out.” 

Smash.

Footsteps.

Sam eyed him carefully across the room, and then Bucky lowered his light and they both took cover by the sides of the room. The steps grew louder and there were voices. Two voices?

Sam gave Bucky a look, and he held up two fingers, then the doors to the hallway burst open, and in waltzed a young man and - Sam had to blink - a bird. No, he was definitely a man, but he had feathers for arms and looked like some kind of… harpy? Furthermore, they both had green skin. Enhanced?

“See? I told you no one else was here. This place is abandoned,” the young man said, though his voice was fairly youthful and he was rather petite, armed with weapons that Sam didn’t recognize.

Bucky hadn’t moved yet either, watching them stop.

The young man squinted. “Griffin, did we leave these drawers open?”

The bird-like man squawked, stomping his taloned-feet, medium-long hair shifting dramatically. “Of course, we didn’t, you idiots-for-brains. I can smell the two humans behind us!”

Shit.

Bucky ran at him first, and the bird-man, he guessed Griffin, intercepted him. Sam couldn’t take in his oddly green appearance as he found cover, watched carefully by the young man. He had an awkwardly large cranium and wore comically large goggles, but Sam had to guess the tech had a similar capacity to his own.

“Come out, now, or I’ll use this,” he said, holding some kind of launcher. Sam slowly left from behind the podium, hands raised.

“We want to talk,” Sam replied calmly, “This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

The man hummed, lowering his weapon to his hip and scratching his large forehead. He didn’t open his mouth, but Sam heard the words: “You appear confused, Sam is it? We’re not Hydra.”

Sam froze. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

“You can think of me as Timothy. Why are you investigating this area?” Timothy thought.

Sam blinked. Thought? Or were those his own thoughts? His- his voice was inside Sam's head. Sam glanced quickly at Bucky, who grunted, flying across a table. “I’ve never seen a Winter Soldier up close.”

“Knock it off!” Sam snapped, marching forward and grabbing Timothy by his shirt.

“Sam?” Bucky asked, ducking a talon and then locking Griffin in a headlock as he looked back, concerned.

“Bucky, he’s got some kind of mind powers-” Sam suddenly grimaced, feeling like his head was splitting as Timothy stared at him calmly, lowering back to the ground. “Sorry, Sam, but this is going to hurt-”

Sam’s wings expanded, and the young man coughed out, flying back into cabinets, and then Sam narrowed his eyes again, and the wings formed a shield as he caught his breath.

“How are you blocking it?” Timothy said aloud, raising his weapon and shooting a blast, which also bounced off effortlessly. A billion dollars of Wakandan technology came in handy.

“Oh, vibranium, that's inconvenient,” Timothy noted, and Sam tightened, painfully aware of his every thought being read.

A book suddenly flew across the room, and Timothy grunted, holding his shoulder and looking very offended. It snapped Sam out of his trance as Bucky marched over to them and threw his right fist forward. Timothy glared at him and he paused. 

“Buck?” Sam asked, eyeing Griffin get up slowly, groaning.

Bucky twitched, eyes feral. “Get the fuck out of my head, Tiny Tim.” 

“Careful with him!” Sam said as Griffin moved in. Sam used his wings and then kicked Griffin back, earning a snarl. 

“Bird fucking spits acid, Sam!” Bucky growled, landing his hit as Timothy fell to the ground with wide eyes.

Sam quickly understood what he meant, blocking a glob of liquid with a panel, and then dropping it to the ground, seeing it corrode like acid.

“Come on, that’s disgusting,” Sam grimaced, and then he fought the bird again, grunting, “Y’all talk or just fight?”

“This one’s actually human!” Griffin sneered, and Sam retracted his wings, pulling out his knife. Even if they both had wings, this was a close-quarters fight.

“You trying to create supersoldiers?” Sam asked quickly.

“If I was, what makes you think I’d tell you?” Griffin smirked.

Sam nodded, seeing clearly this was the more pliable of the two. “So, no? Okay, what are you doing here?”

“Griffin!” Timothy snapped, getting up from the ground as Bucky cracked his knuckles again. “Keep your damn mouth shut!”

Griffin growled, turning back to Sam who smirked. He could tell the disposition of someone not in control of their emotions.

“What’s he, your owner?” Sam dodged a kick and hopped onto a table. “Need his permission to shit, too?”

“I’ll rip you to shreds, bird!” Griffin hissed, claws ready.

Sam smiled. “Why green, anyway? I didn’t know freaks were looking for Ryker.”

Griffin launched at him and wrestled him to the floor, revealing sharp canines as he hissed. “We’re not looking for that asshole, you think he cares whether we live or die!?” 

Sam widened, reading the hurt in Griffin’s eyes, no, the anger. “Did he do this to you?”

There was a shout, and Griffin froze, jumping from Sam to tear across the room.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Bucky said, his right hand pointing a gun while the left was around Timothy’s neck. Timothy struggled, eyes squinting and Bucky’s face tightened, and then he exhaled. “I said that shit’s not gonna work on me, kid.”

“Don’t kill him!” Griffin snapped. 

Sam got up slowly, drawing his own gun. “Why not? You got some special relationship?”

Timothy shouted, and Sam narrowed. “Buck, don’t murder for me.”

“Maybe it's for me,” Bucky hissed, eyes hard as he faced Timothy. “Aren’t you looking at what happened to the last people who tried to control me?” He leaned in, tilting his head. “Take another look.”

Sam exhaled as Bucky let him go, but he didn’t lower his gun on Griffin. Timothy was shaking on the floor.

“Wh-what did you do?” Sam whispered.

Bucky glared. “The guy reads memories, just showed him a good time.” But his shoulders didn’t lower, and he didn’t calm down even as the two surrendered.

~*~

“He did some kind of,” Sam twirled a finger, “Psyche attack, I don’t know.”

Bucky scoffed. “I’m free now, I’m not gonna be taken out by a damn tickle.”

Sam frowned, eyeing him carefully. He wanted to walk over and hold him tightly, immediately, squeezing every ounce of tension from his shoulders, but they still had two assholes sitting across from them to deal with.

“Well, it’s not like I have anything to tie you up with, and we’re not arresting you,” Sam muttered, “If you attack us, clearly that won’t be a good idea. So why don’t we just… talk?”

Bucky raised a brow expectantly, and Timothy didn’t meet him. 

“For one, I’m wondering why the hell y’all are green,” Sam said, leaning against a table and crossing his arms.

Griffin shook his head in disbelief. “Seriously? I have fucking wings. He has a head the size of the Hulk’s balls, and you want to know why we’re fucking green,” he laughed out.

Sam tilted his head. “You know Hulk? And you know Ryker.”

Griffin gritted.

“There’s no point in shutting up, now, come on.”

Bucky squinted. “They were made here, there’s…” he shook his head, as if trying to remember something, “Tanks, like the ones in Siberia.”

Sam blinked. “Like cryo tanks?”

“I don’t know, I just see tanks with green stuff. Gamma… water?” Bucky shrugged and Griffin growled again, raising from his seat.

“Don’t think you know anything about us! Fine, we were made here. That doesn’t make us someone you’d understand. We’re not Hydra pets.”

“No, just Ryker’s pets?” Sam offered, and Griffin stepped toward him, Bucky stepping in the middle.

“Griffin,” Timothy hissed.

“At least one of you is smart,” Sam mumbled, sighing, rubbing his forehead with his gun hand. Investigating might have been his only priority, but clearly, Timothy had done something to Bucky that made him perfectly fine with killing that night. 

“Look,” Sam started, “I don’t care if you’re green, purple, or the size of a damn ant. We’re here to make sure no one’s trying to do nefarious shit in this place anymore.”

Griffin raised a brow. “That’s all?”

“Well, we’re not- I’m not trying to kill you.”

Granted, even with the green, a bit of color returned to Griffin’s face as he took in the words. “No one sent you…”

“They’re in the dark, Griffin,” Timothy said quietly, “They didn’t know we existed.”

Sam didn’t miss the slightly relieved look on Griffin’s face. Well, he supposed anyone would be happy to find out they’re not gonna have their life subscription ended by his supersoldier boyfriend, but Sam felt like there was something he was missing. 

Griffin scoffed. “Should have started with that. You think I felt like fighting tonight?”

“No, you were just trying to start this little project back up, make some green goblin friends,” Bucky said, and Griffin growled again.

“We’re not!”

“Then why are you here?” Bucky asked intensely, and Sam glanced at him.

Timothy spoke up. “We came looking for a cure.” And that surprised Sam. “You think we like looking this way? Being freaks? Not able to go to a damn bar unless it’s for other freaks?”

Sam raised a brow. “You even old enough to drink?”

“We wanted to see if there was anything salvageable, and there’s not.”

“So, now what?”

Timothy sighed. “I don’t know, maybe go home and start from scratch, unless you’d like to murder us in cold blood.”

Bucky tilted. “That could be arranged.”

“That will not be arranged,” Sam snapped. “But if you’re really not evil, maybe I can help.”

Now Timothy seemed to be surprised, and Bucky looked at him incredulously. “Sam, now isn’t the time to play him, come on. You believe them?”

“Buck,” Sam furrowed his brow, quieter, “You know what it’s like to be changed without your consent.”

Griffin stared at the ground.

“We’re letting you go,” Sam mumbled, “But I need to do a scan of you. I don’t trust you that much. And if I figure something out in that cure department, I’ll find you.”

Bucky looked pissed as they stared at each other and then seemed to agree. Sam instructed redwing to return and scan their bodies fully to be sure they hadn’t taken anything. They were clean, and it almost relieved him, and they all walked through the lab hallway in relatively tense silence, passing several rooms and a large one with both doors shut. Then they made it to the entrance, and Sam nodded before they opened the door and left. Thankfully, it didn’t trip any alarms. 

“This is a mistake,” Bucky muttered as they both watched the two walk before Griffin spread into a stance, and then took flight, carrying Timothy on his back.

“Guys like that can’t hide forever, Buck.”

“Sam, I was in that guy’s head. We can’t trust him.”

Sam raised a brow. “What do you mean in his head? What the hell was happening with you? With me, he looked at my thoughts or something, found out what we were looking for in seconds.” He reached over and touched his tense shoulder. “Buck?”

Bucky sighed, staring at the ground. “The only thing I was thinking about was you, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes glossed, mouthing his name, no sound coming out.

“It was just you… and me… and us. If I did this alone, I could’ve led him right to you.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” Bucky hissed, “We’re on a mission, a fucking stupid mission, but our lives are in danger every fucking second and the first thing I do is show our enemy you in bed, looking fucking beautiful, and gorgeous, and-” His breath wavered, and Sam grabbed him around the shoulders, pulling him into a kiss.

“You hurt him. How?”

Bucky started to smile, eyes somewhere else. “Figured the guy can only see what you show him, so I went somewhere deep into Hydra… for a second I wasn’t me. That’s enough to break someone. Hydra, th-they tried hypnosis with some human once. Failed, so they used metal. Machines break your mind because you can’t look back into them and break them, too.”

Sam struggled to keep his face from shaking.

Bucky smiled for real this time. “Usually, the only thing I think about is you, Sam.” He winked. “Come on, I’ll show you what I saw in his big ass head.”

Before Sam could reply, Bucky took his hand and led him back inside, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as he converted back to mission mode and we’re in the middle of nowhere mode and not I don’t deserve this lovely man mode. 

Midway down the hall, there was a large room with tanks, and Sam gaped as moonlight lit the place through holes in the ceiling. They were definitely big enough to fit whole people, the containers that weren’t broken. Bucky trailed to the corners of the room, opening drawers, but Sam was too enamored by the large tanks. On one of them, there was a metal plating that he could almost make out. Griffin.

“Shit, Buck, they were made here,” Sam said, staring back at him as he tossed aside burnt files. Sam smiled a little awkwardly, realizing he was the only one himself not investigating. Redwing returned and he instructed it to take pictures. Then he looked over the other tanks. Mess. Grey. None of the names were really identifiable. There wasn’t a Timothy anywhere. Prodigy. The last tank was the most damaged, and said Mister —  charred plate.

“Mister what?” Sam mumbled, jumping at the sound of glass breaking. He snapped his head up and Bucky was staring at the ground, muttering, “My bad, doll.”

Sam exhaled, shaking the silly from himself. “Let’s finish up.”

~*~

Once outside, they processed the fact that they hadn’t really found much. Redwing probably got more just surveying the area than they did. A few files looked notable, and Bucky had shoved them into a recyclable supermarket tote taken from his jacket pocket, and Sam smiled, remembering how relieved he’d first been to discover that there were people who didn’t waste in this century.

“Something is bothering me, though,” Sam admitted, motioning toward the side of the building.

Bucky followed him with a curious eye.

“Griffin had - you know, talons on his feet. Weird footprints.”

“Yeah…”

“Tim-guy, the guy’s feet were definitely smaller than ours.”

Bucky’s face changed as they made it to the path that Sam had seen when scoping the area out. The not-so-fresh prints were still there, and Bucky swallowed, carefully stepping his foot into it. “I told you they were fucking hiding something.”

Sam hesitated. “Yeah. They were looking at us like we were sent to kill them. You see anything like a third person in that guy’s head?”

Bucky sighed. “I - I don’t know, it’s blurry, he started fighting back by then.”

“Well, know any black market weapons that could do something like that?” Sam pointed toward the hole that they had entered from, edges still warm.

“Jesus, you’re milking this bad cop thing.”

Sam smiled. “Come on, I love a sexy guy with a dark past.”

Bucky chuckled, his tote bag wrinkling as he crossed his arms. “It’s gonna sound stupid, but I fought the guy for my life once. He’s the only thing in my head I remember blasting a hole like this.”

“Who?” Sam narrowed.

“Stark.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he definitely fucked you up real good.”

Bucky scoffed. “I said it’d sound, stupid. Christ, let’s get out of here.” He muttered quieter, “I thought the good cops were supposed to be nice.”

“That’s the secret, there ain’t none.” Sam winked, and they both laughed, heading back up the hill to the motorcycle, pinging Joaquin that they were O.K. and returning soon.

Bucky found the bike and lifted the seat, throwing the bag into it. Then he hopped on and nodded his head to Sam, who slid in behind him and kissed his cheek, rubbing his hands down his torso.

“We definitely need to get one of these,” Sam mumbled.

Bucky smiled and maneuvered them back onto the road, keeping the headlights off. Sam didn’t know how he could see, but he pressed his cheek to Bucky’s shoulder and sighed, feeling good with the wind on his face. As much as he hated that Timothy had gotten into his head, he was glad he could only think of the mission and not his family. Sarah and the boys were safe.

Hell, even with being away from Gideon, the last thing Sam would want is to lead some crazy green people right to his brother. That had nothing to do with him.

~*~

Joaquin hugged Sam extra tight once he returned. “I was so scared! Saw a giant bird guy fly right by and at first I was like, ‘Captain, that you?’” 

Bucky choked on his water and then burst into a laugh with Joaquin.

Sam shook his head, pushing him out of the hug. “Y’all ain’t right.”

They rose into the air, and Joaquin steered them into safe heights before he turned on the auto-pilot and joined them in the main cabin. “What are we working with?”

Sam squinted. “We aren’t working with anything, but considering you’re here, fine.”

He sighed as Joaquin whooped, scooting in to see the visuals on the laptop.

“I’m just going over Redwing’s data. The bird-man and big-head guy were accounted for, but there was a pair of third prints - a nobody, except I need to see who. Bad cop thinks it’s Stark.” 

Joaquin laughed, and then stifled it as Bucky glared. “I did not say that. I’m just saying my head thought of him first.”

“After he got fucked by that brainiac.”

“Oh, so did you! I’m the one who managed, though, how about that?”

Joaquin tilted his head. “So… you’re both not trying to bang Stark? Cause I think you’d have to go up there for that.” He pointed to the sky, and they both shoved him. “Lo Siento, damn, don’t kill your favorite first lieutenant!”

They settled and all stared over the laptop again, Joaquin ooing and aaing. Then he tilted his head. 

“Kid sees something,” Bucky mumbled, digging into a bag of black licorice. 

Joaquin leaned forward, scrolling back in a video. 

“That’s just inside,” Sam said.

“Well, yeah, but look. This is a classic case, guys. Ever seen the one with the robber whose back was turned but got caught?” 

Sam shook his head and suddenly Bucky grinned, mouth full. “They uh-” he motioned “-caught him in the-”

“Mirror!” Both he and Joaquin finished.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wanna fill me in, geeks?”

Joaquin huffed. “Look. In that glass, it’s blurry but-” he zoomed in and pressed a few keys “-that’s our guy.”

Bucky and Sam squinted at an image of a figure flying, Sam asking, “Our guy’s a shadow?”

“Give it a moment to run a predictor model…” Joaquin mumbled. “There.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Uh, Bucky…”

“I told you, I called it, you didn’t believe me,” Bucky rambled as he shoved more candy into his mouth, never mind that he barely believed his own damn self.

No reply met him. Sam was too stunned wondering what the fuck Iron Man was doing fleeing the crime. He hated this mission suddenly and wished he’d never taken it.

“Vow of silence, right now,” Sam said sternly, and they both nodded. “No one can know about this until we figure out what the hell is going on. Not even Hill.”

***

Chapter 9: Gideon 📷

Summary:

Tensions rise at the Avengers compound. Banner reveals something to Sam.

Explicit

Notes:

...even I had to sit back and go, "Now, that is a lot of goddamn angst." 🙃 Good luck friends, stay safe reading this

PS. It is black licorice

Sam didn’t feel great about keeping information from Maria, though not bad enough to tell her everything. They met at the Avengers compound in rural New York, the building almost finished construction yet still empty. Being back put him in a sour mood given that this was technically still his vacation. Whatever that meant. 

Joaquin was sent back to the Air Force base in DC, but Sam knew that the brat would start digging around for information on Griffin and Timothy, and reluctantly, he approved, emphasizing cover your digital trail and I want to be told if something happens.

The compound was near-empty, given that their Avengers team was still incomplete post-blip, the team that Sam had taken on the mantle of leading. He hadn’t been doing that flawlessly. They were horribly understaffed, still going through heaps of paperwork, and crime only seemed to ease up for a week or two following his official swearing-in until the thugs of the world shrugged and resumed their regularly scheduled behaviors.

Not to mention the political leaders who wanted to kiss hands instead of helping civilians. Thinking about that brought back a lot of negativity that he didn’t expect to rush him at once, shoulders hitching tightly as they walked through the drafty halls. 

Bucky was close next to him.

“Feels like it’s damn abandoned,” Sam muttered, passing large digital portraits of old members leading into new members, and then there was him in his white suit, smiling, seemingly confident. He stopped in front of it and sighed. “Maybe we shouldn’t have taken this on.”

The Avengers or this mission? If Bucky wondered which, he didn’t ask. 

He suddenly hugged Sam from behind, resting his head in the crook of Sam’s neck. Sam softened a little, still pouting the way he could when Bucky was spoiling him with affection.

“We have now, let’s see it through, and then we can go right back to boating, or do something boring like play golf. Mm-“ he pressed his lips into Sam’s cheek.

Sam smiled, picturing the warm sun on his skin over the water, them having a picnic and just talking together. “Mmm, that’ll be nice.”

He eyed a couple of portraits lined up after his own, newer Avengers like Scott and the anonymous spider brat - and then there were blank spots. That’s what scared him, the thought that they’d stay blank and no one would want to step up to the plate after seeing so many strong heroes fall. Meanwhile, enemies were willing to respawn like a damn video game.

“Let’s go,” Bucky whispered, giving Sam another peck on the cheek, and then he dragged Sam off to a conference room where Maria was certainly waiting for them. Sam held Bucky’s hand, one of the perks of no one being in the joint. He let go and adopted his professional face once they pushed the doors open.

Maria had her eyes buried in a datapad, sitting on top of the table with one leg crossed. 

“Fellas.”

“Hey…” Sam said awkwardly, eyes drifting to the other side of the room “…guys.”

Bruce gave a slight wave, prompting Sam to raise a brow as they entered. He took a seat while Bucky stood, leaning into a hip until Sam motioned for him to sit, too. Seriously, Buck?

“I take it we’re filling in the green guy?” Sam asked, staring at a very human-looking Bruce because he was definitely not that smart hulk that Sam could never quite grow accustomed to.

Bruce seemed calm, tired, the usual. There were a couple of files spread on the table, some of them that they’d sent ahead by drone from DC. Nothing else was salvageable. 

“I’ve already been filled in,” Bruce said in his soft voice.

Maria explained, “He knows everything I’ve told you, plus, his own spin.”

Sam narrowed. “You mean stuff that could’ve prepared us before we ran into a bunch of green hostiles? No offense, man.”

Bruce shrugged. “Understandable.”

“It was time-sensitive,” Maria retorted.

Sam let it go. “Let’s debrief.”

They summarized the mission, adding mostly descriptive details that Redwing cast onto a set of screens displayed on each end of the table. Bruce’s expression was plain, but what bothered Sam was how unphased he looked by the ordeal.

Sam had decided to leave out the part where he pretty much let a bunch of enhanced leave Scott-free, but she asked anyway, and they were forced to mention it.

Maria tapped her nails, a hint of irritation on her brow. “You let suspects escape?” 

Sam crossed his arms. “How the hell was I supposed to know they’re suspects? The way the place was set up, they looked like victims. Remember when I said we should go to Bruce first, and we didn’t?”

Bruce hummed, attracting their attention as his eyes scrolled over crispy sheets of paper, saying casually, “They’re not victims.”

Bucky blurted out. “They’re not?”

“Not completely. They all volunteered for those experiments, and became a specialized military kill squad.” His eyes went somewhere else. “Well, they mostly wanted to kill me-“ He sighed. “Which, I get, I guess.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Bruce… we’re in the dark here.”

Bruce sighed again, rubbing a hand through his black and gray streaks. Then he pressed a few buttons at the table and a sheer curtain lowered over the windows. “Didn’t sleep enough,” he muttered.

Sam tried not to look horrified at the fact that he was the only one finding this ordeal strange.

Bucky growled under his breath. “No one sane would volunteer for that shit.” 

Maria raised a brow. “Rodgers, for one, did.”

“That’s- that’s not the same-“ Bucky struggled, and Sam didn’t really know what to say, choosing to nod in agreement.

Sam added, “They didn’t seem like the justice hero types.”

Bruce started low, “They weren’t. The Gamma Corps had one purpose: killing the Hulk and by extension me. Before I got the green guy even remotely under control, a lot of people died, innocents, I don’t know how many…”

“At some point, you lose count,” Bucky muttered.

Bruce nodded. “And if you hurt the right wrong people in some way, they’re found by men like Ryker, and they’ll agree to anything for revenge, a taste of power to fill some loss. For some it’s vengeance.” He tapped a hand on a sheet of paper. “Others just like violence or feeling strong, don’t care if it makes them a freak. Ryker exploited whatever reason they had. Built his own Gamma soldiers and the military let him. They didn’t actively care until the damage started to cost too much, and then it was books closed.” 

“How do we stop them?” Bucky asked.

Bruce looked surprised. “Why? They’re non-active.” 

“Because they’re dangerous - we’re dangerous, Bruce.” Bucky narrowed. 

Maria spoke up, “We need to account for them. These soldiers are not in any of the records I have. We didn’t even have a visual until the scans.”

“There’s nothing to find,” Bruce said.

“How do you know?” Sam asked carefully. 

Bruce sighed. “I was there when that laboratory was destroyed, or, at least, the green guy was. Everything was blown apart, along with its science. Those soldiers went underground last I checked. If the military knew about them, they’d eliminate them immediately.”

“Because they’re enhanced?” Sam asked, even though part of him knew the answer.

“Because they’re not under anyone’s control,” Bucky hissed, “And the people actually in charge of shit don’t like when the crazies are thinking for themselves.” He tightened. “Look at me. I’m still on a leash, Sam, even if I get to see you every day.”

Sam’s brows dove.

“We don’t have to turn them over to the military or government,” Maria interrupted, “We can keep an eye on them ourselves, make sure they understand the lay of the land.”

Sam narrowed at her. “Again, if they’re not committing crimes, why would we go arrest them? This is more of that Accords mess. We help people, we’re not tyrants.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment. “You didn’t see what I saw, Sam. He’s planning something.” 

Bruce suddenly looked interested, and then it faded just as quickly as Maria glanced his way.

“Well, they’re long gone, and no one can use the lab. We’ll have to just wait,” Sam decided. 

Maria sighed, rising from her seat. “Very well. Contact me if you find anything, and I’ll keep an ear out.”

“Our vacation?” Sam asked, turning in his chair as she made it to the door. 

“Do what you want, not like you answer to me, Cap.” She tsk'd. “Or any of the bureaucrats up our asses.”

The doors closed behind her, the clack of her heeled boots lessening down the hall, and then they were left with Bruce who had that interested look on his face again.

“Tell me what you didn’t tell her,” he said, “About his mind control.”

Sam sighed, this time actually getting up to stretch the kinks out because he felt exhausted with Fury Jr. and the doc. 

“I was in that big head guy’s mind,” Bucky got up, too, leaning over the table, palms pressed against it. “Saw his memories, saw you there in the lab, Bruce.”

“What?” Sam twitched. “Buck, you didn’t-“ tell me that.

“I didn’t realize until I saw Bruce,” Bucky mumbled, “It’s like a trigger or something. Bruce, he could try and read my thoughts, and I showed him the bad stuff instead, messed him up, got these glimpses of things going on in the lab. I felt his bloodlust, we can’t trust him.”

Bruce’s eyes were wide. “Interesting, let’s talk more in the clinic. I’d like to examine both of you.” He motioned. “Gamma radiation, leftover toxins, the place could’ve been slightly fumed with it - I need to make sure you’re not afflicted.” 

Sam fell back into his seat. “Of course…”

~*~

The medical lab was cool like the rest of the building, prompting Sam to shiver for the third time because Bruce sure was taking his time. He exhaled into some kind of mask, and then Bruce ran over his vitals, asking Bucky questions about what he saw in Timothy's head.

“Interesting,” Bruce mumbled as Sam put his shirt back on, shivering again. “Those effects should wear off soon, not many can fight off that kind of psychic attack.” Then he nodded over a datapad. “Luckily, you both are looking well enough.”

“Bruce,” Sam leaned against a counter as Bucky put that disrespectfully ripped body away, two shirts over his head, “We didn’t tell Maria, but there was someone else there, and Timothy and Griffin had a reason for being there.”

“You don’t know who or why?”

“They talked about finding some kind of cure for their condition-“

“Which could have been lies,” Bucky added, “You said yourself they signed up for it.”

Bruce hummed, sitting down on a stool as they eyed each other. “There’s no reason for the five to go after me at this point.”

“Why would they just stop? You didn’t-“ Sam grimaced. “-kill their loved ones, after all?”

Bruce blinked. “Not really, no. I sort of did and didn't. Mostly, I didn’t.”

“In normal speak?” Sam begged.

A sigh. “Ryker had the five believe that I'd personally hurt them with the Hulk. Maybe that Griffin and…” Bruce scrunched his face. “Prodigy, the smart one - maybe they aren't lying. If they want a cure, it’s possible-“ He continued, nodding to himself “-the last time I even came close, the Hulk made another personality.… and that personality made an AI for Gamma experiments. In short, it ended up just making a mess, and I don’t have access to it. At best, it's a rogue AI with that knowledge.”

Sam raised a brow, confused. “So you can’t help them?”

Bruce shrugged. “No more than I can help either of you. I get that these are dangerous people, Sam, but there are many out there like us. Not just gamma soldiers, but mutants and those who need a home, not a cell.”

Sam nodded, brows diving as he met Bucky’s face. Home.

~*~

Once they left the medical lab, they roamed the building, holding hands, Sam not quite thinking about how empty it felt. “Do you think we can trust Bruce?” 

Bucky sighed, then said, “Definitely more than Hill, and he's never let us down. He doesn’t have any love for the government with how many times they tried to lock him up, but she’s a complete wild card.”

“I mean, I’m sure somewhere in there she wants to help… I just don’t know if I’m a step ahead of her or behind her.”

They made it to the elevator and ambled inside, pressing the button to the apartments.

“But you still want to find these green guys?”

“Sam, I told you-“

“I know, I trust you saw what you saw.”

Bucky lowered, nodding.

“Buck, I just need us to wait first and see what happens. We can’t witch hunt these guys. You want the X-Men to be right about us being soulless corporates?” Sam sighed, unable to laugh at his own joke due to fatigue. “We haven’t even seen the rest of them, or know if they’re still together; we're in the dark.”

“Well, we don’t know anyone high on the military chain,” Bucky raised a brow, adding, “Who we can trust.”

“Maybe Rhodey,” Sam mumbled, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, feeling him stiffen. “What?”

“We saw an Iron Man suit… I mean, he also has one.”

Now Sam laughed. “Yeah, sure, straight-laced Rhodey working with government fugitives. That’s a good one, baby. Next pigs are gonna fly.”

“Why not? I like air-fried pork.” Bucky shrugged as the doors opened, and they entered the short hallway leading to what served as Captain America’s apartment. Sam hadn’t asked for a whole damn floor, by the way. He pressed his hand to a wall, and the door opened, revealing a modern set-up with way too much space.

“Ugh, we should’ve just kept my apartment.” 

Sam sighed. “Money.”

“We could get money, doll,” Bucky said, voice echoing as he trailed to the fridge to inspect what was still in there. Sam rolled his eyes, not bothering to go over the we won’t illegally get money argument again. 

“Anything in the freezer?”

“There’s beer; we should order in, though, unless you want frozen crinkle fries and… mystery meat?”

“Do that, I’m gonna shower,” Sam called back, taking his bag into the bedroom and dumping out its contents, then collecting the few items. There were two other bedrooms in the apartment, doors closed, unused, then a laundry room, bathroom, and closets. He found some clean sweats in the drawers, and then tossed his DC clothes into the laundry. 

“Ordered Italian, using the uh, delivery drone,” Bucky said, standing in the doorway watching him strip. 

“I’m gonna start a load if you want those clean.” Sam motioned to Bucky’s outfit, throwing his underwear in, and then Bucky raised his eyes back up. 

“Uh, yeah-“ He bit his lips and Sam smiled, giving him a pat on the chest before passing him into the bathroom and starting a steamy shower. 

Once Sam accounted for toiletries left in the place, he stepped into the glass cube and sighed, remembering that the water pressure was the only good thing about this place. Made stopping by between missions worth it. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, sighing out, then scrubbing his body down. The sound of the door opening echoed, and then he heard Bucky shuffle in.

“I wasn’t gonna use up all the heat,” Sam offered, blinking water out of his eyes.

Bucky stepped in naked, moving in for a kiss. Sam smiled into it, hugging his waist, and then mumbling, “Get my back.”

Bucky huffed, voice heavy. “Wet hottie in front of me and I’m stuck scrubbing his back?”

Sam grinned, soaping up the loofah and then handing it to him. “Somebody’s gotta keep America’s back clean.”

Bucky moved in, pressing against his back, and Sam rolled his eyes, biting his lip as Bucky’s teeth traced his shoulder. Bucky bit down softly. Sam moaned, aware of the pressure poking him, and his own body easily recognizing the want of the man he loved, who was slowly rubbing the loofah down his chest, other hand taking grip of his shaft.

“Buck-“ Sam groaned, “Come on,” leaning his head back and exposing his throat, which Bucky kissed and sucked on, right arm scrubbing his stomach.

Sam jerked against him, suddenly turned and pushed against the wall, meeting hungry lips. He ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair, earning encouraging moans, and then Bucky gripped them both in his left hand, making Sam shudder.

“Fuck, just like that-“

Sam pressed his head against the wall, jaw slack as Bucky’s slick hand worked them, the metal sliding brilliantly, every sensation driving Sam closer before he shouted, clinging to Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky shook after him, catching his breath, his other hand supporting them against the wall. “Christ-”

Letting himself come down from the high, Sam sighed, leaning forward into his chest. “You had one job, scrubbing my back.”

Bucky smiled and lowered to his knees, making Sam flinch.

“Oh God- Buck, I can’t-“

“Can,” Bucky said, and then his lips were on Sam, flaccid, sensitive, and a whimper left Sam’s lips, clutching Bucky’s hair as his legs shook, a finger entering him.

Sam gasped out, feeling like he’d left his damn body as Bucky swallowed him to the base, making him yelp, and then finally freeing him. Sam caught his breath in relief. He swallowed, looking down at a smiling devil.

“Turn around, doll,” Bucky said with a wink.

Sam rolled his eyes, feeling pressed against the glass as Bucky rose up and kissed him once on the cheek, finger working him again, and he groaned. Bucky lowered, and Sam bit his lip, very aware of the tongue trailing lower down his spine before his hips were pulled backward.

Sam gasped, flushing hot as Bucky entered him with soft licks, hands clutching him, spreading him a little so his tongue could travel deeper. He added a second finger as Sam whined, brushing his prostate.

~*~

Bucky looked perfectly fine standing behind Sam, rubbing leave-in conditioner in his hair. He didn’t look ravished and tired like Sam, he was glistening, lotioned and oiled up, bathrobe open, briefs only, each crevice of his abs catching the shadows of the light just right. What a slut.

But, Sam, he sat on the sofa armchair with a towel around his shoulders, only in fresh underwear being that his sweats had suddenly disappeared, looking tired. 

“Too hard?” Bucky asked, boar-brushing his hair. Sam shook his head, closing his eyes in a sigh, rotating his head so that Bucky could get every side and then rub oil onto his scalp, earning jaw-dropped soft moans.

The man was an evil genius with his hands, lowering his fingertips to the nape of Sam’s neck, and pressing just right, aligning all of his damn chakras.

“Feels so good,” Sam whispered.

Bucky brought his fingers to scoop under his jaw, and for a moment, that massage must have been better than sex. 

He finished and Sam opened his eyes, probably looking like he’d had another orgasm. Well, he seriously wanted to throttle Bucky for fingering and eating him out so damn good, but his body was freaking putty now, and he motioned for Bucky to sit in front of him on a floor pillow, too tired to fight this soft domestic mood.

Bucky sat eagerly between Sam’s thighs, staring at the fireplace as Sam reached for a little oil and started to massage his scalp, earning similar sounds of pleasure.

“I swear, sometimes it’s like this is-”

“Better than sex?”

“Yeah… Jesus, right there, ugh, fuck me up.”

Sam laughed out loud, pushing into his temples and circling. “The sex is still pretty good, though.” He rubbed Bucky's scalp in the dim light, red flickering against them accompanied by heat, and Bucky closed his eyes, laying back fully as Sam paddle-brushed through a few wavy tangles, letting a couple of minutes pass.

“You sleep?” Sam asked.

Bucky moaned with his mouth closed, shaking his head, mumbling, “‘s nice.” 

Sam smiled, putting the brush down, sighing and hugging Bucky’s shoulders, chin on his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Why?” Bucky raised both brows, blue eyes searching him.

Sam rubbed a hand over his neck and kissed his cheek.

“This super soldier stuff can’t be easy… they’re not like you, but-“ Sam hesitated, letting go of him and rising to his feet.

Bucky’s brow furrowed, getting up and following him across the room to the open kitchen.

“I never even ask you how it feels-“ Sam mumbled, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers as Bucky moved closer. “-being different after the blip- if it pisses you off when we're traveling or, shit, even being… visibly disabled. Can I say that?”

“‘s fine, doll.” 

“Metal detectors are a bitch. Aren’t they?” Sam fumbled for a bottle opener, a little restless.

Bucky stopped his hand, opening it with two left fingers. 

“They are kind of a bitch-” he muttered, putting a hand on Sam’s arm. “Sam- what- what’s going on?” 

Sam stared at the counter. “I feel stupid… for never even asking,” he mumbled, taking a long gulp, and sighed. “But I also don’t understand, Buck. One minute you’re wanting to stop more labs like this from springing up, and I think you really care, and then you don’t.”

Bucky blinked, mildly appalled. “Why would you say that? Of course, I care.”

Sam winced. 

“Is this about the green freaks? Sam, those guys attacked us. A little vacation doesn’t mean let's go soft. We’re not fucking donut-eating cops, we're the real deal.”

“Technically, we attacked first,” Sam mumbled, leaning both elbows against the table, and pulling the towel closed. 

Scoff. “And guess what, they fucking lied about why they were there. Do you think that big-head jerk wasn’t ready to kill you? Welcome to real life, baby, everyone’s an asshole!” Bucky snapped. “I think about all of these variables, on top of you.”

“Buck-”

“Look at me.”

Sam took another drink, turning toward him, meeting the pained look in his eyes. “Bucky, I get it, of course, I get it. It’s just - I feel like every mission we have to go through the let’s not kill these guys before we have answers argument. I’m still wondering what the fuck possessed you to agree with Hill of all people. Say we took them in, then what? We hold them against their will?”

“They’re dangerous.”

“You’re dangerous.”

Bucky went silent, eyes a little wider, taking a step back.

“Fuck- I don’t mean it like that. Of course, I trust you, baby-” Sam moved closer. “But enhanced are people. If we can’t want to help these guys first then we’ll end up with another… dead super soldier we couldn’t save… case.” His face tightened and he whispered, “Fuck.”

Bucky put his beer down and touched Sam’s shoulders. “Karli wasn't your fault.”

Sam said quietly, “What if we should do different assignments sometimes… just for space? I don’t know, I feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s not you, I just-” He paused, feeling Bucky’s hands shake, lifting his head. “Buck?”

Bucky’s face was tight, almost breaking, eyes glossy. “Sam, do you want to break up?”

Sam widened. “No! Fuck no!” He grabbed Bucky’s face. “Hell no, Buck-”

Their arms wrapped tightly around each other, and Sam felt Bucky shaking, suddenly wondering if he was the worst boyfriend ever.

“You don’t want to work together because of me?”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant.” Sam pulled away inches to see him clearly, his unsteady breath and teary eyes making Sam’s heart ache so badly. “God, I’m just ruining everything this week, I’m sorry.”

Sam broke away, groaning out loud. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Bucky turned away as well, a sniff escaping him. Sam eyed his reflection wiping his eyes, and he tightened his jaw so hard Sam thought his teeth might chip.

“Can we… cool off?” Sam asked slowly.

Bucky nodded.

“Are you okay being alone?”

Sigh. “Yeah.”

With that, Sam slunk back toward the bedroom, his stomach sinking like a pit. He found his sweats folded neatly on the bed and put them on slowly, feeling like he was outside of his body. It’s just a fight… these happen. Breathe in, breathe out. He cleaned up his items thrown on the bed and pocketed his phone before heading back into the large space.

Bucky leaned against the counter, sort of twiddling a second beer in his hands. 

“Uh, I’m gonna-” Sam pointed, and he nodded. “-walk.”

There wasn’t a response, and he bit both his lips, leaving out the door before he swallowed down the feeling of crying, remembering another breathing exercise as he took the elevator down. Cracks of sunset lit red against his skin like the wound he felt inside. 

The elevator chimed, and he pulled himself together, not that he expected anyone to be there, but that was his routine from the old Avengers tower. If he couldn’t get his mind right in an elevator ride, then he’d be a liability to the mission, or briefing, or–

“Sam?” Bruce asked.

Sam realized he was staring blankly at him. 

“Uh-” That’s right, Bruce lived at the compound, too, considering he could eat, sleep, and science. 

“Were you looking for me?” Bruce asked.

Sam lowered and shook his head. “No- I-” started a stupid fight with my boyfriend for no reason. “Needed to clear my head.”

Bruce nodded like this was a perfectly acceptable response, and he didn’t bother to pry further. Scott would have asked more, eyes crinkling all the way as he stared. Steve would have told him to march back in there and apologize, hug, then kiss, because he only had the present and what mattered was now. Some movie bullshit that would make Sam life.

Sam started to walk in any given direction, realizing Bruce was walking with him, his own face lost in something. Sam tried not to let it bother him.

“Did you need me, doc?” he offered.

Bruce shrugged. “Clearing my head as well.” 

Sam left it alone, heading through a door onto what served as a patio with artificial grass. He took in the fresh air with his eyes closed, hoping it could refresh something in him.

“We’re fighting…” Sam mumbled. “I said something stupid.”

Bruce went, ah, and surveyed the cluster of trees surrounding the field of the compound. 

“Just been kind of stressed.”

“About the Gamma soldiers?” Bruce asked with a bit of surprise in his tone.

Sam struggled. 

“Sam… I figured it was post-mission, but your adrenals are a bit wonky. Is something else going on? I’d sort of hoped vacation would lower your stress rather than raise it.”

A bit of red sun touched Bruce, and they both moved over to a pair of metal chairs. “Believe me, it did… I loved having Bucky with my family. The kids adore him.” Sam smiled. “Every day passes slowly, no need for any of this hero mess… .”

“Why’d you take the case?” Bruce raised a brow, and Sam winced, wishing he hadn’t asked. “You could have stayed? Everyone insisted you take some leave, really…”

“It’s my brother,” Sam said quietly, “You don’t know him, but he kind of turned up after years and suddenly hates me for things I can’t really change like the past or… being gay. He’s just been a real asshole about it, too, gave me those damn stitches.”

Bruce looked surprised, and then his brows dove. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a brother or-” He motioned. Sigh. “Sam, I hope you know that you’re perfectly normal. Around the world, people love who they love, it’s literal nature. What’s abnormal is the intense hate that others project because they can’t understand something different or uncomfortably similar to themselves.”

“Damn, when you put it like that…” Sam chuckled, rubbing his neck, feeling his face heat up.

Bruce smiled, and it felt genuine. 

“Thanks, doc, seriously.”

Now Bruce chuckled. “Well, and if we’re honest, that’s probably the most normal thing about you, Sam.”

He gaped. “Wow, doc. You cut me deep.”

“I’m just saying…” He raised two gentle hands. “You intake a very concerning amount of mustard and manage to come back from vacation with stitches. I do also recall us discussing certain healthy but unusual fantasies of yours.”

“Doc, come on,” Sam groaned, “What happens in the safe house stays there, okay? Didn’t you take an oath of silence or something?”

Bruce smiled. “Rest assured, your health is confidential, Sam.”

Sam sighed. “Good, cause I’m definitely over the green guy, so I don’t need him getting on Gamma Instagram or something telling everyone my business. Plus, now I'm taken.”

They both chuckled, and it felt good to sit there in the silence, wind rustling against his neck and hair. The sun took its time lowering over the valley, seeming to understand that he needed just a little more light in his life, just a little.

“Can I tell you something, doc?” 

“Sam, of course.”

Sam bit both his lips and then sighed, crossing his arms for comfort. “Me and Bucky basically were arguing over… super soldier this and that. It makes no sense when I think about it. I think… I’m just sensitive over it because Gideon might be enhanced, and even though he’s kind of an ass, I wouldn’t want him to go through what mutants are…  of course, I want to help the mutants-”

Bruce tilted his head, nodding, eyes confused. “Mister Gideon is definitely enhanced, Sam. They all are.”

“No, I mean my brother.” Bruce froze like a still picture, and Sam thought a jumpscare would hop out and yell, surprise. “Doc… you okay?” Sam waved a hand, feeling a little rude for the gesture.

“Processing error,” Bruce mumbled, forehead wrinkling, “I’m sorry, Gideon, your…?”

Sam nodded. “Why are you saying Mister Gideon? Do you know him-” Sam slowed, something in his throat tightening. No. “No, that would- that wouldn’t make sense.”

They stared at each other.

“Bruce, this is my brother,” Sam said, opening a picture on his phone. Granted, an old one, and he had all of his hair, stood next to Sam in his deployment uniform looking proud.

Bruce sighed. “This is awkward.”

~*~

Sam paced back and forth in the conference room, feeling like a teapot ready to burst. Bruce took a deep breath for the fifth time, and San promised himself not to snap at the man, given that his wings were upstairs and should Sam cause him to have a goddamn green panic attack in response to his own panic attack and then he was suddenly ripped apart, well-

“Sam!” Bucky burst through the doors, startling both of them.

Bruce took his sixth deep breath, motioning for him to lower his gun. Jesus Christ, the man was in full gear and armed, holding the falcon wing set and-

“Please,” Bruce stressed, “This isn’t life or death. Everyone breathe.”

Together, they all breathed as Bucky eyed Sam confused, and put down all the weapons carefully on a table in the corner of the room. It took a minute, and he unstrapped his jacket, wearing only the tac pants and a t-shirt as the three sat close by at one end of the long conference table. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered, rubbing his hand on Sam’s.

Sam shook his head.

“Buck, I think Gideon might be…” Sam breathed, following Bruce’s example. “I don’t know for sure.”

Bruce said nothing at first. “We’re confirming if one of the Gamma soldiers may be Sam’s brother. His codename is Mister Gideon.”

“Oh, shit,” Bucky whispered, and then his head tilted, “Wait, he’s not green.”

Sam nodded fast. “Exactly!”

Bruce hesitated. “From your image, he does look very similar, Sam. I am getting old, but I remember a fellow who wasn’t green like the others, and… he had a very personal offense against me.”

“The timeline wouldn’t add up,” Sam muttered.

“It might if you add five years,” Bucky offered, “We weren’t here during the blip, Sam, and before it, we were tied up. Bruce was here, and so were Ryker and all of the people stupid enough to fuck with the Hulk.”

“Why would Gideon, my brother some honorably discharged man of God or whatever have gripes with freaking Banner!?” Sam rose. “Why are y’all so calm about this!?”

Bruce eyed Bucky, who swallowed, face a little awkward, sinking into his chair. “Do we have photos to compare, I mean?”

Bruce shook his head. “Other than these files, but they’re all descriptive.”

Sam stopped his pace and leaned over one. It was half-crispy, but some of it could be made out.

 

Mister —

Sex: M –

Height: 6 ‘ 0 –

Race: African Am–

“Sam,” Bucky said, “What if we show Bruce another picture of him? Ask Sarah to send one.”

Sam raised a brow. “It’s fucking 6:37PM. This is dinner time.”

Bucky scoffed. “If you won’t, I will.”

~*~

Sam blinked in surprise as Bucky started typing on his phone, muttering, “Sa-rah, qu-ick, fa-vor-” He tapped the screen. “Send.”

Sam and Bruce huddled over the phone and Bruce’s brows raised.

“Bucky, why the hell are you sending hearts to my sister?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that, mind your business, Sam.”

Sam gaped. Excuse-

Ding!

“Guess she can eat and text,” Bruce offered.

Sam growled in his throat, watching Bucky happily text Sarah, even using goddamn punctuation. He never did that with Sam, he just threw letters and innuendos and pictures of shit like stop signs with the caption: “Stop in the name of love ;)”

“There, I asked…” Bucky muttered.

~*~

“She doesn’t seem happy about it,” Bruce made another observation that they could clearly see.

Ding.

Sam’s jaw dropped, staring at a photo of Gideon posing at the dinner table, sitting between AJ, his infectious smile wide, and Cass, who smiled a bit more reserved. “She really sent it… Steve was right about you.”

Bucky cocked his head. “Right about what?”

“Said you were a lady killer,” Sam hissed, crossing his arms.

“Fellas,” Bruce said quietly, and they both stopped their bicker, embarrassed, then donning serious faces that matched the situation. “That’s Mister Gideon.”

“Shit.” Bucky raised his brows, knitting them together as he took Sam’s hands. “It’s okay.”

Sam felt himself trembling, sitting next to Bucky again, shaking his head. “No wonder he hates me, that’s one less person I couldn’t protect, my own family.” 

Bucky tightened. “That’s not an excuse for how he’s treated you, doll. Look at me.” He took Sam’s face in his, eyes locked and serious. “People who love you don’t judge you for this.” Sam nodded, closing his eyes, and Bucky pushed their lips together.

Bruce’s brows knit, eyes compassionate as he watched, skillfully breaking the mood. “I’m inclined to agree, Sam. I’ll admit, this complicates things.”

Sam sighed. “Can you cure him?”

“I’m still wondering why he isn’t green,” Bucky mumbled, and Sam rolled his eyes, motioning for Bruce to answer his question first.

“I don’t know, and, again, Sam. Ryker has his manipulations but all of the soldiers accepted to be a part of the tests. In fact, I believe Mister Gideon was retired when he agreed.”

Sam tightened. “Then why would he?”

Bruce’s shoulders lowered. “Because, in a way, I am responsible for Jim's death.”

“Jim?” Bucky asked.

“His son.”

Sam couldn’t move, voice a whisper, “My nephew… JJ”

~*~

Going back upstairs to the apartment happened in silence, Sam’s thoughts swirled around his head, some of them blaming him, others just asking, why? and some laughing at him for being so foolish.

Bucky touched the keypad and the door unlocked, then he led Sam into the apartment, which now smelled like Italian food. He carried their weapons to the dinner table. “Doll?” he asked, quickly returning to Sam who trailed in slowly.

“Is it weird that I feel positive?”

Bucky paused. “This time, yeah.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head, and Bucky smiled awkwardly. “I mean, I’m so angry, terrified.” He was led to the couch and sat down on it, staring at the fire crackling, and Bucky sat right next to him, taking his hands. Sam turned to him, still stunned. “And I’m sad, fuck I’m so sad. Are you sad?”

“I don’t know, it’s a lot to take in,” Bucky admitted, rubbing his thumbs over Sam’s wrist. He asked quietly, “Sam, do you think you’re having an episode?” 

Sam lowered his shoulders, realizing how fast his heart was beating, like he was outside of his body, somewhere else. And, well, there was that feeling like he might throw up if he ate, but then his stomach was growling. “I’m… a little agitated, but I’m okay.”

“Do you want to… eat?”

“Yeah. Let’s eat, baby.” Sam gave him a smile, waiting on the couch for Bucky to bring over some plates and dishes.

This is great, he reminded himself, taking deep breaths. He could work with this. A problem that was defined was the first step to fixing it. Basic science, really, just like Scott would say. Easy.

Bucky brought over the food and a familiar pill, and Sam scooted close to him, practically in his lap as Bucky hugged an arm around him, eyes expecting. “Fine,” Sam sighed, downing it quickly with water. “You know I can handle this.”

A kiss on the cheek met him, and then they dug in, thankfully nausea leaving as the food hit his stomach. Bucky’s eyes flickered and he shook his head, moaning in his mouth. “Worth the fucking wait- Christ-”

Sam agreed, the meatballs and sauce melting into his tongue, and that had to be their third collective orgasm after showering and scalp massages, eating food worth giving up sex for. He licked his lips, stuffing another piece of garlic bread into his mouth until it was so delicious that he was shaking. God, he couldn’t even breathe eating it. Loving the noodles. Crying into the noodles.

“Sam!” Bucky put down his fork and held him as he doubled over.

“They’re just so good at cooking,” he sobbed, choking on the tears, “The Italians.”

“I know…” Bucky whispered, hugging him into his chest. “It’s okay.”

“I-I’m not crying over-”

“I know.”

“I can handle this!” Sam shouted, clutching his shirt.

Bucky hugged him tighter as he tried to stay calm, whispering, “I know.”

***

Chapter 10: Kumbaya 📷

Summary:

Bucky and Sam make up. Wilson sibling chaos ensues.

Explicit

Notes:

Happy tenth chapter! May the 4th be with you. ~

Stormy weather plus tech failed me and I had to re-write this, lmao, so hopefully, attempt 2 is Gucci and the beginning makes up for the drama :D

Compound

Sam lay in Bucky’s chest, tracing his fingers along the ribs, counting each one as Bucky snored, unmoving. Bucky was definitely the gentle sleeper between the two of them. Stirring once or twice, shifting to smile and hold Sam a little tighter, and then he was back to hibernating.

In theory, Sam slept well, but his legs would find their way any-old-where around the bed, draped over Bucky’s hip. Or, he’d go to sleep cuddling Bucky and wake up on the floor, maybe hanging off the mattress or laying right on top of him. Thankfully, Bucky loved being smothered, and if Sam was especially restless, he’d just hold Sam, and they’d go to sleep like that. Such was the case this morning.

Sam placed both his hands on Bucky’s sternum, laying on Bucky. He rested his head against his wrists as he waited for Bucky to wake up, feeling the comfort of Bucky’s hands around his waist as their chests rose and fell.

It took a few minutes, and Bucky finally opened his eyes, managing to stretch and stir with Sam on top of him, sighing back a smile. He looked half-asleep, muttering, “G’morning.”

Sam leaned in and kissed him sweetly, whispering it back, and then chuckling as he felt Bucky rise. Bucky gave Sam a sly smile as his hands slithered a little tighter, kissing Sam, rolling on top of him. Sam sighed, taking in the soft kisses to his neck and under his chin, thighs spreading so Bucky could lie flush against him, feeling that he was half-hard and they started to grind slowly.

“Mm, are you even awake?” Sam asked with a moan.

Bucky paused, blinking. “Maybe?” he offered and then continued to kiss Sam, stirring heat between them, earning another moan.

Bucky breathed, eyes half-lidded as he broke away and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he rubbed his fingers over the slight indents under Sam’s eyes.

“Doll, you didn’t sleep well? You should’ve woke me.” 

Sam sighed back, closing his eyes, mumbling, “I’ll catch up later,” as he lifted his hips, letting his underwear be peeled off slowly.

Bucky made work of the rest of their clothes then straddled him, asking, “You okay?” 

Sam nodded, placing both hands on his thighs and then rubbing with a smile. “Course I am, I’m looking at this sexy man first thing in the morning.”

Bucky grinned, reaching a hand down to stroke Sam, and he let his jaw open, relaxing his head on the pillow.

“Bit tired, though,” he added, biting his lip.

“I’ll do it,” Bucky said, and Sam moaned in his mouth a little, sitting up to meet kisses, and then accepting as hands pushed him back down. 

“Let me see,” Sam mumbled, tilting his head as Bucky gripped himself, stroking slowly. He complied, spreading his thighs and holding a blush as Sam eyed his hand sliding along his shaft, wet with precum.

“Yeah, beautiful,” Sam whispered, loving the way Bucky flushed red, a moan in his mouth as he picked up the pace, arching as an orgasm built up.

“Ah-ah, baby,” Sam insisted, rubbing his thighs, “Slow down.”

Bucky huffed, twitching as he didn’t quite go over the edge, dick throbbing. “I can go right after, doll.”

“But it’ll feel good if you wait.”

Bucky bit his lip and then sighed, pouting. “Sam.”

“Don’t come, I want to see you be patient,” Sam said.

A moan left Bucky as Sam started to stroke him this time, his jaw parted. Sam trailed his eyes from his dripping tip to his v-cut abs, all the way up the long line of his neck and his sharp jaw lined with stubble. Sam met blue eyes and stayed with them, reaching to stroke himself with his other hand.

Bucky gasped, voice changing.

“Wait, baby,” Sam said calmly and removed his hand.

Bucky’s face scrunched and then he took deep breaths, twitching as the pleasure took him to the edge again, whispering, Fuck.

“You’re looking so sexy, I love it.”

Bucky whined in his mouth as Sam smiled and rubbed again, rolling Bucky’s head in between his thumb and index finger, stroking that sensitive underside, pulling him to another plane. This time, Bucky doubled forward, balling the sheets in his hands as he came, mouth open and moaning. Sam slowed his strokes as Bucky filled his hand, Bucky’s eyes closed in bliss for a moment.

“Didn’t that feel good?” Sam smirked.

“Oh,” Bucky's jaw parted, “So good, doll, I need it-”

“Wait,” Sam whispered, chuckling, sitting up to reach in the nightstand for lube and Bucky moaned in his mouth, impatient. “Sam, just do it, please-”

Sam shook his head in disbelief. “Baby, w-ow.” He earned a hot blush. “Give a guy a chance to spoil you.”

Bucky huffed, taking the lube and twisting open the cap, a grumble under his voice. “I don’t want to be spoiled, I want to be fucked.” 

Sam swallowed, his dick taking great interest in the words, and he gripped Bucky lightly. In return, Bucky trailed his own hole, giving a shudder. Sam smiled again, rubbing along the vein as Bucky worked himself with intent, face revealing every motion with squints and whimpers.

“That’s it, baby,” Sam whispered, knowing how the words affected him, “Seeing you prep is real sexy.”

Bucky shivered, trying to keep composed as he rose and wet Sam’s fingers, huffing. “Come on, Sam, I’m ready.”

“You sure?” Sam asked with a smile, licking his lips. “I want a safe ride for you.” He tugged for emphasis.

Bucky gave a stuttered moan, and he stopped his fingers, nodding as he scooted forward on Sam’s lap, raising himself.

Sam propped his knees, guiding his tip to the entrance, and then nodded.

“Nice and slow,” Sam said in a light breath as Bucky lowered. Sam relaxed as he sank in fully, stretching his way in, aligning their collective moan.

“Sam, I’m gonna-” Bucky moved, hands pressed to Sam’s chest, stimulating himself with short thrusts that made them both groan. “Shit-” Bucky gasped, coming on Sam’s stomach again and sighing.

“Sure you got it?” Sam rubbed his hips with a smile. 

“Yeah,” Bucky moaned, composing himself and then leaning forward to deepen his angle. Sam bit his lips, digging his fingers in harder as he took Bucky. Sam thrust his hips up, taking careful breaths, and Bucky moaned out, closing his eyes tight as he rode quicker, mouth open.

Sam whispered, hands moving to the side of his hips, “Baby,” he thrust a little harder, colliding them, and Bucky opened his eyes, but he was somewhere else. “Slow down.”

Bucky did, head falling back a little as he squeezed around Sam. Shit. Sam jerked, eyeing Bucky again as he adjusted his angle, rolling his hips the way Sam loved.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned, thighs shaking as he tried to keep it together.

“I’ve got it, doll, come for me,” Buck whispered, smiling.

Sam couldn’t speak, this time jaw falling open as the heat was too much and Bucky’s eyes begged him to join him in that place of pleasure, connecting them, making love to him.

“Bucky,” Sam moaned, shuddering under him, breath stuttering as he hardened and released.

Bucky shivered, a satisfied grin on his face, watching Sam melt into the bed like a puddle of beautiful art. He rubbed Sam’s skin with his palms, waiting for him to calm. In a few seconds, Sam did, looking back at him in bliss. There was then a bit of tightness to his squint as he registered the look in Bucky’s eyes and that begging bite of the lip. 

“Nuh-uh, baby.”

Bucky pouted. “Doll, just once more.”

~*~

Sam felt sore like he’d worked out, not exactly from the morning sex, but from the after-morning sex that he couldn’t really refuse, his horny side taking over. Not to mention them coming off of we’re kind of making up right now, too, huh?

Bucky had a way of procuring the most filthy sounds when he begged, dragging Sam into the shower with him, soaping Sam up slowly and kissing each inch of clean skin like a menace, sucking on his damn nipples until he was hard and practically needing to fuck Bucky. Even being hard again that quickly was roulette, but Bucky pushed all the right buttons and made him shoot like a loaded gun.

God, Sam loved the messy side of him, the way they’d stood in the shower, no real conversation except whispers and breath. Sam had held Bucky’s hips as he moaned, bent over, his hands pressed to the wall while fucking back against Sam, begging, telling Sam not to stop. Really, Bucky was doing all the work, but Sam was holding on and coming in his ass in solidarity, unable to really bring his mind back from the point where Bucky had smiled and showed Sam his cum dripping down his muscled thighs.

Sam sort of stared at Bucky, open-mouthed, feeling like he’d been topped and ravaged. The man looked handsome and delicious, well-rested. His hair was combed back, making breakfast in nothing but an apron and briefs. “Doll, ‘sure you okay?” Bucky raised a brow, glancing back over his shoulder.

Shit. Sam realized the smoothie dripping out of his mouth real stupid, making it all the way to his chest. Yep, that sex definitely did something to him that lack of sleep couldn’t.

“Buck-”

Bucky put down the spatula and turned with a serious look.

“I think you fucked the sense out of me,” Sam muttered, dabbing at himself with a napkin.

For a moment, there was silence. He looked back up as Bucky burst into a laugh.

“And that’s funny?” Sam chose to look cross this time. “You know, I could’ve used that hour to sleep in.”

Bucky reached over the island and thumbed a bit of smoothie still in Sam’s goatee, licking his finger.

Sam rolled his eyes, not missing how the apron tugged down and exposed those devious nipples.

“You don’t sleep in, Sam.”

“Fine,” Sam admitted, feeling his cheeks heat as Bucky smiled. “You’re burning the eggs.”

“Shit-”

He smiled, watching Bucky turn to flip over the omelet. They didn’t really say much else as Sam sipped his chocolate avocado shake for real now, noting the array of spices reaching his taste buds.

The stove was turned off, and he finally asked, “Is there a reason this has a ton of ginger and cinnamon?”

Bucky placed an omelet on the second plate, racing a brow, pretending to be innocent. “Uh, hand slipped.”

Sam smiled, tilting his head as the man he’d just made up with, forgiven, and taken hot glances at lied to him. “So you dumped, what, half the bottle, Mr. Knives?”

“Uh, even I slip up sometimes.” Lies. “The powder taste is- um-” Bucky motioned.

“Maca root?” Sam asked, and Bucky visibly swallowed as he nodded. Was that sweat or the steam from the pan? “I’ve been around these gym streets, baby. You feeding me a libido smoothie?”

Bucky bit his lip as he came around the island and sat next to Sam on a stool, serving him an omelet made with random chopped ingredients found in the fridge. The man took waste-not to the extreme.

“Doll, I just… want you to be healthy, and, you know,” he mumbled, cheeks hot as Sam leaned against a fist and smiled. “It’s not a bad thing if being healthy heats things up.”

“A-ha.” Sam smirked, a chuckle under his breath and Bucky smiled shyly. “I love the enthusiasm, but ain’t no way in hell we’re doing doubles every morning.”

Bucky huffed, mumbling, “Sam,” with a pout.

Sam leaned in and kissed his lips, tasting egg and cheese. “Mm, hell no.” He started to break away and Bucky inched off of his stool, enough to pull Sam back into the kiss, earning a moan as he bit Sam’s lip and then trailed lower.

“God, you,” Sam whispered as Bucky kissed under his neck, flush against him, making him realize how thin that apron was. Sam didn’t mean to shudder like a damn porno as Bucky kissed his neck. “Fuck, baby, we can’t-”

Bucky broke away, smirking, as Sam caught his breath. 

“Alright, point made, and still no,” Sam mumbled, turning to his omelet with a glare, pulling his bathrobe closed as Bucky’s eyes trailed to his bulge. They ate for a minute more, and Sam hummed, tapping his fingers on the counter. “We’re okay, right?” 

“I was just wondering if you are,” Bucky admitted.

“But are we?” Sam raised a brow.

“Are you?” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m fine, doll. You’re fine?”

“I’m fine.”

“Great,” Bucky smiled awkwardly, “We’re both fine.”

Sam nodded, the silence sinking in before they laughed. “And we sound like idiots.”

They got up and Sam trailed to the sink to rinse a couple of dishes. Bucky hugged his back, hands around his waist, resting his chin on the fluff of Sam's robe.

“You’re my idiot,” Bucky whispered, and Sam rolled his eyes, scoffing. 

“There is something, though, right?” Sam let the words stretch, not missing the way Bucky’s hands twitched at his abdomen.

Bucky swallowed, the sound heard in Sam’s ear, and then he sighed.

“Remember when you said we should split up?” he asked.

Sam paused, burying the feeling of his stomach twisting, though he was sure Bucky felt his shoulders seize up, hence the arms around him slithering tighter. “Yeah… it was a stupid fight, baby, I assume the make-up sex and weird conversation right now are supposed to be fixing that.”

Bucky huffed. “They are, doll-” He winced. “But it made me think.”

“Uh oh,” Sam mumbled.

“No, good thinking!” Bucky aggressively kissed his cheek. “Mwa. There might be some leads I can get, but… I kind of can’t take you with me.”

Sam turned off the sink, breaking their distance as he turned around slowly, raising a brow. “Oh-kay. You wanna spill?”

They held hands as Sam searched him. The mood didn’t really feel like a fight, and Bucky had this sparkle in his eye reserved for when he was set on something.

“There’s a bar not too far from here, a couple more in New York City,” he said low like it was some secret, “I could ask around, see if I find something out about these guys.”

Sam raised both brows, impressed. “Baby, that’s great. Let’s- Oh-” He tilted his head. “Why can’t I come?”

Bucky groaned, wincing. “I don’t mean to leave you out, doll. It’s not really for-”

“Black folk?” Sam tested, casually.

Bucky visibly paled, stuttering, “Oh, God. No! Not like that!” 

Sam snorted. “I’m kidding, geez.”

He stiffed his laugh as Bucky sighed in relief, looking like he would have a damn heart attack.

Sam grinned, a tad guilty as he rubbed his mismatched hands. “I get it, baby. I can’t come ‘cause the wings aren’t real.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, “It’s kind of mutants only, abnormals…” he motioned with his left hand.

“Winter Soldiers?”

Bucky hummed. “I wasn’t really welcome back in the day… I mean, it kind of spelled that Hydra was in the area, so I don’t blame those people.”

Sam smiled, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Well, you’re different now. Sexy and taken. They better keep their damn hands off you, by the way.”

Bucky moaned into a kiss. “It’ll just be a day or two, and maybe I can find a way to help that jerk you call your brother or, at least, fill in some clues for you.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Sam groaned, resting his head on Bucky’s chest, and Bucky rubbed his back. “But thank you, babe.”

~*~

Delacroix was warm, friendly, and inviting—its usual sunny self, and it was a beautiful day. Sam had to keep reminding himself of that, alone in the cottage like some forties' wife waiting for a handsome Sergeant to return.

He sat on the couch with a family-size bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, staring idly at the flatscreen. I should’ve convinced him to take me. What was it to just hang back and wait in the car, or be back-up, or- ugh.

He should've known it would take longer than a day. It’s not like a romance movie would fill the void. He grumbled, stuffing more Cheetos in his mouth when the doorbell rang, making him flinch because he didn’t even realize the cottage had one.

Sam licked his fingers and then rose slowly and cautiously.

“Sam!” Sarah called out, and he relaxed, tucking his gun into the sofa cushion. Then he went to open the door, finding her standing there leaning into a hip.

“Uh, hey-”

She walked right in, pushing past him and taking the bag out of his hand, peering around the place with an inspector’s eye.

“Sure, have some Cheetos, come right in,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“It’s nice in here,” she approved, eating his Cheetos as he sighed and closed the door, “You moving in for good?”

Sam raised a brow. “Sarah, it’s kind of not ours, this is a rental.”

She paused, eyes scrolling. “Huh… okay.”

Sam sat on the couch, leaning an elbow against the back and folding a leg as she sat down with him. He could take in her full appearance now, and he smiled, eyeing her two plaited braids.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t even say nothing. Maggie’s sick, and you know Carlos’ wife got them shaky hands.”

“I like it, you look ten years younger,” Sam said, and then he grinned, “Or just ten.”

Sarah hit him on the arm and he chuckled, snatching back the bag. He didn’t really wonder what brought her over so early - it was Sarah - like anything could keep her locked out. She raised a brow, staring at the muted TV. “I’m not even gonna ask why you’re watching Gossip Girl with no sound.”

“Don’t spoil nothing,” he squinted at her, and she rolled her eyes, smile round from the side, reminding him of TT, and that took him back. The slight breeze from the ceiling fan touched his shoulders, the wind outside gently cradling the cottage. “You remember TT used to do those patterns on your head? Like the stars, oh, and that heart one.”

“‘Course.” Sarah chuckled. “All the girls would be jealous. I swear couldn’t nobody braid like her. Hair would be good for at least three weeks.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You know, she loved you the most.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “TT loved all of us.”

She smirked. “Please, her little Samuel was the man. ‘Come here, little Samuel, let’s bake this swamp cake.’ ‘Little Samuel, get TT her jean jacket.’ ‘Little Sam, Little Sam.’” She poked him in the ribs.

“Alright!” Sam snapped, brushing her hands away. “Y’all wouldn’t come bake when she called, running off after Ma and Pa, so don’t be big mad.”

“I ain’t big mad,” Sarah shook her head, smiling, staring at the TV with him. “It's just interesting, that’s all. You think she…” she stopped “...nevermind.”

“Oh, now you want to shut up?”

Sarah sighed. “Maybe she knew in some way, I don't know - y’all had a lot in common.”

“Like being depressed?” 

“That ain’t what I meant!” Sarah hit him, and he wrapped her in a retaliatory tight hug that she squirmed under. “I don’t know, the loving who you love, being only a little wild, maybe y’all was soul-tied or something. It's like that sometimes.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled, head on her shoulder, still hugging her.

“Sam, get off…”

“No way, you're mean.”

~*~

“Hey, baby,” Sam said softly into the phone on the couch after pressing answer, rubbing grease on the back of his hands. “Sarah’s here with me.”

“Tell her I-”

“Heck no, I’m just saying don’t say anything weird,” Sam muttered as Sarah rolled her eyes, sitting in front of him on a sofa cushion on the floor, digging into some popcorn.

“Or what?” Bucky asked, and Sam could already see his smirk, “You gonna spank me?”

“Dag, Bucky,” Sarah shook her head, “I thought you were the tame one.”

There was silence as Sam groaned, “Buck, come on!”

“I- Jesus! You didn’t say I was on speaker, ugh…” His voice then changed to an apologetic chipper. “Hey, Sarah. How’s it going?” Queue smile.

“Good, just in the salon,” she replied, grinning and then scowling as Sam popped her on the head with a rattail comb. “My hairdresser is real rude, horrible service.”

Bucky laughed. “Now I gotta see. Hold on-” His voice cut, and Sam raised a brow.

The phone rang again, and he swiped the answer tab, meeting the face of Bucky, eyes bright in the daylight and smiling, stubble growing in just right.

“Damn it, now I miss you,” Sam grumbled, giving him a pout.

“I miss you, too, doll, I’m almost done here, then let’s go out.” He winked.

“Y’all gonna give me a damn toothache,” Sarah rolled her eyes, and Sam popped her again. “Sam, ow!”

Bucky gaped, overly dramatic, trying to earn a point back. “Sam, I’m shocked! We’re trying to keep rumors down.”

Sam scoffed. “Tell that to her, she hit me like four times already.” He shook his head, rubbing grease along her scalp as Bucky watched smiling. “Where you at?” Paused. “If you can tell me.”

Bucky smiled, the sound of dogs barking and people walking behind him, the faint echo of cars. “Prospect Park. Brooklyn.” Sam raised both brows as he sighed. “Gonna see Raynor so she can shut up about it, and, uh, wanting to check out another library.” Sam smiled, replacing library with underground bar.

“Whatcha reading this time?” Sarah asked casually.

Sam winced, starting, “Sarah, leave him alone-” 

“Maya Angelou,” Bucky answered with another wink.

“You better not be bullshitting me.” She chuckled back.

Sam gaped as Bucky moved the phone back from his face and raised a book to his cheek, and then they both laughed, leaving Sam to raise a brow. Eerily, he realized how great at reconnaissance Bucky was, given that he had a complete reason for being in the city, even seeing Raynor. Shit. The government was foolish if they thought his pardon meant they could track him. Bucky was right where he wanted to be, showing the gov what he wanted them to see.

Sarah took the phone as Sam parted her scalp and then cornrowed the last section. She talked to Bucky about poetry and some other literature nerd stuff. Sam stole peeks at his face, smiling as Bucky laughed with her, and a sigh escaped. He’d probably never admit how much he loved both of them being friends. Granted, they were both evil for that, and how dare they… but Sarah’s hearty laugh could lighten a room real easy, and she didn't laugh much these days.

“There,” Sam said, rubbing his hands on a towel, “Finished your big ol’ head.”

“Looks good,” Bucky said, craning his head around the screen as if that would help him to see.

Sarah reached her fingers over her scalp, tracing the rows and Sam took the phone, flipping the camera so Bucky could see the back.

“I love it, it’s like a heart-” Bucky grinned, eyes widening. “Sam, you’re saying you love Sarah!”

Sarah snickered as Sam rolled his eyes, flipping the camera back so Bucky could see how cross he was. “I was forced to do this, Buck. Don’t let her fool you.” She rose from her seat and stretched, seemingly satisfied with the style as she checked her watch.

On queue, the sound of the school bus riding by echoed through the open windows, and she went out to get the boys. Sam watched her leave, and then it was them, alone, as much as you could be on a cellular line.

Bucky smiled, something in his eyes as they both sighed. “I really miss you, doll.”

“Finish up already, so we can do some date stuff like fishing and chill.”

Bucky snorted. “Really selling it to me, love.”

“Nothing’s too dangerous, right? I could fly up.”

“I haven’t put anyone in the hospital.”

“Great, the mark of safety.” Sam narrowed. “Just fill me in when you can. Oh, and I was wondering if the Airbnb is still good. We ain’t overstaying, right?”

Bucky raised both brows, nodding. “Uh, yeah, it’s fine.”

“You sure? Cause you don’t gotta pay extra days, I could stay here at the house and we’ll figure it out when you’re back.”

Bucky chuckled. “We're definitely fine.”

Sam raised a brow. “We are still paying on time, though, right, with our card?”

“Yeah, doll. I gotta go,” he rushed his words, getting up, “It’s fine, stay there, okay? I’ll handle it. Kisses?” 

Sam sighed as Bucky made a kissy face at the screen, and nodded.

“K, baby, save travels,” he quickly blew one back before the doors opened. AJ clamored inside, an elaborate story at his lips about climbing the knotted rope in gym class. Cass sighed, looking years older than he was, given that he'd probably heard it already.

~*~

Dinner that night was more awkward than Sam was used to. Gideon returned with his briefcase and a dark suit, looking much holier than thou. Excuse Sam for being a bit of an asshole while remembering everything about the man that annoyed him.

Gideon stood in the doorway, taking the coat off. “Greetings, family.”

Sarah, Cass, and AJ greeted him back with perfect manners while Sam sort of stared across the table, eating his crab legs more aggressively, the dead crab wondering what the hell was his problem.

“You had a good trip?” Sarah asked.

Sam raised both brows. “Trip?”

“Hello to you, too, brother,” Gideon said, unaffected by the mood as he washed his hands and then took a seat at the table next to Sam, clapping him on the shoulder.

Cass eyed them both funny, looking away to help AJ break a crab leg open with a sigh.

“Where’d you go?” Sam asked quietly as Sarah reached on AJ’s other side, wiping his face with a napkin and shaking her head.

Gideon raised a brow, the only part of his face with hair really. “Doing some travel work.”

“What kind?”

“The Lord’s kind, brother.”

Sam huffed. 

Gideon looked at him confused, but said, “Baptism, Sam, healthy boy born a couple of towns over, they don’t have qualified ministers in the area. What you thinking?”

Sam didn’t mean to glare hard, searching him for hints of green skin. Maybe it was like one of those shiny kids' notebooks where a new image would appear if you rotated the cover and let it catch the light. Gideon eyed him oddly under his squint.

“Y’all better remember what I said,” Sarah warned, and Sam softened his shoulders, turning to AJ who had a plate full of de-shelled crab, looking much happier.

“Uncle Sam, when’s Uncle Bucky gonna come back?” AJ asked.

Gideon pursed his lips.

Sam smiled, answering, “Soon, he’s at the library all the way out of town.”

Cass didn’t look satisfied with that, asking why he couldn’t use the one in town so he could come play. Sam chuckled, mood lifted as they fell into the usual dinner bicker. It helped him forget the unsteady tug at his heart for a moment.

~*~

The crickets were chirping loudly, and it felt like all of the woods were watching as Sam sat on the back porch with a beer in his hand. Sarah was at his right, and Gideon sat on her other side. It was probably best that way because there was an urge to start swinging in Sam, but his brain also kept going through scenarios, situations when he’d seen Gideon years back. He was past, I should have known, and reached the point of, You could have told me.

Nothing pointed to any changes in Gideon It had to be after Sam left when things changed.

“What the hell’s going on with y’all?” Sarah finally asked.

Sam swallowed down a gulp, staring at the grass, holding his beer a little tighter. Gideon didn’t budge, hand on his iced tea.

She sighed. “Great, the one time you both ever want to be quiet.”

Sam tightened. “Ask him, he hates me.”

Gideon rotated his head slightly, and Sam could see the irritation in his eyes clearly with the back porch light on. “For the last time, I don’t hate you, Sam.”

Scoff. “Yeah, like Cain didn’t hate Abel.”

“Jesus-” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“Sarah!” Gideon looked appalled. 

“Y’all are exhausting, and it’s high time y’all fix this. I’m not gonna let Cass and AJ learn how to be wicked to each other in their own home,” she sighed, “There’s enough of that mess in the real world.”

They went silent, and Sam tightened his jaw, only the crickets sounding in their ears. “I don’t want that for them, trust me.” 

Sarah bumped his shoulder. “Well, you’re both their uncles, and they love you.” She looked to her right. “Gid. We get it, Sam is gay, big surprise. I was shocked, too, okay? But, trust me, he’s the same annoying brother. Even the boys like Bucky. They're happy to have a cool Uncle who won’t throw out his back out playing tag.”

Sam brushed off the sting of her tongue, sharp as always. 

Gideon started, hesitating. “Sarah, they could copy that behavior.”

She hit him on the shoulder. “Are you kidding me? With all the shit playing on TV? These cartoons?” She shook her head. “You are too damn old to be believing in catching cooties.” 

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle as she smirked, adding, “And don’t act like we all didn’t find out about TT’s lady lover. Remember she never let nobody go in her treasure trunk when she was alive, turned out-”

“It was filled with letters and trinkets to that woman Dot.” Sam smiled, holding his beer warmly. 

“Exactly, and it didn’t make us love her less,” she added, “We ain't new to this.”

They’d read some of the letters after her passing, and Sam remembered how tender and fond the words were, addressed to Dot, a couple from her, too. There was poetry that showed some talents traveled through blood. Ma hadn’t really known what to do with the rest, so everyone agreed to bury it with TT, it felt like the right thing. I didn’t even know about it. Sam sighed, wondering if TT might have told him had he been older.

“Sal, people talk-”

“Like you on Sunday?” She raised a brow. 

Gideon stuttered.

Sam sipped his beer a little louder, going un-huh. 

“Sal, that ain’t the same. The Lord compelled me to do that, to forgive,” the word made Sam huff.

Sam shook his head, crossing his arms. “Gid, I don’t care if people talk. I’d never let this family get hurt because of me, my job, anything. Shit, I’m surveilling the joint a mile out!” He leaned over Sarah, staring at Gideon directly. “I don’t need your holy protection. You’re acting like it’s solely you that’s divinely favored, and I’m… broken.” 

Gideon scoffed.

“What? Say it. We’re all being open here,” Sam jeered, gritting his teeth.

“Sam, you are favored by Him. You’re special, and that comes with a light that will attract the dark, too.” Gideon met his eyes tightly as Sarah scooted back, making his uncomfortable stare more visible. “I pray I never have to, but I’d stain these hands for you, to protect my broth-”

“God, not this again,” Sam mumbled.

Sarah groaned as well, pushing up from the steps. “I’m out,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, “But I mean it. Get over this.”

They traded ‘Good Nights’, and then she trailed inside, leaving an empty space between them as the screen door creaked shut. They sat in silence. Even with his beer, Sam felt painfully sober as the moon cleared behind the clouds, shining a light on them that neither could hide behind.

“Why do you always say you protected me?” Sam muttered.

Gideon shifted his weight, picking up his bottle of iced tea and taking a swallow. “Because I did. You’re the youngest, Sam, I wasn’t going to let you go through anything I did, especially after…” Pa died.

Sam furrowed his brow, shaking his head. “You couldn’t even stand my friends, and I always felt like they started dropping me after you came back.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Those weren’t all your damn friends. You think people didn’t whisper stuff behind your back? For the simple reason that you were decent”–he turned to face Sam–“It’s hard enough going through what we do without this flying around and-” 

“I don’t care.” Sam got up from his seat and paced off the steps, shaking his head. Pivoting, he held firm eyes as he stared down at Gideon. “You think you’re the only one that would spill blood for me? Bucky would, Bucky has, and he’d do it again.” Sigh, even though Sam insisted against it. “Shit, Gid… you moved across the damn country for love.” Sam tightened. “You know what it’s worth risking. I'll always choose him. Don’t make me lose my damn brother over it.”

There was silence.

“If I haven’t already…” Sam started low, drawing Gideon back with a stunned expression. “Are you really you… or are you something Ryker made?”

Gideon held his surprise.

“I’m not just asking for me. Sarah and the boys’ safety is my responsibility, Gid, and you’ve changed.”

His jaw fell open, mouthing, “Sam…” 

“Is that the reason you can’t accept me? Cause he jacked you up with that Gamma stuff?” Sam sniffed, wiping his eyes, voice breaking, “Or, is this the real you who's treating me like this?”

Gideon rose, dragging him into a hug, and he hated himself for fighting tears while being comforted by someone he wanted to punch so badly, accepting the warm hand at the back of his neck, not used to an unsteady beat in his brother’s chest. 

“How did you find out?” Gideon’s deep voice echoed.

“Does it matter?” Sam sighed, pushing away, but Gideon still held his shoulders, eyes serious. “I’m not some recruit on the ground, Gid, I know people-”

“Sam,” Gideon gripped him tighter, “Whatever you’re looking into, stop.”

“Let me help, I have contacts. Hell, even Banner, I could-”

“Definitely not that! Are you insane!?”

Sam looked confused. “I could try if you’d just let me in-”

“Sam!” Gideon hissed, something wild in his eyes.

Sam blinked, freezing as Gideon breathed heavily, Sam’s shoulders lowering slowly. Sam raised a hand to his jaw, tilting his face up, and he didn’t fight it. Gideon stared at him, maybe angry, scared, pleading. In the moonlight, there was bright green in his irises that Sam had never noticed.

“I’m sorry…” Sam whispered.

Gideon tightened, face scrunched before he let the words out, like he hadn’t said them honestly his whole life, “I’m sorry, too…” He exhaled, and then sighed. “I can’t agree with you, Sam, but I know how to keep the peace.”

Sam didn’t feel satisfied by the words.

“Sal’s right.” Gideon rolled his eyes, considering it probably hurt him to even admit that Sarah might be right. Sam could empathize, imagining her smug face. “I won’t try and force you to behave differently-”

“Behave?” Sam raised a brow, crossing his arms. 

Gideon paused. 

“Look, if we’re gonna make up and play kumbaya, I have terms,” Sam said sharply, “First, Bucky is off-limits, and the same goes for you to him. No fighting, no jabs, whatever. We’re all gonna act like civil adults. Don't start any, there won't be any.”

“Fine.”

“I know it’s fine,” Sam snapped back, a bit childish for it. “Second, no biblical mess and ‘trying to convince me’ weirdness at all. In fact, stop being weird, Gid. I know that’s hard for you, but you better try.”

“That’s all?”

“No calling me out at church. You know I don’t like that on-the-spot stuff.”

Gideon hesitated. “Sam-”

“Gid!”

He growled. “Just try and make it on time, even once! The boys said you been late every Sunday since last year!”

Sam felt his cheeks heat, turning around and crossing his arms. Not my fault my boyfriend isn’t a morning person. “I’ll try, God-” He paused, feeling Gideon tighten as he corrected, “Gosh.”

“And we need to separate,” Sam added quieter.

“Agreed.”

They both sighed, and Sam felt a pang of sadness hit his chest, asking, “Why’d you do it… the stuff with Ryker?”

Gideon lowered, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

There was the faint shout of Sarah telling one of the boys to go to bed. Sam turned back around. “I would if you’d let me.”

“Then that’s my term, Sam, that you leave it the hell alone, and you keep this away from the family.”

Sam hesitated. “Just- come over tonight, I’m staying down the road, and let’s talk about this, sit with it, figure out what- what’s going on- and-”

This time, a dry chuckle escaped Gideon and he shook his head, confusing Sam further. “That’s your kumbaya? Inviting me to that man’s home I ain’t welcome in.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Rule of being rude already broken. Gid, it’s just a rental-”

Gideon’s brow twitched.

“Is that a problem?”

“Last I checked- never mind, keeping peace.”

Sam’s gut pinched, and he took a step closer. “Checked what? What are you on about, and I better not dislike it, I swear-”

“Samuel, come on.” Gideon looked at him funny. “I know you’re not about to tell me you don’t know he owns the damn roof you’re staying under?”

Sam widened like a deer in headlights. He what?

“Lord…” 

***

Chapter 11: Peace

Summary:

Sam spends time at the restaurant, and asks about the cottage.

Explicit

Notes:

*laughs in plot-set up*

Say what you want about Gideon, he was a man of his word. By Sunday, he’d moved out faster than Moses parted the sea. Separate didn’t seem to be an issue at all, but it made Sam raise a brow while sitting at the breakfast table with the family.

“So, you’re gone for good?” Sam asked quietly. 

“I’m not leaving across the country, brother, don’t look so excited,” Gideon answered, calmly wiping his hands on his napkin as Sam’s face twitched in an annoyed smile.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “He’s renting a place in town, close to the restaurant and church - figured he’d tell you himself.” Well, he hadn’t. 

Sam’s knee bounced under the table, and he shook his head. “Nope, didn’t. How are you gonna pay for it? You need help, or-”

Gideon pursed his face. “Sam, you know Pa always said don’t talk about money over breakfast.” He shook his head in disbelief. “That goes for you boys, too, a life lesson.”

AJ blinked, confused while Cass merely shrugged. 

Sarah gaped. “That ain’t what he said! It was, ‘Don’t leave no bills left by the morning.’” She rolled her eyes again. “You getting senile, Gideon.”

“What’s see-nile?” AJ asked.

“It means old,” Cass said to him.

Sam couldn’t help but laugh as Gideon said firmly and defiantly that with age comes wisdom. “So, you working with the church?” Sam guessed, eyes probing.

Gideon folded his hands. “By His will, one of the ministers has needed leave to support his family, so I’ll be there every week and you can see me in His house.”

“Or not,” Sam mumbled with a smirk, quiet enough as he leaned in, “Might oversleep.”

Gideon looked incredulous, taking a great sigh as he rose from his seat. “Well, you’re always welcome to come over and brush up on the word when you’re not asleep.”

Gideon took his dish and glass to the sink as Sam eyed Sarah. She merely shrugged. He thanked them for the meal, and then took heavy steps to the door, selecting his long black duster from the coat rack, and his suitcase. The door shut behind him, the Cadillac roared to life, and he was gone like a passing storm.

Sam felt the silence sink in as Sarah started to clear the table. “Get ready for church, y’all, wash your hands before touching your good clothes.”

The boys left the table and Sam helped her with the dishes.

“What’s that look?” Sarah asked, seeing him furrow over the sink.

“Just thinking-” Sam mumbled, and then he sighed. No point in beating around it. He’d scoured through every drawer in the cottage overnight and found the property owner’s documents addressed to James Barnes, and under it rights to the land signed to Sarah Wilson. “-bout how neither you nor Bucky wanted to tell me about the cottage.”

Sarah looked surprised and then sighed, face apologetic. He dried his hands on a dishrag, making sure to put on the saddest face he could muster as he turned to her.

“Sam, my bad,” she said, giving in to the puppy look, “I knew it wasn’t a good idea not to tell you, but, have you ever tried saying no to Bucky? He literally never asks for anything.”

Shit.

Sam could picture it already. Bucky giving those big blue eyes and a pout, and somehow imagining that begging face pissed Sam off more than being in the dark. That was Sam’s face. He couldn’t be giving any ole’ body that cute face. 

“Next time, say no, or I’m suspending y’all’s little friendship.”

A laugh escaped her. “Really? You are so petty, Sam.” She shook her head, still grinning. 

“Only when my damn boyfriend and sister are sneaking off behind my back signing documents. Y’all danced in the woods under the moonlight yet? Been sworn in to the witch book club?”

“Wow, so dramatic.” Sarah grinned, not answering.

Sam finally let the mood down and grumbled, “I should have realized.” He leaned on the counter, fiddling with a paperweight shaped like a boat. “It’s so close to home, it’s practically on our property.”

The Wilson land did extend well past the trees, except they hadn’t built anything new on it for years.

“Well, all I did was make a phone call and sign a paper, Sam, the rest was him and not my business. If you want to know more, you both gotta talk it out. No tussling-”

“He’s my boyfriend, Sarah, why would we fight?”

She pursed her lips and he crossed his arms in defense. Sparring didn’t count, and he really wished she would shut up, her and whoever else was probably whispering mess to the wind about him.

“Look, the way y’all Wilson men have been tussling, I’m just reminding you.” An eye roll as she muttered, “Can’t believe y’all was really tussling…”

“If you say tussling one more time.” Sam squinted.

Sarah smirked.

~*~

Sunday mass went by in sort of a blur, Sam not really wanting to pay attention to the lector. He stood up and gave an encouraging smile when Cass stood next to Tate and sang with the choir. It made Sam proud, thinking he looked like a handsome young man in those robes, and he couldn’t really remember the rest. The lecture was something about social media and how everyone should make time for their families before they spend it sending pictures on “The insta book,” and no one bothered to correct the Reverend. 

After church, he helped Sarah open up the restaurant for the influx of regulars who loved her cherry pie and peach cobbler, toted as family recipes but, really, Sam had perfected them with some internet tips. Sarah had cooking down pat but baking was Sam's domain. That was probably a secret they’d keep between each other until the end of time. He couldn’t tell you who he smiled at and greeted behind the counter, nodding, going through the motions. 

The door chimed a few times before Sarah propped it open with a doorstop, but through it never came the person he wanted to see most. 

It sounded ridiculous, but sometimes on longer trips apart, Sam would think about tracking Bucky down before the signing of the Accords, way back before 2016. Before Zemo killed his now good friend’s father and blamed his now boyfriend and how simple just looking for a ghost felt.

In reality, finding that ghost was like a strenuous series of following clues and notes that Scooby-Doo marathons nor specialized training could prepare Sam for. Bucky either wanted to be found, or not, and the moments when he didn’t he left no traces. Sam almost gave up before Bucky knocked on his hotel door in Athens, face nervous, and only when Sam realized it wasn’t an assassination attempt did Bucky shyly ask, “Do you want to get coffee?”

Sam had nodded slowly, and Bucky seemed relieved and then closed his door. When Sam opened it again, coming to his senses, realizing he’d just let go the man he was tracking on Steve-fucking-Rogers promise, the hallway was empty.

Sam remembered feeling as though he imagined that interaction, like the wine from the mini bar in the hotel was stronger than he thought. But Bucky left clues that he was traveling to Cairo when Natasha pinged. The day that Sam landed in Cairo and got settled in a hostel, Bucky appeared next to him on the streets, face in a blush.

Looking back, Sam had no idea how he’d managed to be that calm, even asking why Bucky wanted to do coffee, on half as much sleep as now. Bucky had said nervously that he couldn’t remember the customs - that some stuff only worked in ‘soldier mode’ like specific languages, but he didn’t know Arabic well himself, citing frustration with the different dialects. Sam had ordered coffee and pastries for both of them in a shop, tossing a coin to a street performer so that he’d play his instruments closer by, and they sat in silence, not really saying anything else, but Sam felt calm with him.

That made sense. Even back then, Bucky’s presence could ground him - not the killer-mode Bucky, or the Brooklyn ready to knock some asshole’s lights out Bucky, but, Bucky, just Bucky.

“Hey, take a break,” Sarah said, patting him on the shoulder.

Sam blinked, realizing he was staring into the open doorway from the counter like a statue, probably confusing anyone who might have wanted to come inside. Those enjoying their food at the tables didn’t seem to pay him any mind. 

“My bad, ‘Rah.”

“You looked tired in Church,” she said quieter with a smirk, “Didn’t roll your eyes once at Gid.”

Sam chuckled, pushing out of his lean as he met her not-quite concerned face. “I probably just need a nap, but I’ll take one later.” 

Pursed lips met him, but she merely shrugged, going back into the kitchen to unwrap her apron since clearly one of them would take a break if the other wouldn’t. Sam didn’t mind, he simply resumed his position, rolling his stiff shoulders, much more conscious now. Just another day, right? Or, two? 

“Knock it off!”

Sam woke up fully, eyes finding Cass at a corner table with a stunned AJ. He approached them as AJ then got upset. “You promised we would play-”

“I don’t care, stop being so needy,” Cass snapped.

Sam raised both brows surprised, their faces changing as he squatted between them, pretending he didn’t see a couple of nosy old folk glancing over. Seriously, this town. 

“Hey, boys, what’s going on?” Sam asked gently, a hand on both of their chairs. They both went quiet, AJ crossing his arms in a huff. “Well?”

“Cass promised we’d play ninja and now he’s being a big fat liar-”

“And you’re being a baby-”

“Alright,” Sam interrupted, “Both of y’all can speak more respectfully. Let’s get some air, can we do that?”

They both stared at each other and then nodded, faces in a pout. Sam sighed and smiled, guiding both of them up, the three cleaning up their plates as Sarah came back in, laughing with Tonya, and behind her followed Tate, waving to Cass.

Cass gave him a curt look, and then he left first out the side door. Tonya sat down, ushering Tate into a booth as she continued to chat Sarah’s ear away.

“I’m gonna take a break with the boys, they’re a little restless-” Sam said quickly, and Sarah nodded, listening to both of them at the same time, even putting down napkin sets as she did.

And then Sam guided AJ out, eyes searching for Cass. He was sitting on a wooden bench swinging his legs back and forth, looking like he held the world on his shoulders.

Sam sighed, following Cass to the bench as AJ picked up a couple of pebbles and tossed them over the edge of the dock. 

“Careful,” Sam reminded AJ, and then he looked at Cass with both brows knit together, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder as he asked, “You alright?” 

“Just don’t feel like playing,” Cass mumbled.

Sam nodded, keeping calm himself, but he couldn’t help reading into Cass’s slumped posture, the pout he held, the sigh he took. “I know AJ can be energetic, but he’s still your brother, okay? He means well.”

Cass blinked and gave a nod, which made Sam lower his own shoulders, motioning AJ over, slowly taking the pebbles from his hands.

“Uncle Sam, I didn’t mean to say Cass’s a liar,” AJ muttered, “Even if he promised.”

Sam sighed and smiled. “Did you promise, Cass?”

Cass huffed. “Yeah, but that’s when I was up to it, and now I’m not.”

“That’s okay,” he said to both of them, eyes reaching theirs, “Plans change, and maybe we can promise to just do our best but know everything’s not set in stone, right?”

“Like Medusa,” AJ noted.

“Exactly, though that’s not what I meant,” Sam chuckled as AJ grinned, wondering when he’d even had time to learn more myths and tales. “You’re brothers. I need you to be patient with each other and communicate. Cass, you can tell AJ if you don’t feel great, and AJ, you can listen. Same goes if you switcheroo that or, whatever-” Sam motioned with his hands for vice versa and they nodded.

They all took a deep breath as Sam instructed, cool like the waves. 

“Uncle Sam,” AJ asked, “Can I play with Uncle Bucky instead, then?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sam said, looking at him confused.

“Okay!” And then AJ sped off, and Sam gaped, starting, “I didn’t mean- Ah- Nevermind-” Sam sighed, rubbing his head as Cass chuckled a little.

Sam gave Cass a smile, relieved to even see him smiling again, his mood seeming to come back.

“You sure you’re alright?” Sam asked carefully. “I know you have something on your mind, and if you want to talk, I’ve got you, Cass. Even if it feels small, I’ll listen.” He smiled. “Sometimes even the small stuff can chip away at us like a hammer.”

“That’s how they made statues,” Cass mumbled, “Hitting stone with little hammers.”

“Yeah-”

“Except if the statue-makers didn’t do it right, then the King of England could banish them from the country-”

“Not really where I was going-” Sam said with an alarmed smile. “Maybe let’s get off those history channel cartoons for a while and watch, uh, Scooby-Doo, okay?” If that show was still on TV.

Cass gave him a shrug, and then asked, “Can I go play with Uncle Bucky, too?”

Sam blinked, and Cass turned on the bench, pointing behind them toward the parking lot.

“Sure,” Sam responded, heart picking up as he met the image of AJ on Bucky’s shoulders as he pretended to falter under AJ’s make-believe super-strength. Cass left Sam in his trance as he ran over, a wide smile as he greeted Bucky, and then they both were pulling his arms, asking a bunch of questions. “Bucky?”

Bucky flinched as though he heard Sam even from his distance, and he winked, mouthing something that Sam couldn’t make out. Hey, hot stuff? Still, it made Sam’s heart flutter as though he heard it right next to him.

Immediately, his eyes inspected Bucky from head to toe. Not a hair was out of place, and Bucky wore a dark outfit, long sleeve henley, jeans, and a leather jacket, hair flying all over in the breeze. He had dark circles under his eyes that made Sam squint as he pushed up from the bench and approached, Falcon senses tingling.

“Mind if I talk to him, guys?” Sam asked, eyes locked onto Bucky, a few feet from their human pyramid. 

AJ huffed, lowering to the ground. “Uncle Sam, you always hog Uncle Bucky.”

Sam scoffed, motioning them aside with a tinge of snark in his voice. “That’s right, he’s my Bucky, and I’m gonna hog him all I want.”

Cass and AJ grumbled and rolled their eyes as Sarah called them from the restaurant door, something about dessert, and, “Why are y’all playing in them good clothes!” Then they were scrambling back, racing each other to the door as Sarah sighed, exasperated.

“Hey,” Bucky finally huffed as they were alone. Sam touched his jacket, brushing dust off. This was definitely Bucky, and he smelled the same, though he also smelled like traveling and - fuck it, Sam pushed his hands right inside his open jacket and hugged him tightly, face pressed to his chest. “Doll?”

“Shut up, I was practically a hostage this whole time,” Sam muttered. 

Bucky laughed, hands rubbing his back, voice straining, “Safe with your family?”

“You bet, they made me open up shop, sit through church, cook dinner-” 

“More like stuff you volunteered to do,” Bucky whispered, sounding like he was far away.

Sam suddenly stepped back, hands still on Bucky’s ribs as he realized how raspy Bucky was breathing, twitching with a weird posture. “Before you ask, I’m fine-”

Sam eyed him very confused. “Baby… are you hurt right now?”

“Ribs,” he whispered, “But it’s healing.”

Sam suppressed the urge to rip his shirt right off and examine him. Instead, he turned on foot, cursing under his breath, a newfound rage filling him. Coffee in Cairo? Dirty dancing in Madripoor? Boat date over the Louisiana water? Those romantic pictures burned like a match set to polaroids. Did this man have a death wish? Was he insane, coming back to Sam with a- hold up. Why the hell is he playing with the kids while injured?

Ugh, Bucky! Sam growled under his breath, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Uh, Sam? Restaurant?”

Sam looked back at him. “Hell no, we’re going to the damn ER, get over here.”

Bucky hesitated. “They’re serving cherry pie.”

“Bucky,” Sam said with feral eyes and a smile, the one he never used, “Get in my truck now.”

~*~

Dr. Nyongo tapped her clipboard, eyeing Sam and Bucky suspiciously. “You’re going to say more superhero stuff, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine now, really-”

“Ignore him when he does that,” Sam muttered, holding Bucky’s hand tightly, “Is he alright?” After the examination, check-up, and x-ray to make sure nothing was broken.

She sighed and nodded. “As much as I can understand and observe, yes. Granted, I’ve never seen sprained ribs healing so quickly, and, of course, thank you for the medical notes”-she smiled-“It’s not every day I get to treat someone like you.”

Bucky gave a polite nod as Sam squinted, daring him to say something sarcastic.

Nyongo shifted. “Ah, well, like any human with this prognosis, I recommend rest and no strenuous activity until you’re healed, which I understand may be within one day?” According to Banner.

Bucky groaned in defeat, “A whole day,” shoulders falling.

Sam felt his face redden so deeply that he was sure Nyongo could see it under the bright ER ceiling lights. He couldn’t meet her confused look, half out of shame, somehow feeling like them sitting there was his fault, too, since they both seemed to be fools that couldn’t keep out of the hospital.

“I can’t like- I don’t know- be a little active-” Bucky muttered, motioning with a hand. 

“Mr. Barnes,” Nyongo said with narrowed eyes, “It’s one day of rest. Like a vacation day.”

This time, Sam laughed, eyes apologetic as she grew even more confused, but he couldn’t stop. Soaking in that this was him already on vacation with his boyfriend who looked upset that they probably wouldn’t have reunion sex, and Jesus, this was Sam’s life, this was really his life.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he rests,” Sam assured her.

Nyongo didn’t look convinced, but sighed, offering to dismiss them both. It probably didn’t help their case that Sam was being observed as well, but in his defense, it was a follow-up to check his healed body, and he passed it with flying colors. Extra points for having no bruises on his damn ribs of all places.

Sam kept a hand on Bucky’s fallen shoulders as they walked to the truck as if making sure he wouldn’t suddenly disappear, and that he was in fact still there. In Bucky’s hand was a prescription bag with cream for any pain and medicine that may have been strong enough to work for him. The whole thing was sort of touch and go but Sam appreciated the doctor’s enthusiasm and how she waited for Banner to digitally part with a general file, to boot, with some instructions on it.

Banner wasn’t happy on the phone to hear Sam even ask him for it, mostly because he had just said goodbye to them at the tower a few days ago, but the rest of his questions were wanting to make sure they were alright.

Sam smiled, knowing that even with Bucky bruised up, he was so glad to have him back. “I don’t know how you just lifted two damn kids with sprained ribs,” Sam added, opening the door to the passenger seat.

Bucky huffed as they helped him in. “I’m not made of glass slippers, doll.”

Sam rolled his eyes, going around the other side, and then replying, “Not the point.” He snuck in a quick peck on the lips as he started the engine, and Bucky smiled. “I’m still upset, and welcome back, and I love you”–he kissed him again, longer this time, lips smacking lightly as he broke away–”but I’m gonna need lots of details as to why the hell you’re bruised up and who I need to go after.”

Bucky laughed, wincing with regret and then taking a breath. “It’s my own fault, darling.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Sam muttered, shaking his head as he turned onto the long road home, one hand holding Bucky’s as the breeze whipped through the open windows, dispelling all of the tension in the air.

Finally, Bucky sighed as they pulled onto a patch of grass outside of the cottage, and it made Sam realize how unfinished it looked on the outside. The exterior was rather unassuming, and, really, that was kind of Bucky’s style. Sam would’ve driven right past it if not knowing it was now his boyfriend’s literal home.

There was silence between them as Sam climbed out first, waiting for Bucky to get out with heavy breaths.

“God…” Sam grumbled.

“I know right,” Bucky muttered, “We’ll have to get really creative with the sex tonight.”

Sam dropped the keys, shocked. “You come to me practically in pieces and think you’re getting the works with a cherry on top?” He shook his damn head. “I’ve been spoiling you.”

Bucky laughed, then coughed. “I would have liked some cherry pie, you know.”

Sigh.

Sam unlocked the door and opened it, waiting for him to come in, the look between them sort of gentle and soft despite the bickers.

“Welcome home,” Sam said as Bucky reached for his shoes, not missing how the words made him pause. “I got it, baby, sit down.”

Bucky did, plopping down on the ottoman by the door as Sam squatted and untied his boots before sliding one off.

“Were you alright, alone?” Bucky asked ambiently, “Nothing weird with uh… him?”

Sam nodded, placing the boot next to his shoes.

“Yeah, and I didn’t mean to pull your leg about the Airbnb thing,” Sam said, untying the other boot as Bucky went silent. “The owner came by. She was pretty nice, real professional, too.”

“D-did she?” A swallow. 

Rising from his squat, Sam went, uh-huh, putting on a casual face that his entire drama club would have been cackling at had they watched. Damn, if Leila could see him brush his thighs and cross the room to turn on the sink as Bucky tried not to squirm.

“Yep,” Sam called back at him, washing his hands with coconut soap, his favorite scent, mind you, that just happened to be in an ‘Airbnb’. Stupid Sam, figuring the owner had great taste. Yeah, the owner's boyfriend’s taste. 

“She came to collect some back pay,” Sam added, casually.

Bucky followed Sam to the counter as he dried his hands, motioning for Bucky to use the hot water and wash his own hands. “Back pay? Why?”

Sam hummed. “Said the card didn’t go through. I don’t know, guess that happens sometimes.” Shrug. “So I paid her, and she left.”

Pause. Bucky stopped the sink, face twitching a little. “You paid her? W-what did she look like?”

Sam gave a gentle laugh. “Baby, you don’t remember her? She described you to a T!” He patted Bucky’s stiff shoulder gently, then opened the fridge as Bucky visibly tightened. “I didn’t know the rent was so much, though. A day was like a grand.”

Bucky widened.

“So, I gave her like two grand-”

“Sam!” Bucky broke, and Sam didn’t, instead, raising two brows as he feigned surprise.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, batting his lashes.

Bucky froze, eyes flitting between - lies? - maybe. Then he sighed and sat down on a stool at the island, right hand rubbing through his hair. “Sam, I think you got scammed.”

Sam gasped. “What! How?”

“I- I wasn’t renting the place,” Bucky muttered, eyes scrolling over the counter, the wrinkles in his face relaxing completely as he recognized the papers in front of him. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you are an asshole.”

Sam let out a loud laugh, smacking his hands against his thighs as Bucky stared at the owner’s documents with his own name on them, face in disbelief.

“Sam, Christ on a damn sandwich, you couldn’t just tell me you knew!?” Bucky shouted in a whine, then wincing as he raised the papers and shook them.

Sam snickered, choking on his too-sweet lemonade, courtesy of AJ. Bucky groaned again, waiting for him to lower the glass.

“Like you told me?” Sam asked, voice serious now as he poured Bucky a glass of water.

That did it, and Bucky went silent with the longest pout, eyes sad and big. Sam shook his head. Ridiculous. No wonder Sarah didn’t crack. Who the hell could say no to that soft face? 

“Exactly. Meds.”

Bucky grumbled, accepting the glass as he unwrapped the prescription bag, reading before he mouthed two pills and swallowed. Sam rewarded the gesture by filling the glass again with too-sweet lemonade, and Bucky choked as well. “AJ?”

“Don’t knock him, he might be the next Wilson chef.”

Bucky’s eyes watered. “My bet's on Cass.”

They almost laughed, Bucky remembering that his torso hated him, and Sam went behind him and peeled the jacket off of his arms slowly. “May as well shower now,” Sam muttered, tossing the jacket over a chair. Bucky’s cheeks flushed with interest. “Alone.”

“I- I might fall,” Bucky argued, “Or, get dizzy.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Do you feel dizzy? We can go back to the ER, stay overnight, let me call Nyo-”

“Sam!”

Huff. “Bucky, I just-” He groaned, then shouted, “Why didn’t you tell me!?”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you, darling. It was spur of the moment. I heard from Sarah talking to Tonya and Tonya was talking to the Goodes and basically, they needed money, and I would have just given it to them, but you know this town is kind of weird about that-”

“Cause everything isn’t a damn transaction.” Sam glared. “This ain’t the forties, and you better not have-”

“I didn’t! Pinky swear!” Bucky raised a solemn hand, albeit one pinky up. “It got me thinking, and well I heard from Sarah they might sell part of their land to strangers. Sarah would have been willing to buy some to help, but… of course, money.”

Sam sighed. Always, money.

“Darling, I don’t care about money if I can help. This is a good plot and the cottage was basically abandoned but it has good bones. I just pitched the… idea.”

“So, you got her to buy it,” Sam mumbled, deciphering his jumbles, crossing his arms, “Cause’ the Goodes weren’t gonna trust some cutie from Brooklyn even if he’s a Wilson permanent guest.” And, well, that made sense as to why Sam hadn’t known about it. The Goodes were quiet, proud folk - meaning they were old and never really left their property. “When did you even do this?”

Bucky muttered, “During that third press tour…”

“Oh, now I can’t stand you.” Sam pointed at the door. “Get out.”

Bucky held in his laugh, groaning. This time, he stood up as Sam motioned him into the bedroom, no real connotation behind the gesture despite his hopeful, shameless eyes. 

“You flipped it with contractors, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have minded doing it myself, but… mission stuff. I got a firm in town to do it.”

“No one thought it was suspicious?” Sam asked, going into the bathroom to set a hot shower. He came back out, raising a brow.

“Well,” Bucky thought, “Sarah did some talking, too… the place may as well be a potential Airbnb or guest house or… yeah. I just seemed like the guy with some design knowledge.” He sighed. “Look, Sam, I didn’t mean to go behind your back. At bad, this would just be somewhere I can stay so I wouldn’t impose on your family, and of course, what’s mine is yours. At worst… you hate the idea, and Sarah can do an Airbnb with it for some extra income. The land’s hers.”

“The house is yours.” Sam furrowed, standing with him by the hamper as he fiddled with his jean zipper, then pausing. 

“It’s nothing to sign it over… I just, again, didn’t want to impose on your family. That was then. Now is different Sam. I love everyone, and if you want to go back-”

“Bucky…” He closed his mouth shut as Sam smiled, eyes glistening. Sam looked at him and stressed, “You are my family.” 

The words hung in the air as Sam composed himself, and Bucky stood stunned, eyes widening, whispering, “You- too- me- Sam-” He embraced Sam, not caring if it hurt, closing his eyes as Sam pressed against his chest. They both had to silently break away when Bucky couldn't breathe.

“Please keep it, I want to stay here with you. I love it, I love this for us.” Sam smiled, wiping a tear. “I’m not mad, just surprised, but it’s the best surprise I could ask for, and if your foolish ass hadn’t come back with damn-near broken ribs, I’d be sucking your dick like it’s your birthday.”

Bucky gasped aloud. “Oh God, they’re just sprained! Please, Sam-”

Sam scoffed, unzipping Bucky’s pants for him. “Hell no. Shower.”

~*~

Sam wondered if showering together in a love nest without doing anything was some kind of worst nightmare for Bucky, the man who’d clearly designed the place to be as sexually efficient as possible. 

Large, dark tiles on three sides, glass door on the fourth side. Standing room for three, not that they’d need a third. There was a bench that was pulled out from the wall, too. Shoot, he’d even had accessibility in mind, don’t say the man wasn’t woke. The shower smelled like rainforest from the scent of the wash Sam chose, a relaxing blend.

“You know, it’s making sense now, this shower is big enough to fuck in,” Sam commented.

Bucky groaned, half-hard, sitting as Sam rubbed his calves up to his thighs with a loofah. “Such a tease, I can’t believe I did something right and now I’m being punished for it.”

“Must be hard suffering from success,” Sam quipped, looking down at him with a smile. Bucky bit both lips, face flushed and wanting as he steadied his breaths. “Baby, you okay?” 

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes closing halfway as he admitted, “Came straight here… didn’t really sleep.”

Sam sighed, figuring as much with the energy spurts Bucky had between them bickering, as if those interactions were the only thing keeping him upright. Being super couldn’t recover certain things. Everyone needed sleep, food, water, and a handsome Sam to cuddle at night.

“I couldn’t sleep, either,” Sam mumbled, “Been in like the twilight zone or something.” He started to move the loofah again up Bucky's thighs, and Bucky leaned against the wall, accepting that Sam would take care of him for this short time. 

Fine. Maybe Sam had exaggerated and knew that Bucky’s ribs would be healed probably tomorrow since they’d already started. That didn’t mean seeing Bucky in even the slightest pain didn’t pull at his strings, especially after being out on Sam’s behalf, trying to help him. Bucky sighed and moaned as Sam stood and scrubbed his hair with shampoo, mumbling that it felt good. 

“Let’s just do every mission ever together,” Sam mumbled, “And never go on separate vacations.”

Bucky almost peeked his eyes open, smiling as Sam took a hose from the wall and rinsed him off. “Doll, we are way past that.”

“Yeah, but apparently I’m a forties' spouse that can’t be without you for a damn leisurely weekend. I was about to start watching As The World Turns, and before that, it was Gossip Girl.”

Bucky snorted, managing to keep his laugh stifled, and then he watched Sam soap himself up and shower through blinks. Sam sighed, rotating his neck as the water ran down his back. He pumped some soap and washed slowly, hot in his stomach as he felt Bucky’s eyes lick every inch of him.

“You’re hard,” Bucky noted the obvious.

“Ignore it,” Sam muttered with a breath, the pressure demanding attention as he turned away, biting both lips. He felt Bucky stand up slowly behind him, whispering in his ear, “Let me get your back.”

“No,” Sam moaned out, “Your-”

Bucky reached around and took the loofah, hand brushing Sam’s hip and Sam didn’t mean to stutter. A groan escaped Sam as Bucky scrubbed him slowly, a breathy smile heard. “God, you want it, too.”

Sam managed defiantly, “I-It doesn’t matter, we have to wait.”

~*~

That was lies, and liars went to hell, and Sam was probably going to hell now because Bucky was laying on the bed, jaw agape as Sam licked him right up the shaft, Bucky letting out an encouraging moan. Shit, Sam had to ask, “Do you think we’re going to hell?”

Bucky stuttered as Sam mouthed his tip again, seemingly waiting for a response with his brown eyes wide. Never mind that Bucky could probably come from the image alone. “Probably, I mean- I wasn’t exactly on the nice list even if- Oh, Christ, doll.”

Sam paused. “If what?”

“Sam, don’t stop,” he moaned.

“My bad,” Sam chuckled and then relaxed his jaw again, sucking Bucky halfway as he keened, jaw falling open, eyes rolling as he managed to keep conversation with impressive multitasking skill.

“Doll, even before the soldier stuff, I was kind of a bad egg- So-” He shivered. “Yeah, like that-”

Sam massaged his sack, and Bucky released a stuttered breath, wincing a little, and Sam let up the pressure, tasting precum in his mouth as he raised a brow. You good?

Bucky groaned. “I’m okay. I just mean that heaven and hell stuff is too uncertain for me. You’re my angel, darling, of course you’re getting a good place, but the rest of us are in the gray.”

Sam hummed in thought, removing his mouth and then stroking them both. “It is kind of a loaded question,” he admitted, taking a place straddled on Bucky’s thighs as they both caught their breath. “Sure you aren’t in pain?”

“These meds are the good shit, Sam.”

Sam sighed and smiled, taking the not-answer as he lowered himself and lined them up with a hand. Bucky moaned in anticipation and then Sam stroked along both of their shafts, slick from saliva, precum, and lubricant on his palm. They both sighed and Bucky’s jaw fell. There was breathy silence and then he whispered, “Even if there’s some life after this, doll, I’d find you there and be with you.”

“Fuck, I’m coming,” Sam whispered back, eyes glossing, “But same, babe.”

Bucky coughed out a laugh, wincing and then face tightening as he approached the edge himself, pleasure and medication rising above the pain, heat flowing through him. “Same? That’s it?”

Sam shuddered, beautiful and glistening like a work of art, leaning over Bucky. His face fell undone as he came in long, hot streams, a liquid moan leaving him. “Yeah, baby, oh God,” Sam moaned again, “I love you in every fucking universe, okay?”

“Doll-” Bucky gasped as Sam’s hand continued, squeezing him at just the right pressure, and Bucky unraveled, messying his own stomach, their bits of cum mixing together. 

They came down slowly, faces revealing how tired they were as Sam collapsed next to Bucky with a sigh. “I-I’m gonna clean up-”

“Same,” Bucky whispered in a copying tone.

“Oh, fuck you.”

Scoff. “Fuck me yourself, doll. I can take it like right now,” Bucky retorted in a very serious tone, turning his head to the side as Sam laughed, delirious.

“No way, ride is closed. I’m gonna nap-”

“Sleep?”

“Nap, and you’re gonna rest, and we’ll sort the - the mission stuff after the nap,” Sam felt his words growing jumbled as he leaned up slowly, reaching for a package of wet wipes. “There is stuff, right?”

Bucky nodded, face dark, and then horny again as if Sam had imagined it. He was too sleepy to really process it, starting to yawn. A smile met him as he wiped Bucky clean, then reached for the pain cream. Bucky might have said he got it, but Sam shook his head, using his last wind to smear a small amount gently over Bucky’s chest and rub it in, then finding them both underwear and a tank top for Bucky to help the cream absorb. 

Sam eyed him sleepily, crossing the room to pull the curtains closed, coming back to find Bucky sitting up slightly, wearing the tank, right hand touching his arm with purpose. Sam didn’t mean to raise both brows and stare so hard as Bucky’s arm glowed and then unlatched. It didn’t seem uncomfortable, maybe a bit disorienting at best. Bucky took a sigh and fell back down onto the bed.

“I could’ve-” Sam let his words go, helped? “I don’t know- You okay?”

“Yeah, could be the mild concussion, it’s just a little heavy at the moment.”

Silence.

“Sam, I’m kidding.”

Sam exhaled, feeling like his heart had stopped as he plopped down onto the bed, pushing away the possibility that Bucky was more hurt. “God, I swear if I could unsuck your dick right now.” 

Bucky snorted, finding a place for his arm on the nightstand, a wild grin. “Doll, it’s a joke!”

It really did throw Sam off, too. Bucky didn’t always casually unsnap his arm, but sometimes he did, and the action activated a reboot in Sam’s head remembering that billions of Wakandan dollars could just pop right off, and- well, technically, his wings did the same thing-

“Sam, don’t be weird-”

“I’m not!” Sam groaned, falling into him, minus a few inches to avoid his chest. You couldn’t cuddle a man while completely avoiding his chest, but having space where his shoulder was a second ago helped. Sam lined a pillow up between their torsos just in case his unconscious brain decided to sleep wildly. “I’d never. I want you to be comfortable with me,” Sam mumbled, eyes closed, a hand reaching over to rub Bucky’s stomach, knee over his hip. 

Bucky tangled their fingers together, leaning over to kiss Sam’s sleepy face once. “I am, doll, more than you know,” he whispered, sighing as he felt Sam drift off, body completely still the way it could be when he was exhausted.

Bucky stared at his forehead, rubbing circles into Sam’s hand, their skin warm together, letting the sound of snores carry him away to a restful peace in what was now their home. Peace, that was definitely what you might call the softness of a moment before he’d have to break his heart with the information he found. That could wait for at least a long nap, and maybe a few more kisses.

***

Chapter 12: Cottage

Summary:

Sarah brings up a concern. Sam and Bucky plan their next move.

Explicit

Sam stood in the doorway with a mug of coffee, watching Bucky sleep soundly like a man who hadn’t for hours. Had he? Was it that on the last night he came straight home or was he operating on auto-pilot the whole weekend, punching bad guys in an interrogation effort for Sam? 

Ugh, that was concerning to imagine.

I should’ve asked, Sam thought glumly, instead of getting distracted with the cottage and, granted, getting them both off. He barely remembered cleaning up before passing out next to Bucky. How could he give in so easily? 

Months ago, he would have demanded Bucky rest first and then kissed all over him. But lately, a hunger moved through him that made him want Bucky all the time. They’d never really talked about it, but he knew Bucky was the same. 

Sam had noticed a shift back after their first Christmas vacation together. 

Bucky being more touchy in public, drinking in Sam’s touch when they were in bed like he was starving for it. Sucking every inch of Sam’s skin like he was in heat and only worshiping Sam could bring him sweet release. The dates sort of lined up - that shift had to be when he’d bought the cottage. He couldn’t just say he was factoring Sam into his long-term plan, and Sam couldn’t say it either, perhaps some pride filling both of them, but their bodies couldn’t hide that pure need, the physical manifestation of what was simmering below the surface. 

Bucky was a part of him now, the very air he breathed, the gentle thud of his heart beating, the pulse running up his neck, the heat to the burning flame inside him, the home he would always come back to. 

Sigh.  

Bucky stirred with the sound, making Sam place his other hand over his mouth. Bucky shifted, wrapped in the blanket cocoon that Sam left him in, and then he exhaled, soft snores emanating again, hugging the pillow that had been between them. As if anything could come between them.

Seriously.

Sprains and bruises.

Ridiculous, handsome… boyfriend.

Sam held in his second sigh, unable to even feel angry properly, still at two-thirds of his energy, and he went back to the kitchen to check on his meatless gumbo. The clock read evening now, and he’d woken up a bit disoriented from his extra long nap, but Sam’s body fought it, which he was glad for because he preferred to keep his near-perfect morning-centric sleep schedule. 

Bucky was built differently; the man could sleep in now and he probably would still sleep again tonight with Sam… whenever Sam managed to doze off… which hopefully, he would.

~*~

Knock knock.

“Sam?” Sarah called from outside. 

“Shit,” he muttered, sliding the empty mug onto the counter and jogging to the door to open it. The dark blue and pink sky framed her kindly as she blinked in the rude indoor light. 

“Why don’t you have a porch lamp-“

Sam shushed Sarah and ushered her in as she donned a very confused face.

“Inside voice, Bucky’s asleep,” he explained low, eyes falling to the glass container in her hands with a grin. “That's the stuff?” The stuff was crab, shrimp, and some clam meat.

“Yeah…” Sarah stretched the words, stepping out of her casual shoes and following him into the space, squinting. “Remind me again how you forget the damn seafood in a seafood gumbo?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I was tired, and didn't have time to go to the store.” And he didn’t want to leave Bucky home alone in case he was needed.

“Huh.” She made a face.

He made grabby hands at the container but squinted, not liking the silence as she raised both brows. “What?”

Sarah hummed, running the faucet to wash her hands, saying simply, “You admitting you’re tired and sounding like you mean it, it’s kind of nice.”

Sam felt discomfort, channeling the feeling to snark instead. “I get it, I’m either at top-notch or on the damn floor.” He couldn’t figure out which made his stomach twist more. Sarah being right or not hiding behind a usual PR-ready mask. The answer was probably Sarah being right.

“Knowing your limits is a good thing, Sam,” Sarah spat, shaking her head, “Aren’t you the one telling me not to do everything?”

He lowered, nodding glumly. 

She peeked over at his creation, unaffected by his silence. “Looks good. Want me to spruce it up?”

Now he scoffed, quite offended. “Absolutely not, this is a Sam specialty, not a Sarah one.”

Sarah chuckled, drying her hands as he stirred the broth again before opening the container, pleased that it was mostly meat and, damn, sis, even the shrimps were deveined and it was all seasoned. 

“Did I mention you’re the actual best?” Sam tried, raising a hand as she stepped closer, “No hits necessary, just a compliment!”

“I could be watching my program right now instead of babysitting your cooking.”

They stood over the pot together, her chaperoning with hums of possible approval as he tossed the seafood into his broth made with onion, carrot, celery, and a couple more spices and veggies of his choosing. Sam rolled his eyes, not quite saying, “I didn’t ask you to stay,” because it would probably be rude, just a little.

“I take it y’all figured out the house thing?” she asked, and he nodded, feeling his face warm up, though that could have been the steamy pot. 

“I’m gonna stay here with him… for as long as he’ll have me.” Sarah made a disgusting coo, and he groaned. “Oh, shut up!”

“Shhh,” she shushed him with a smirk, pointing at the room, and he might have turned a deep shade of red for real this time, face hot all the way up to his ears. 

“It’s a good step for us,” he felt the need to explain, “I-I love him… and I know you’re tired of us breathing all over, meddling in stuff.”

Sarah leaned against the counter with one of his beers from the fridge. Or, were they Bucky’s beers? “Well, you’re either home or flying off usually. This ain’t far at all.”

“Yeah, and now our brother stuff can’t…” he mumbled, “Never mind.”

Sarah went quiet, but she had a curious look on her face as she took another long gulp. Bucky and she were similar in that way, not pressing him to explain things immediately, but they both had a threshold, and there wasn’t a perfect way to tell her their brother was different. If she noticed, could she understand the plight of someone enhanced? What if knowing put her in danger?

Sam started to struggle before she asked, “Are y’all gonna head out again?” 

That gave him something to switch gears about and shrug, remembering Bucky-bruised-Barnes. “I don’t know, I want to catch up, let him recover before anything.”

“Recover?”

Shit. “Ah- sleep-“ Sam stuttered, turning back to the pot, tapping his fingers on the counter. “He can’t really sleep on flights, so-“ 

“Huh,” Sarah said again, and she changed the subject herself, “I meant to give you a copy of AJ’s allergy report.”

Sam shot her concerned eyes. 

“Relax, he’s fine.” She sighed. “Just allergic to kiwi and, apparently, raw avocado? Don’t know how we missed that one.”

Sam phewed, then raised a brow. “That’s so random.” 

She threw her hand up. “You’re telling me.”

“I guess it’s good that we know… yeah, he’ll be alright,” he rambled to himself. And then an exhale escaped, lunch with the boys at the restaurant coming back to him. 

“Cass-“ they started at the same time. 

Sarah huffed as he motioned for her to go ahead. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s been kind of moody, keeping to himself. Figured he’d talk to you, maybe, man to… smaller man?” She made a hopeful face.

Sam shook his head. “Sorry, ‘Rah. I told him he can confide in me, and I have his back, you know I do.”

She nodded, going around the island to sit on a stool, twiddling the bottle with a thoughtful look. “Maybe it’s just puberty stuff.”

“God, that was a time.” Sam shuddered. “Felt like a damn werewolf on the full moon, sad or mad about literally everything.”

“I know, knucklehead! Who do you think had to deal with your mess?” she asked, laughing, and then made an oops face as she lowered her voice. Sam gave a dramatic shrug. Bucky was probably awake by now with their back-and-forth.

There were sounds of fumbling in the room, confirming his suspicions, and then the door opened. A half-asleep, and thankfully dressed in a long-sleeve sleep set, Bucky appeared with a wave, his prosthetic attached.

“Hey Dracula, was just talking with your werewolf boyfriend.”

Bucky raised his brows, blinking into the light, a hum in his throat, voice deep and frankly a bit sexy for Sam’s taste being that they had company. With a groan and stretch, he said, “I heard. Wolf, huh? You know, that explains the moodiness and the, uh, tussling. Didn’t a full moon just pass?”

Sam scoffed, squinting as Bucky approached the fridge and pulled out a beer.

Sarah laughed. “See! He gets it, Sam!”

Bucky smirked, unaffected as Sam shook his head, turning back to the second pan where he was sauteing spinach. 

“I’m really gonna suspend this friendship, y’all better try me-“ Sam grumbled as Bucky moved in, one arm slithering around his waist that wasn’t holding a beer. 

“Doll, lighten up,” he murmured, pecking Sam’s cheek, sucking a few kisses into the spot before he let go. “And this smells great.” His stomach growled in agreement. “Heavenly, angel. Need help?”

“No, you can relax and take your next dose,” Sam warned quietly.

“I feel fine.” Bucky smiled into his chuckle, and then they both went silent as Sarah stared at them with her mouth pursed, eyes narrowed in a hum.

“I get the feeling I’m being left in the dark or something.”

Sam felt Bucky tighten against him, recovering quickly as he said, “You’re not, ‘Rah, it’s just stupid mission stuff.”

Sarah stared into Bucky like the sun burrowing holes through the planets, and he squirmed. Sam squeezed his hand over Bucky’s hand at his stomach. Hell no. Now was not the time to spill info about this crazy case. 

“Bucky?”

Bucky looked over his shoulder, giving a neutral albeit tense smile. “I was actually wondering if there was any more of that cherry pie.”

“There is…” she started, “If you tell me why you’re in some type of recovery.”

“I'm not?” Bucky tried.

“Them pills could take out a damn hound.” She pointed at the counter furthest from them and Sam and Bucky followed her eyes.

Sam groaned. Was he that tired to not even hide anything? Well, now Bucky had no reason not to drug up pronto. Sam removed the spinach from the heat and slowly wiggled out of Bucky’s hug, retrieving the bag.

“I was tussling,” Bucky mumbled, looking like a thief caught red-handed, and Sam rolled his eyes, realizing how much he couldn’t stand that word, that tussling would probably haunt him in his sleep paralysis dreams. 

She shook her head. “You’a bona fide Wilson man. Do I even want to know who could knock you around?”

Bucky raised a brow. “Ah… blind guy?” Which didn't sound any better.

Sarah laughed like he was joking, and Bucky smiled sheepishly. She asked, “So, y’all are square with Gid?”

Uh. Bucky glanced at Sam for help. Sam interrupted, “No fights were part of our terms,“ going to the rice cooker as he turned off the gumbo’s fire.

Sarah blinked. 

Sam sighed. “Both of y’all, sit.”

Bucky seemed confused, and then he accepted with a dejected pout as Sam made three healthy bowls while refusing help. He layered the rice to one side and then poured in meaty scoops of gumbo, a few extra for Bucky. Then he took out some side dishes for the spinach. They both watched in silence, which felt uncomfortable, but it gave Sam the minutes needed to summarize his kumbaya in his head. 

Finally, they all dug in, Bucky popping a pain pill with his usual antipsychotic as Sam explained the rules they both sort of informally set up under that moonlit night on the back porch, which sounded a lot more dramatic than intended by the way Bucky snorted.

Sarah nodded like she understood, swallowing a shrimp before saying, “Sam, that’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

Bucky choked on his spinach, reaching for a drink. Sam handed his beer to him while retorting, “Look, it’s peace… we’re not going at each other publicly.”

“Though, he did start it,” Bucky noted, giving a what? face as Sam eyed him. Bucky threw up a hand, sounding childish. “He did!”

She sighed. “Forget I asked… this is probably what’s bothering Cass.”

Sam paused, putting down his spoon. Shit. Why hadn’t that even occurred to him? A wave of guilt filled him as he gritted, Bucky reaching for his hand across the table. Sam took it with a heavy sigh. 

“Can you fill me in?” Bucky added quietly, muttering, though, I understand if it’s family-

Sam squeezed his hand, the sensors giving gentle feedback. “Baby, you’re family,” he reminded him, eyes firm. “It’s fine.”

Sarah nodded and then started on another beer as she and Sam recalled Cass’s mood being more damper than usual. Bucky listened, seeming to loosen up his hunched posture as the meds kicked in. He hummed, smooth metal rubbing Sam, other hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“Sounds like stress,” Bucky noted, stating the obvious, but Sam knew he was trying to help. He cared a lot about the boys, hell, spoiled them, always ready to engage in some made-up game or cheer them on in their interests. Bucky wasn’t the first to tell Cass he had a great singing voice, but when he’d said it, Cass lit up differently, a beaming smile on his face. Sam sighed, not meaning to look at Bucky so lovingly as he consoled Sarah. And then, he suggested, “Maybe he needs a change of pace.”

Sam raised both brows, brain following him. 

“It sounds simple, but just getting away from everything can be really… cathartic? We all do it, right?” Bucky asked. “Kids probably need it, too.”

“I get that,” Sam agreed, looking between him and Sarah, “Baking with TT helped me. It probably wasn’t the baking, but the-“ he motioned “-doing something else. Your brain stops being jacked up and it’s like you can really think. Gid probably had that with Pa, and you would do all the errands with Ma.”

Sarah settled into the words, taking a sigh, “Do you think you guys can take them out- I don’t know- do some Wilson guy stuff?”

Sam eyed her plainly. “Rah, they don’t want to bake for therapy.” 

Bucky snickered, smiling down into his plate.

“Then throw a damn baseball, I don’t care! I’m not the cool one, Sam, I’m their mom who says go get dressed and brush your damn teeth.” 

Sam hummed. 

As far as he knew, Cass was good at following recipes but he was more interested in historical facts and reading. AJ was a great sport and ready to try almost anything… but he’d improvise on every recipe. Really, AJ had more in common with Sam. Cass was an introspective and cool-natured bookworm, always seeming older than he looked… like he was born in the wrong decade.

Sam’s eyes drifted to Bucky.

Bucky raised both brows, swallowing beer.

“Yeah, let’s have a couple of guys’ days,” Sam decided, testing, still looking at him, “They can come over and we can do some Uncle Bucky stuff.”

Sarah looked relieved as Uncle Bucky in question lowered his drink, eyes wide. “Oh.” Sam wondered if he’d volunteered him too soon and unfairly when Bucky suddenly grinned. “We can build a treehouse.”

Sarah’s look went plain, then she threw her hands up. “Fuck it, build a treehouse.”

They laughed.

~*~

Sam walked Sarah home and then jogged back to the cottage, hoping Bucky hadn’t managed to do anything weird and low-chance like slipping on a rug and not being able to get up. His imagination had already gone up and down the road as he rushed back inside, finding Bucky sitting on the couch with a book, eyeing Sam curiously.

“You ‘kay, doll?”

Sam exhaled. “Why was I picturing you tangled in the damn curtain.”

Bucky only blinked, pressing both lips together as he nodded like his boyfriend had finally lost it, and then his eyes lowered to the container in Sam’s hand, drawing in a gasp.

“She didn’t-“

“I didn’t,” Sam corrected him, “Your little best friend is passed out while your noble, loving boyfriend got you a big slice of pie.”

Bucky grinned, starting to giggle as Sam went to the kitchen for a spoon and a napkin then joined him on the sofa. He leaned in to kiss Sam while reaching for the pie. Sam went nuh-uh revealing the tube of pain cream in his other hand before accepting the kiss.

A noise in the back of Bucky’s throat showed his frustration. “Dolllll, I’m literally an adult three times over,” he said while peeling off his shirt anyway as a trade for the pie, letting out those rude abs. He took a large bite before moaning with a full mouth, “Mmm, this is demeaning, you know-“

Sam frowned over the discolored bruises on his chest, touching him gently, earning a shiver. Bucky certainly seemed better than a few hours ago, denoted by how he managed to sass Sam without gasping for breath, but the area looked worse in that some injuries had to before they were fully healed.

Sigh. Sam placed a single kiss on his sternum, lips brushing the skin as Bucky paused, eyes big and soft despite how ridiculous and full his chipmunk cheeks looked.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmured. 

Those words sparked a jumpy feeling in Sam’s chest, but he maintained his composure as he opened the tube and rubbed cream over the nastiest looking spots. 

“Why?” he asked in the silence, managing to sound calm. “I’m glad you’re back, baby.”

Bucky shook his head, pushing aside the half-eaten pie and pulling his shirt back on. “What I found is… not good.”

A nod met him and Sam sighed, a slight smile nor frown. “Figured. Take it from the top.”

~*~

They snuggled on the couch with a throw blanket around their shoulders, lights dim. Sam rubbed a hand on Bucky’s thigh, staring at a page of notes on the table in front of a beer and a mug of coffee. Bucky explained his short excursion.

The first bar was called Don’t in Soho and Bucky didn’t elaborate on the name until Sam pressed him for more. The official name was a nod to a speakeasy named Don't Ask, Don’t Tell from the prohibition era, one that Bucky had popped into when he was drafted, but it’d been long shut down. Don’t was a place for mutants to come and go freely. 

Bucky’s visit there went smoothly, albeit him not really finding any concrete clues, mostly rumors, and Sam had to take a moment to get over how cool the bar itself sounded, imagining a suave forties Bucky with a scotch, leaned over some shaded counter going, “What are we waiting for, doll?”

“Sam, you’re drooling.”

“I’m not!” Sam nudged him, cheeks hot as he wiped his face. 

Second, Bucky went to Bloodlust, a place founded by vampires but generally open to all freaks, and Sam had to blink before processing that because he hadn’t read any type of files that really confirmed rather than speculated on the existence of the creatures. Sorry, people. Vampires were apparently people.

Bucky mumbled, “Half of them are mutants with a couple of quirks who live real long. One actually recognized me from-“ Winter Soldier days.  

Sam tilted. “But they turn others-“

“With the right tools, you can turn anyone into anything, Sam.”

That made no sense, but he dropped it, figuring it probably wouldn’t unless he saw it for himself. They seemed to live in that kind of world. “What did the vamp-person say?”

Bucky hesitated, finishing the last bite of pie and putting down the container. “Pointed me to another joint in Hell’s Kitchen, La Llorona.”

Sam pursed his lips, settling into Bucky’s shoulder as he got comfy again, rubbing his right hand. “Let me guess, a crying woman started it?”

Chuckle. “No, actually, the bartender said the name just sounded cool.” 

“Hm.”

Bucky nuzzled closer, eyes twinkling. “I picked up whispers about mercenaries on the underground market. They’ve been making waves along the coast, really, hunting unregistered mutants and enhanced. ‘Cept they're green.”

Sam narrowed. “How do we know it's them and not some other guys?” 

Bucky hesitated. “That’s how I got these bruises.”

Sigh.

“It’s actually a funny story.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Sam let go of his hand and crossed his arms. “Like that blind man nonsense you made up to make your bestie laugh?”

Bucky scoffed. “It wasn’t nonsense, Sam, I did fight a blind guy, and he was a worthy opponent, don’t be so close-minded.” Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head, regretting telling Bucky to learn political terms to get savvy with the times. Bucky paused. “At least, I was seventy percent sure he couldn’t see me.”

Sam must have looked horrified because Bucky pulled his arm and quickly added, “He’s a vigilante, Sam! I didn’t go attacking some unsuspecting citizen, he hit me first-”

“Great,” Sam groaned. “Cap’s boyfriend is a public menace, but don’t worry folks! He doesn’t discriminate!” 

Bucky guffawed. “You are so dramatic. Just- Here- Look!” Bucky unlocked his phone, taking very frustrated and dramatic swipes before pulling up blurry images of a white dude in a dark burgundy and black suit with two horns attached to his mask. Sam made a tired face as Bucky explained, “He calls himself Daredevil except the guy fights like a dirty boxer.”

“I knew I should’ve come.” Sam huffed. “So, what did you do to make him whoop your ass?”

Bucky looked incredulous. “Wow, darling, way to believe in me.”

Sam eyed his chest.

Bucky shifted, pulling his edge of the blanket over him. “I was trying to hold back so that I could explain the situation-” Sam scoffed and reached for his mug as Bucky stuttered, “Isn’t that always what you want? For me to not go lethal on guys?”

“I mean, yeah, he’s a good guy… but mama Darlene ain’t raised no punk,” Sam murmured, echoing into the glass. Only when he cracked a smile did Bucky close his gaping jaw, realizing he was being completely fucked with.

“Christ, why do I fall for it? You are the meanest Captain America-”

Sam chortled out. “Your other comparison is a guy who looks at flowers blooming and cries in remembrance of his last house plant.”

Bucky groaned. “Lucky you’re cute.” He leaned over and smooshed an angry kiss into smirking Sam’s temple. Then he regained his thoughts, one arm resting around Sam’s shoulders while the other reached across his face, keeping their eye contact. It felt awkward, but Sam accepted that Bucky needed this tense ambiance to get his point across.

He practically spoke against his face. “It really was a misunderstanding. I saw someone getting mugged, and I stepped in… by the time this red weirdo jumps from the roof, it looks like I’m shaking the mugger down, and he misinterprets it. We tussled before it was cleared up, and, Jesus, the guy immediately apologized, it was crazy.” He pulled out a card that read: 

Nelson & Murdock

Attorney at Law. 

Matthew Murdock

Sam couldn’t stop his laughs. 

Bucky pouted, rubbing his cheek, leaning against his forehead. “This isn’t funny, Sam, it really freaked me out how he handed me a business card after. Who does that? Said if I needed a lawyer, he had time for pro bono cases starting next year.”

“Did you accept his pro bono?”

“Hell no! I got information!” Bucky’s eyes went feral. “Here’s the kicker, he knew everything I needed, about the green goons, and how they were seen in New York. The guy texted me a bunch of photos. I should’ve just found him first.”

By robbing someone? Sam decided not to ask, pursing his lips. “So you left me your hot boyfriend to get some Daredevil’s number?” 

Bucky whined, “For businesss!” Huff. “Sam, some mutants are just arrested and never heard of again, but others have died fighting them. These green gamma whatever guys aren’t good. Look at this.”

Sam took his phone from him, scrolling through pictures with a lowered brow, seeing blurry images of what definitely appeared to be Griffin flying. He didn’t recognize the other, a green woman with red hair and… stitches on her body.

“You got any leads on where to find them?”

“I know who to start with.”

“That’s great, baby.” Sam rubbed Bucky’s thigh, finally feeling more optimistic. “We can get right to work-” his voice trailed off as Bucky winced. “Fuck, is this the part I’m not going to like?”

Bucky nodded. 

“Who are we shaking down?”

“Rhodes.”

Sam choked back another laugh, hitting Bucky’s thigh. “Our Rhodey? Baby, come on!” 

Bucky reached over and Sam watched him open a picture of a gray Iron Man suit flying in the Big Apple. “Look, this is from Murdock. That’s the same night that the green assholes were active.” He swiped. “And this is in D.C., the day that green lass was seen. Torres’s AI matched that model to Rhodey’s personal suit. That’s two times the Iron Patriot could have been in contact with them.”

Sam crossed his arms. “Maybe he was fighting crime as heroes do? Rhodey simply being in an area where there’s any government office isn’t a coincidence.” The bit of silence made Sam squint. “Right?”

“Don’t freak out… but I hacked his Stark calendar-” He raised a finger as Sam gaped. “-and the day we investigated was blank, no coffee, no ‘day off’ written, whatever, but his phone records-”

“You went through our friend’s phone?”

“Just the Stark towers data! Come on, that’s practically public!” Yeah, for a former international agent with hacking skills. What the fuck, Bucky. “Just- Listen- Location pinged him in the same radius as us when we left the lab. That’s three different times he could’ve interacted with those freaks. How is this not a coincidence?”

“But-”

“Think, doll.”

Sam fell into Bucky’s shoulder with a tired groan, Bucky taking his hand and rubbing between his thumb and index finger. 

“Fuck it,” Sam sighed. “You’ve got a good gut for morally gray folks, so let’s ask him. I won’t assume the worst of our friend, but he can’t lie to our damn face. Best case, he’s innocent, and knows something that helps us.”

Bucky smiled as Sam made up his mind.

“Rhodey’s living in Philly right now… we can fly in tomorrow-” 

“Don’t,” Bucky said smoothly, pulling up a different app, which painfully looked like a full calendar. “He’s gonna be in New Orleans this week for a conference.”

“We’ll tag him there.” Sam tapped his fingers on his thigh, accepting this very odd plan. “Meanwhile, I’ll follow up with Torres. I need more data on these green sightings. There’s gotta be an algorithm or something that he can run on that millennial brain.”

Bucky nodded and Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes. The clock read 3AM. 

“Get some sleep, Sam. We can plan the rest in the morning.” 

Sam moaned, shaking his head as Bucky stood up from the couch. “Nuh-uh, we start, we finish-” 

Yawn.

“Darling, if you don’t take a nap I’m gonna throw you on the bed.”

Sam didn’t mean to scoff, leaning forward for his coffee. “Buck, literally one hour isn’t gonna kill me- Hey!” he shouted as Bucky scooped his hands under his thighs roughly. “N-no, hell no!”

“Payback for flying me halfway to the moon.”

“It wasn’t the- Aah!” Sam shouted as Bucky grunted before hoisting him up bridal style. He wrapped a hand around Bucky’s neck, not willing to admit that he’d grown delirious as the room spun around him. “I’m closing the ride!”

Bucky shook him in his arms, kicking the door to the bedroom open as Sam squirmed, bickering about how he could be hurting himself-

Plop.

Sam was actually tossed onto the soft yet firm bed, looking back very offended and - hell, a little turned on as Bucky peeled his shirt off real slow, the moonlight casting shadows across the ridges on his stomach. “Ohmygod,” Sam moaned as Bucky crawled toward him, “Babynooo.”

“Baby, yes,” Bucky whispered, filling his mouth with the taste of beer, and like a thirsty goddamn fool, Sam drank it in slowly. His arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck and ran through his hair, feeling how hard Bucky was against him as their hips moved flush.

“I can’t nap like this,” Sam huffed as he broke away, face stern like he wasn’t hot in his whole body.

Bucky smirked, pressing a kiss to his face before pushing up from the bed. “Try, since the ride is closed.” He stood up, trailing to the door.

Sam gasped. “Bucky! Wait!”

It closed.

Ugh. He groaned, a pillow over his face as he shouted. I’ve created a monster. 

~*~

Sam opened his eyes to the comfort of Bucky’s bare chest pressed to his back, right arm around his waist. He reached a hand down and rubbed Bucky’s fingers, eyeing the clock on the nightstand. 9AM. Sigh. Running on the path now would be too sticky and hot. The sun was shining through the curtain.

Bucky breathed on the back of Sam’s neck as he stirred, groaning and stretching his legs. “G’morning.” He rolled onto his back, eyes still closed as Sam shifted away from the windows, fitting himself to Bucky’s left side. 

Sam tucked his hand under his cheek, rubbing the other hand over Bucky’s chest, earning a tickled smile. He couldn’t help but eye the intricate pieces of smooth metal where the vibranium arm usually attached, running a finger along the edges that met skin.

“Can I ask you something?”

Bucky peeked an eye open. “Mhm.”

“I’m wondering if this is something you want to talk about.” Sam traced the metal, trying to play it cool. “Or, if you don’t want me to be weird.”

“Mm-” Bucky used his hand to rub his eyes. “It’s sort of a therapy experiment? Seeing how comfortable I feel without the arm-” He yawned as Sam rubbed his stomach. “-and I want to try it. A lot of amputees take their prosthetics off, which, I know mine is different, but I mainly avoid it because of anxiety. I guess this is like a trial run.”

“How do you feel?”

Bucky quieted, slowly meeting his eyes. “Bit vulnerable… but it’s you, doll.” He offered a smile. “One plus is cuddling.”

Sam smiled back, fully taking in the words. “Thank you for telling, baby, you know you’re safe with me.” 

Bucky’s eyes filled deep blue like the ocean. “I love you, Sam,” he whispered, the words cut off by soft kisses. Sam moved on top of him, moans vibrating between their lips.

“I love you, too.” Sam sighed, their foreheads touching as Bucky’s arm wrapped around his waist tightly.

“Love you more. Love you enough to ride.”

“Bucky…” Sam whined, feeling Bucky fully hard against him. “You love being in trouble.”

Bucky bit Sam’s bottom lip, then murmured, “I am the trouble.” He flipped them over with uncanny precision, earning a gasp from Sam as he tugged his boxers down, freeing his half-erection.

Sam’s cheeks heated all the way up to his ears as he twitched, heavy on his stomach, watching Bucky wiggle out of his own underwear and toss it to the side, seeming relieved now that his dick was free.

Jesus. Sam bit both lips.

“Before you ask-” Bucky reached for lubricant on the nightstand, declaring, “I’m not still in pain, but I’m very horny and feel very in love. Thus, I’m gonna ride you, fuck you-” Sam swallowed. “And make breakfast,” Bucky whispered, leaning in close, tasting Sam’s lips. “‘kay?”

Sam quickly nodded, meeting a sly smile as Bucky pushed the lube into his hand, waiting for Sam to flip it over and squeeze a healthy glob onto Bucky’s fingers. Bucky leaned forward, perched over Sam, display filthy as he readied himself with a parted jaw.

Sam reached a hand to stroke them both, earning shivers. He couldn’t take his eyes off Bucky, jaw open as Bucky rode his fingers before he was ready to take Sam, and Jesus Christ, he did.

“Bucky,” Sam groaned when he finally lowered, hole throbbing, warm heat making room for every inch of Sam as a hand pressed to Sam’s stomach for stability. “God.”

Bucky had a pleased grin on his face as he rode slowly, dripping onto Sam’s stomach. The pace didn’t speed up, just slow and heavy thrusts, colliding pleasure between them, cracks of sunlight hitting Bucky’s chest as he gazed down, eyes filled with love. 

Sam couldn’t speak, mind somewhere else as he held Bucky’s hips, feeling heat pool through him as their speed picked up and Bucky started to moan louder, stuttering, “Doll- Oh fuck-“ He rode through his own orgasm, releasing onto Sam’s stomach. Then he continued, sensitive as he brought Sam with him over the edge. Sam jerked on the bed, filling him and groaning loud as he clutched Bucky’s hips. 

“That feel good, doll?” Bucky asked with a breathy voice. Sam moaned as he started to come down from his high, not meaning to analyze the shy look in Bucky’s eyes as he slowly removed himself.

“Amazing,” Sam shivered.

Bucky seemed satisfied with the feedback before laying next to him, reaching onto the nightstand for his arm. 

Sam thought they were finished, starting to roll over, before Bucky placed his hand on his hip, biting his lip.

“Oh- baby-“ That I’m gonna fuck you came back with hot implication, making Sam blush under Bucky’s hot glare. 

Bucky pushed hot kisses against his lips, and Sam moaned into his mouth, their sensitive lower halves rubbing, stirring him up. Sam sighed, eyeing Bucky as he positioned Sam how he wanted him, thighs open, one leg hitched over his shoulder so he could lube him up slowly.

“That’s good.” Sam's eyes closed halfway as Bucky’s slick fingers relaxed him. Half of his relaxation was from coming already, and the other half lie in gazing at Bucky, knowing there was nowhere safer he could be.

“Bucky,” Sam said softly, arms coming around his shoulders, “Fuck me?”

Bucky nodded, jaw agape as his eyes searched for a condom on the nightstand.

“It’s okay,” Sam whispered.

“You sure?”

Sam kissed him, and then Bucky chuckled, lowering Sam’s ankle as he lined himself up. They made eye contact, almost close enough to kiss again, and then Bucky pushed in slowly, stretching him halfway. Sam exhaled, a hand up to the nape of Bucky’s neck as he made his second thrust, unbearably slow, lighting up every nerve in Sam’s body as he took him fully.

“Please-“ Sam couldn’t finish as Bucky thrust in again, earning a moan, his jaw open, and Sam squeezed his thighs at his hips, earning a smug look. Bucky took his time with his punishing thrusts, really building the want up in Sam before Sam was moaning, “More, baby, please.” Bucky lifted his ankles to his shoulders and fucked him harder, not stopping until Sam was completely satisfied.

~*~

“Waffles and bacon for my darling,” Bucky cooed, placing a wooden tray onto the bed. The waffles were sprinkled with powdered sugar and syrup next to steaming bacon slices and a bowl of strawberries with cream.

Sam sighed in a smile, hugging a pillow as his back hated him. That was partially his own fault for begging Bucky past overstimulation. Sam’s body reminded him that they’d spent an hour in bed as the waves rolled through him while Bucky was cooking. After, he could only lay down, lazily sending texts to set up their short trip and googling how much energy sex burned compared to a morning run.

“Thank you, baby,” Sam murmured as Bucky fed him a strawberry with whipped cream. “Mmm.” 

Bucky sat down on the bed, reaching over to rub his right hand on Sam’s neck, his kiss the cook apron revealing his nipples.

“Got us a reservation in New Orleans,” Sam started as Bucky pushed another strawberry in his mouth. “Mm, and Torres is working on an algorithm-“ he didn’t finish chewing as Bucky snuck in another. “You’re stuffing me, come on!”

Bucky smirked, bed hair falling a little evilly over his forehead. “Already stuffed ya, now I’m feeding ya.”

Sam threw a strawberry at him, jaw dropped in disbelief as his cheeks heated. “I’m trying to give you our itinerary, baby.”

A groan escaped Bucky as he rolled his eyes. “That’s in hours, Sam. We can have breakfast and shower first.”

Sam pouted, angrily accepting a bite of waffle as he conceded, admitting quietly to himself how peaceful the morning felt. “You didn’t off anyone, right?”

Bucky immediately laughed, taking a piece of bacon. “What?”

“This is perfect, not that it isn’t always- but right after telling me you squared up with Matt Murdock?”

“Doll, Jesus, it’s our first morning officially living together.” A blush touched Bucky as he stared down at the tray, quieter, “I’m just really happy…”

Sam softened. “Sorry…” then he exhaled. “Maybe I am a little wound up. I love this.” He leaned over and kissed Bucky for comfort. “And I love you.”

“So, let me spoil you, doll,” Bucky murmured, kissing him again. “New Orleans can wait till tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Sam whispered, “Tomorrow.”

***

Chapter 13: Trust

Summary:

Sam and Bucky arrive in New Orleans, met by a surprising face and new facts.

Notes:

YAY IM BACK. My brain did the writer’s block thing but I am satisfied with this chapter. 👀 It might be the first one in forever with no spicy time

“I’ve been really tryinnn baby,” Sam sang, snapping his fingers out the window. “Tryna hold back these feelings”—he hit his right hand on Bucky’s chest, holding it there—“For soooo long!”

“Eyes on the road, hun,” Bucky said over the wind, reaching over to straighten the wheel as Sam let it go to snap both fingers. 

Bucky rolled his eyes despite the smile on his lips as Sam took the wheel again. Thankfully, they were one of the few cars on the highway.

“Baby, come on, this is our jam!” Sam quipped, rolling his body in the seat, which no driving instructor would recommend.

“Doll…”

“Let’s get it onnn!” Sam sang louder, grabbing Bucky’s thigh with a hot grin, “Aaaaah baby! Let’s get it-“

“You mean your jam,” Bucky finally laughed out, brushing Sam’s left hand away and placing it on the steering wheel again. “God, you’re gonna kill us-“ Still, he beamed, watching Sam sing and roll his shoulders, head bobbing as the sun shone on his forearms. As usual, he looked like an entire dessert in his button-down short-sleeve shirt, two buttons undone tastefully. 

Sam met Bucky’s long smile, face almost stuck there, as the song finished and he dropped his invisible microphone. “Thank you, here all night folks.”

Bucky, as if remembering the pettiness between them, finally scoffed, leaning against his right arm on the window ledge. “I should’ve driven.”

“My playlist, my rules,” met him smoothly, “And relax, I factored in some of your faves, sweetheart.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. “Marvin Gaye?”—he paused, an incredulous smile spreading on his face as the next song started, a Fitzgerald hit. “Ella, really?”

Sam watched him with a red-cheeked smile and hunter’s eyes, definitely not paying attention to the sparse highway as he started to sing, “I’m making belieeeve-“  

Bucky rolled his eyes, muttering back with a smile, “Though I know you're so far away.”

Sam grabbed Bucky’s left hand, “Making believe I'm talking to you!” He shook for emphasis as they both sang to each other off-key, “Wish you could hear what I saaaaay!”

~*~

New Orleans was a proud city with life at every corner. The streets were filled with beautiful, artistic, and talented people. Sam clearly belonged there, looking alive in a way that made Bucky lock his eyes to the window, cheeks glazed cherry. When Sam glanced over with a soft smile, the sun teased his skin and Bucky’s brow softened, taking his hand and squeezing it. He looked at Sam like the sun couldn’t shine brighter on anyone else. 

Sam let the stress in his body disappear as they roamed through downtown streets, humming to Nat King Cole low on the car’s speakers. He kept the windows down to take in the sounds and smells of the streets. You had to do that every time you visited somewhere, new or familiar. New Orleans always brought him back to a good mood. 

“You know, TT used to live here,” Sam said quietly, left hand on the wheel, the right tangled in Bucky’s fingers. “Well, not here here, but a little outside the city.”

Bucky took in the words with a soft jaw and relaxed shoulders, eyes surveilling the streets. “Tell me about it.”

Sam sighed, heart swelling a little the way it could when so many memories were filling you at once, the way love, hope, wonder, fear, and adventure could fit so neatly into the body of your inner child.

“God,” he laughed out, two hands on the wheel now, “Where do I begin? Shoot, she’d run us all through town when we visited. Made us get a library card. Even took us to the polls to see how far our folk have come. I think my favorite part was shopping at the markets-“

Bucky grinned. “Like food shopping?”

“Oh, hush!” Sam’s cheeks heated. “But, yeah- she’d take me right home and we’d get to cooking. It was nice.” He smiled at nothing. “I was so glad when she moved back to Delacroix, mostly to help out the family and- well to receive treatment for her depression,” he quieted, taking a breath and forcing a smile, “But I’m glad she came back.”

Compassionate eyes met Sam and Bucky nodded his head. “I understand.” And it only took those two words to ease Sam, allowing him to push down the bitter and hold onto the sweet. 

Other than TT, the city made him think of Leila. The few science class trips they had taken had been to New Orleans. Leila always found a way to sneak off to people-watch or get up to something good, dragging Sam with her, and maybe he always had a penchant for finding an adventure. 

Bucky didn’t ask what else he was thinking, just humming to an old swing tune, maybe somewhere in his own memories.

“Look, the main library,” Sam finally said softly, a contrast to the smirk on his lips.

“Great place for a little witch book club,” Bucky noted.

Sam let his laugh echo out the window, and then he quieted, starting in a question tone, “Baby.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“What?” Sam looked at him weirdly. Never mind that default response. “I’m asking about your book.”

Bucky’s face formed an ‘o’ as he nodded slowly. “Which you’ve read, dearest.”

“It makes me think. You’re a seasoned guy that actually goes to libraries. Do you ever sign your book? Like, if you see it on the shelf.”

He raised a brow. “Earth to Sam, that’s defacing private property.”

“If you get permission then that’s a smart way to get more people to buy them. Author-signed copies are like treasure… or so I hear from the nerds.” Sam slowed into traffic, turning to him. “Plus, if it’s a mom and pop shop, they can sell it for more profit.”

“So, it’s illegal but serves a greater good.” Bucky rubbed his chin. “I can work with that.”

Sam blinked. “Wait-“

Honk-honk.

He clicked his tongue and focused forward on the intersection. “That’s not what I meant, don’t make it all chaotic-“ 

Bucky was already smiling.

“Actually, leave mom and pop alone.” Sam started to cringe which turned into a chuckle. “For all we know, they’re vigilantes who can whoop your ass.”

The song changed and they passed through the central business district. The car slowed near a hotel building with white marble columns and two huge greek sculptures on each side of its elaborate entrance. Sam would be lying if he said it was too bougie for his tastes. Sigh. Why didn’t he ever use his budget on luxuries like that… He sideways glanced at Bucky-expensive-appetite-Barnes.

Bucky raised his brows, and Sam skillfully asked instead, “That’s it?” pretending to squint at the very large golden letters. 

“Le Pavillon,” Bucky answered, “Where Rhodes is staying,” he continued, “Place is real posh. It’s got literal pianos in some of the rooms, and everything else is imported.” God, that sounded wonderful.

“Someone’s an ace at Google,” Sam commented, giving it a longing last lookover before passing it by. Another incredibly rude car honked behind them.

Bucky smirked, face getting a little evil, making Sam raise a brow. “Le Pavillon has a famous bartender in this season, so I’m thinking we can run up Rhodes’s tab as compensation.”

Sam started to grin as they rode past, leaving the hotel behind them. “I’ve created a monster and I’m in love with him.”

“No one lies to my Dr. Frankenstein or they pay up,” Bucky replied coolly. 

“If he lied,” Sam reminded him with a glance, though he kept his giddy grin, “But, fine; maybe I have been craving some muffaletta, po-boys… definitely a good local gumbo.” Sam took a breath to calm his heart, deciding, “I’m gonna need three hot meals till I’m not mildly upset anymore.”

Bucky concurred. 

And, for the record, the Captain America budget did cover their meals assuming they slept in normal hotels (the excuse being that it was better for avoiding press - which it wasn’t), but vacation didn’t count. Rhodey, however, was not on vacation, and much better at negotiating the works into his contract. Hell, someone with threshold to continuously deal with Stark had to be. Sam had no qualms with running up that kind of bureaucratic tab.

~*~

They decided to have brunch together before retiring to their hotel. As Sam understood from Bucky’s out-of-pocket spy work, Rhodey would have Tuesday meetings all the way into the late afternoon. That wouldn’t make the best time for cornering the guy; Sam did have that much consideration. He felt vaguely aware that talking to Rhodey didn’t have a detailed plan behind it. The best course of action would be to unwind and try to look productive, wait for an opening.

Cafe Du Monde was as busy as expected of a popular historic place in the middle of the day. It was known for freshly made Beignets and coffee, and the menu didn’t carry anything else. 

Bucky stood next to Sam in the line as they waited behind a younger couple feeding each other ice cream and giggling rather obnoxiously. 

Damn, I’m getting old, Sam thought. Surely, some stuff was best left at home? Though, that probably would have been him once upon a time ago, fresh out of basic, heart big and ready to take on the world. Now he felt grumpy from paying for parking and wanted to get his overpriced coffee and go walk along the boardwalk with his grumpy boyfriend who also really needed overpriced beignets or he’d get sugar antsy.

“We could go somewhere else,” Sam offered quietly, moving as close as he could without quite holding Bucky’s hand. 

Their skin brushed as Bucky shook his head under his cap. “Already waited this long.” A sigh. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere. I’m checking his phone’s gps.”

Sam apologized to Rhodey in the back of his mind. “Whatever meeting he has, at least there’s coffee there.” There always was, stale or not.

Bucky smiled, and Sam took the opportunity to smile back, brushing his hand a little closer. This time, Bucky acted on his signal and looped their fingers, and Sam really hoped all of the other patrons couldn’t hear how much that touch made his heart pound.

The couple in front of them were getting more excessive, kissing each other, holding their dog, making coos and kissing the dog then each other again. Sam was staring with a wrinkled face, and he almost felt bad for the judgment until they stepped in front of the cashier and asked if the place served doggy beignets and vegan coffee. 

Bucky eyed Sam. Isn’t coffee already vegan?

Sam winced. Gen Z.

Ah.

When they finally got to the counter, Sam ordered two specialty dark roast chicory coffees and a large box of berry-filled and sugar-powdered beignets for him and Bucky to share. 

He paid with their Disney credit card and then they were walking hand in hand through the store plaza. He sipped his coffee from the two-pack cardboard carrying case while Bucky occasionally broke away to stuff a whole beignet in his mouth, making satisfied hums. “Want some?” was deciphered from the jumble of sounds. 

Sam smiled, reaching over to thumb sugar from Bucky’s lip and taste it. 

Bump.

“Excuse me, you have got to be kidding me!”

Bucky eyed Sam, and then they both turned around and looked at the front of a woman with a coffee stained button-down shirt glaring at a man on the other side of them.

Sam had half a mind to keep walking or leave it alone until he blinked at the woman’s face, and that expression took him back - oh, it took him way back. To parties and reciting Shakespeare in the Park and reading pop magazines, practicing dance moves on the radio in the attic.

Bucky pulled Sam to the side as he stood almost dazed, snapping out of it because he very much looked like some random man ogling oddly with his photostatic veil. Kill him, the things were useful. Bucky slowly took the coffees from him, reading his body language, the slight Cap-tingles that said he had to do something.

The man, some suit with overly greasy hair in business attire, opened his posture in a pissed-off manner, revealing his shirt covered with fruit filling stains.

“Me? I’ve got to be kidding!?” he shouted back, “Do you know how much this costs? Can you even afford a shirt this expensive?”

Sam turned to them fully now, a sigh leaving him. Great, the man was an asshole, micro-aggressive, and worse, he didn’t know who he was dealing with. Bucky chewed slower, a hand on Sam’s back as his eyes assessed the situation.

The woman laughed, dramatic with it, head tilting back slightly to show a mouth full of sparkly teeth and Sam almost cracked a smile, knowing she could see them staring amongst a few curious faces. She was moderate height, slim with brown skin and medium-length pulled-back fulani braids. And her outfit; high-waisted jeans with a button-down white shirt, a red lip. God, she was definitely Leila Taylor.

“Puh-lease! I know knock-off Ralph Lauren when I see it,” Leila retorted.

Ouch, and to boot, someone in passing chuckled. The man’s face turned red as a beet. 

“On second thought,” she added in a different tone, “I’ll reimburse you for the pastries. You could probably use the change if you’re walking around in knock-offs.”

“You know what-” the man growled, taking a step toward her, hand raising. Sam closed his distance with a large step and held the man’s shoulder firm but not letting him move forward.

“Hey, man, it was an accident,” Sam said in a friendly tone, hoping the veil let through the stern look in his eyes. “You’re not going to make a big deal, are you?”

He let the man shake him off, though the steam steeping from the top of his head didn’t stop. A few more faces turned to them, and Bucky pulled his cap lower over his forehead, sipping Sam’s coffee.

Sam watched the man straighten his suit-jacket as a smile formed on Leila’s lips. 

“Well, I am,” she said, and Sam only had a moment to blink before the man took a hit to the groin and then was on the floor. People whispered. Bucky muttered Sam’s name, snapping him out of his trance. 

Sam groaned in his mind before taking Leila’s hand and guiding her away from the plaza. “Hey, get off!” she snapped, freeing her arm from his loose hold.

“Leila!” Sam pleaded as they settled into an alley between stores. “Seriously. You just committed an assault!”

“How do you know my name?” she asked with a weird look, a hand by her hip. Concealed carry. 

Sam felt Bucky’s heat behind him, and her eyes drifted between the two of them cautiously, and rightfully so. 

Shit. He did look like a random guy.

“Who sent you?”

Sam glanced around then fiddled with his veil, turning it off. “No one, it’s me.”

Leila gaped as Sam’s face revealed itself, and a high-pitched shrill left her. “The black falcon!?”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Sam!”

Sam sighed as she jumped up, pulling him into a tight hug, unable to stop his smile. Really? Meeting her again after she took some corporate jerk down a peg? He couldn’t say he expected any less from the woman he used to breakdance by the pier with, earning extra money when they were supposed to be studying sociology or biology or- “Yes, crazy chick! I told you to stop hitting random men!”

She huffed, letting him go, making a show of crossing her arms. “But he was 5’9”. You know it’s my least favorite number.”

Silence sank between them and they burst into a laugh together, blowing all of the tension into the wind.

“Your bodyguard?” Leila asked once she composed herself, posture more relaxed as she looked Bucky up and down. He stood somewhere in-between awkward and unsure when to make his towering presence known.

“This is Bucky,” Sam explained, opening up their triangle to reveal him. “He’s uh…”

“Oh?” Leila raised a brow, batting her eyelashes, and he almost loathed how easily she read him like a damn book. How many years had it been? And she was jamming her elbow into Sam’s side wiggling her brows as he burned with embarrassment.

“My boyfr-”

“Boyfriend, called it!”

“You didn’t! I was literally saying it!” Sam rolled his eyes and took a breath. This time, he slipped his left hand into Bucky’s right and squeezed as her eyes lit up. Bucky seemed to calm as well as she shot them a toothy shriek.

“Well, Bucky, I’m Leila Taylor. Journalist, fashion extraordinaire, ally to the innocent, and I love the leather boots, by the way, very bodyguard-chic.”

“Thanks?” Bucky eyed Sam for help.

Sam shrugged as she continued, “Before you ask, me and Sam go way back, but I am not older than him, okay?” She pointed a serious finger, not lowering it until Bucky nodded.

“Were you here during the blip?” asked Sam.

“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” Leila replied simply, as if that made her look a day over thirty. Sam couldn’t help but grin, and then his smile faded as Bucky squeezed his hand again.

Bucky tilted his head, listening. “That guy is talking to a local cop. Should’ve just taken the hit. That was a good hit,” he noted to Leila, then turning to Sam, “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll handle it,” she said with a smile.

“Or, get further out of eyeshot,” Bucky countered, “We drove, so-” He raised a brow to Sam. A breath left him as he read Sam’s expression. “Ah.”

“Yep.” Sam shook his damn head because clearly, he attracted chaotic folk from way back. Surely, Bucky wasn’t new enough in the game to imagine that Sam could keep normal friends.

“You’ve got a badge in your pocket,” Bucky guessed, looking at her impressed.

Ding. Her phone beeped and she read a text before asking, “Raincheck?”

Sam nodded. “Of course.”

Leila pulled them both into a quick hug, which Bucky took well considering the practice he had with the Wilson family. After nabbing one of Sam’s coffees, she started down the pier in the direction away from the plaza.

Sam realized, “I’ve switched numbers-”

“I’ll find you, Wilson.” And then she was gone like a passing storm, jogging in black wedges, braids flying behind her, making him finally notice the silver beads tied at the end.

Sam released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, moving into Bucky’s embrace just to decompress if anything. Bucky could feel Sam’s heart pounding, and he rubbed his back.

“Can I just say that she is awesome?” Bucky asked in a whisper.

Sam chuckled into his shoulder. “And chaotic.”

“I think I’m in love.”

He playfully hit Bucky, and they broke away, grins on their faces. The mood settled and Sam asked low with a tight smile, “That wasn’t too sudden, right?” eyes searching Bucky, “I- I didn’t mean to- It’s Leila, she wouldn’t-”

Bucky twisted his lip in thought. “Well, I’d rate that coming out an eight and a half.”

Sam didn’t mean to look so relieved. “Yeah! It felt right, baby.”

Bucky leaned in and his lips were on Sam’s, sucking the bit of anxiety from him softly, sharing the taste of coffee and sweets. Sam broke away with a sigh, his hands around Bucky’s waist. “We’re a live-in couple now, doll, tell the damn pope for all I care.”

“Wait, what would make coming out a 10?” Sam asked, squinting. 

“Explosions, definitely knocking a Nazi’s teeth out, and a couple of promise rings,” Bucky supplied too readily.

“Promise rings?”

“Then you’d carry me off like a Disney prince and declare down to the mere mortals,” he cleared his throat, voice like a kingdom period-piece, “‘Here ye, I name mine supersoldier consort, Ser Bucky-’”

“Consort?” 

“And then we say we’re gay and go home, have shower sex.”

Sam pushed out of his hold, picking up his remaining half-coffee. He turned on his photostatic veil before shaking his head, walking back toward the plaza. 

“D-doll?”

“My fault for entertaining it,” Sam said to the wind, holding out his hand.

Bucky took it, but he held a dejected pout. “You never let me have fun. It took me hours to perfect that on my boring trip.”

“If spying on our damn friend and fighting a lawyer is boring to you then we’ve set the bar too high, Buck. This is on every one of your loved ones for enabling this. I blame Sarah, too.”

~*~

Ace Hotel was located around the corner from Le Pavillon. Sam knew it was more Bucky’s style than the flashy marble entrance of the other place. Ace had a dark modern vibe inside. All of the furniture was brown or black wood, and the colorful sofas centered in the lobby had mature and muted cognac browns, sea greens and blues, plus some of the walls painted half-black. There were gold Victorian frames with abstract art all over the place. 

“Nifty,” Bucky murmured, pulling in their shared suitcase. Sam had already checked in, and he didn’t feel any judgment when asked if he was the only guest. The place had made it to three blogs on lgbt-friendly hotels, and the diverse sprinkles of folks in the lobby supported that. He must have missed the memo that New Orleans was great for dating this season. 

They took the elevator up to their floor, and Sam grinned. “I got a patio in our room.”

Bucky raised a brow. While Sam’s backpack contained the wings and some toiletries, Bucky’s backpack had an assortment of weapons; don’t say the man wasn’t consistent.

“Like, a sniper-friendly patio?”

“No one knows we're in the area,” Sam reminded him, leading the way down the hall, a sigh escaping. “We can have breakfast together, and it’ll be nice and sunny in the morning.”

“Mmm, getting up to something filthy under the morning sun.”

Sam laughed, opening their door. “Not what I said-“

“Wow,” Bucky interrupted as they shuffled inside. “I like this.”

Sam kept his smirk as he carefully placed down his bag, making space for the suitcase. The long spacious room had dark gray walls and low lighting. Its patio let in most of the sunlight, but Sam could already imagine how sultry the room might feel in the evening. 

There was a large king-sized bed with a dark leather loveseat at the foot of it to their right, an oriental-flower painted wardrobe to their left and a small breakfast table. Sam let himself roam further, taking in tall corner plants and he pushed open the patio door for a fresh breeze. The patio had two chairs and a round table, plants decorated in front of a black-painted garden fence. 

I like this, too. Sam smiled, feeling good about their arrangements as he trailed back inside, taking off his shoes. 

Bucky’s boots were off to the side, his jacket thrown over the loveseat, while he was nowhere to be found. 

The sound of water running took Sam to the bathroom door where he found Bucky testing faucets. The bathroom had one large porcelain sink, but there was a connecting door inside leading to the dark-gray-tiled standing shower with glass doors and a black toilet. 

“Everything’s running good,” he said in response to Sam watching him crouched down and staring under the sink. He rose with a grin, pointing behind him. “We can both fit in there.”

Sam raised a brow, stepping into the dry shower to test the space. His voice echoed off the walls, “You know, we don’t have a tub at home either.”

Bucky followed, cramping the space easily, though it was more comfortable without his leather layers. Sam raised his arms to Bucky’s shoulders. 

“Would have taken up too much space,” Bucky said, his voice echoing before he leaned in for a kiss. “I was thinking we could build a closed-off patio with a hot tub. Kind of serves the same purpose.”

Sam hummed and smiled, arms wrapping around his neck. “I do love hot tubs.”

“And I love Captain America.”

Sam gushed, bumping his nose. “Oh, stop-“ Bucky smiled, tightening his arms around Sam’s waist. He trailed kisses down Sam’s cheek and then to his neck, and Sam sighed, moaning out, “Remember Christmas…”

Bucky stopped. 

They made the silent decision to leave the shower and go back into the bedroom. Neither brought up the last hotel where they made out clothed in a shower and Bucky accidentally hit the nozzle, spraying them with cold water on a chilly night. 

Bucky started to pull off his henley as Sam raised a brow. 

“Buck, not what I meant.”

Huff.

~*~

“The cottage is kind of bright,” Sam added, sitting on the leather couch with Bucky. He finally tasted a sweet beignet, humming approvingly as his legs draped across Bucky’s lap. “Which probably threw me off since you’re more of a dark knight vibe.”

Bucky bit his lip, thinking as he rubbed Sam’s knee. “I figured white would be easier if you want to… paint it together?”

Sam licked his fingers, smiling. He scooted closer, repositioning such that he cuddled against Bucky’s chest. “I’d love that. We could do a blue- no- a soft peach in the kitchen, rainforest green in the bathroom.” He glanced around the room. “Gray bedroom?”

“I like gray,” Bucky murmured, plopping a piece of beignet into his own mouth, prompting them both to chuckle.

“We should finish the exterior, too. Sarah’s kind of appalled that we don’t have a doorbell.”

“Knocking’s easier.”

“Right!”

“What about the landscape?”

“I’ve always wanted a garden,” Sam admitted, “Could grow some tomatoes, tulips, roses.”

Bucky kissed his shoulder. “Mm. Plus a bird bath and a tree swing. I can build a shed with a hidden wall for guns.”

Sam choked. “How romantic, a gun wall.” And then his imagination explored, “How about a garage? Could work on your bike.”

“Bike?”

He smirked, looking over his shoulder. “I know you’ve always wanted one, hot stuff.”

Bucky started to reply, and his phone vibrated. They shifted for him to be able to pull it from the pocket of his tight jeans, and he hummed. “Weird.”

Sam stretched his neck to see the screen.

“Green goblin spotted outside of Little Rock, definitely looks like that brainiac one.”

Arkansas?

Sam made a sound as he pushed out of his comfortable lean. “I’m gonna call Joaquin, get him to double-time on his little algorithm.”

Bucky nodded. “I’ll order some sandwiches.”

“For?”

“Thinking food.”

“Of course… how could I forget.” 

~*~

Evening came, though in the sunny city it didn’t feel like it. At 6PM, people were still out and about and there was an orange glow over the sky. 

“So what’s your plan for getting into Rhodey’s hotel?” Sam asked, walking up the steps to Le Pavillon holding Bucky’s hand.

He still had on his dark henley and leather jacket, tight but loose enough for a few knives. Sam had his wings underneath his brown jacket, but he didn’t want to need them. Redwing was surveilling the alleys, instructed to remain on standby.

They passed the desk and a couple checking in, heading into the elevator.

“So you don’t have a plan?” 

“I do.”

“What is it?”

Ding.

They left the elevator down a long carpeted hall that made Sam feel painfully middle-class. Bucky at least walked like a man with a plan. He stopped in front of a door and, to Sam’s surprise, plainly knocked, saying in a clear voice, “Room service.”

Sam’s jaw fell. “This is your plan?” he asked in a whisper, “Bucky what the fuck-“

“One moment!” a voice called back that sounded just like James “Rhodey” Rhodes.

Fuck.

There’s no way he’s going to fall for that, Sam thought. 

The door clicked open before Bucky could argue back and Sam half expected the Iron Patriot to have four missiles aimed at them. Instead, Rhodey stood there with a plain expression on his face. “Barnes… I don't suppose you've got a new job.”

“Bucky,” Bucky corrected him. “And no.”

“Who cares!” Sam snapped.

Rhodey turned to Sam and raised a brow.

“Sam,” Sam announced himself.

Rhodey squinted, and then Sam deactivated his photostatic veil. Rhodey’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Sam?”

“This shit is getting old.” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Letting us in?” Bucky asked quickly as a couple walked down the hall chatting amongst themselves.

Rhodey hesitated and then nodded, moving to the side and motioning.

Sam and Bucky entered the hotel room - excuse me, suite - and Sam felt so jealous for a moment that he couldn’t see straight or gay. He couldn’t see, period, what the fuck - was that real gold trim in the living room? The last time he felt so poor was in Sharon’s villa. 

“What the hell is your budget!?” Sam blurted out, finally noticing the gun Rhodey had tucked in the back of his chinos. So he did have some sense.

“Not important,” Bucky said, pacing into the spacious low-lit room, his arms crossed, “This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

Rhodey looked incredulous, tired like a politician, and pissed like someone who’d already dealt with a slew of issues already. 

“Excuse me, but it’s fucking rude enough that you waltz in here lying about my room service - I’ve had a long day, nice to see you guys after what, months? - and now you’re threatening me.” Rhodey almost laughed like a man who was losing it. “God, I hate this job.”

Sam didn’t believe that for a second. They all had to love work this crazy to keep it up when they could’ve walked away. The man had literally come back from not being able to walk. As Rhodey paced to the mini bar, shaking his head, it gave Sam a chance to settle into the mood he needed for this conversation.

“Rhodey.”

A sigh as his glass filled with scotch. 

“We need to talk.”

Rhodey took a sip, eyes shadowy. “Really, I couldn’t tell.”

“Gamma soldiers,” Bucky snapped, slamming his right hand on the counter. 

Sam didn’t miss the way Rhodey flinched, a man who honest to God didn’t scare that easily. “I’ve got this, Buck.”

Rhodey lowered his shoulders, walking to the white and gold couch where he had his suit jacket laid out, motioning to the couch across from him. Sam followed, seeing Bucky pour himself a drink from the corner of his eye and drink it as edgily as possible.

Sam looked forward. “I won’t beat around the bush, Rhodey. We’re investigating a couple of enhanced tagged at the scenes of violent incidents, basically shaking shit up on this coast.”

Rhodey furrowed his brow as Sam took off his jacket, revealing his tech armlet where he cast an image big enough for them all to see. It showed the images of Griffin and a redhead green woman, and the proof of Ryker’s old lab existing. The information was taken in with tense eyes.

“What does this have to do with me?” Rhodey tested. 

Bucky laughed. “You fucking serious? Your heart’s going like 180 right now.”

Sam darkened, able to feel the resentment bubbling up in himself as he analyzed Rhodey. He didn’t have super hearing or his goggles on, but he had a trained eye. Press conference Rhodey, one of the smartest negotiators he’d ever seen Rhodey, was sweating in front of him, clutching his glass tightly as he tried to drink down the nervousness. 

Relax, Sam said to himself, deciding to get up and walk to the large windows, the cityscape in front of him. Exhale.

“We pinned your location to the same areas as them,” Sam said to the landscape. 

Rhodey finally sighed. “I know you've been tagging my phone, I just didn’t know this is why.”

Sam whipped around, shocked. “You  know about these enhanced? Griffin, Prodigy, Grey-“ he let his voice drown, eyeing Rhodey wildly because he very much couldn’t recognize this man right now.

“-Mess,” Rhodey finished for him.

“Who’s the last?” Bucky asked tightly.

Sam felt his chest pounding.

“Mister Gideon.” Rhodey put down his glass.

“Huh,” Sam said simply, a smile cracking on his lips, and he didn’t log who’d moved first before he pulled his gun out, meeting a gray metal gloved hand. Bucky rushed over, his left hand balled into a fist, muttering, “Ugly it is.”

“Fellas, wait,” Rhodey hissed.

Sam didn’t lower his gun, unable to keep images flashing in his mind of how scared, how terrified Gideon must have felt being alone, realizing what he’d become, and then he felt equally angry with his brother for being a hypocrite and an asshole. Sam was angry with Rhodey for lying.

Wait.

“Did you know he’s my brother?” Sam asked in a whisper.

Rhodey didn’t meet his eyes. “Not at first.”

Sam laughed. Oh God. “At first!?” Bucky glanced over, jaw tight and eyes filled with concern. “I don’t get it, Rhodey… why are you still playing two sides? I thought I could trust you.”

Rhodey looked hurt, which Sam didn’t understand, and it made him feel sick, like crying, like breaking something. 

“Are you trying to kill them? Capture, or—“ God, he didn’t even want to imagine with the government’s history.

“Hell no! Absolutely not, Sam-“ Rhodey stammered, lowering his hands.

“No, you just want to make them government pets,” Bucky spoke up, eyes hard, “To handle your dirty work for you and keep your own hands clean.”

“Back up, let’s back the fuck up!” Rhodey snapped, and Sam tightened, lowering his own gun since Rhodey had.

“Sam, I did know about the gamma soldiers, but I’m not trying to do some weird lab shit or kill them. God, I’m not evil.”

“Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t follow orders like a loyal dog.” Bucky glared.

“Can you tone down the bad cop for one fucking second, Barnes?” Rhodey asked, looking exhausted.

“How did you find out about them?” Sam interrupted, crossing his arms.

Rhodey sighed, brow creasing. “I’ve been closing old cases for over a year, Sam. Things got messed up during the blip, and I’m assigned to fixing shit, like I always am.” He sat down again, and this time, Sam did, too. “Ryker’s lab was supposed to be a routine check-up, closed book and I’d go home, except his projects were still out there on the run.”

“So, it was use them or kill them?” Bucky guessed.

“Rhodey, to my brother…”

“That’s not how it worked,” Rhodey hissed through gritted teeth. “I contracted the former gamma corp to help with projects where normal humans can't. To give them a purpose and a way to keep the PTB off of them, not to enact evil, Sam. Please trust me, If I hadn’t, there’s no general that couldn’t blindly press a button and they’d be criminals or dead. And, believe it or not, they preferred that to listless wandering.” 

Rhodey took a deep breath as Sam’s brow softened, continuing, “I didn’t know he was your brother… something seemed off to me, so I looked it up, and then I found out.” He rubbed his palms on his thighs.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly,” Rhodey looked up, eyes sad, “He didn’t want me to. Even shook on it, gave him my word that I wouldn't. He didn't even ask for anything else...”

“And what about our word?” Sam hardened. “All we’ve been through together, Rhodey. This isn’t like you.”

Rhodey stared at the table. “I messed up, Sam. It’s been hard taking care of Lila alone. That’s not an excuse, but I was going to find a way to tell you, and the opportunity kept passing me by.”

Sam let a breath out, settling back into the too-soft cushions. Bucky didn't sit down, but he did walk around the couch and touch Sam’s shoulder.

“Is Lila doing okay?” Sam asked. 

Rhodey nodded. “Better, she was having trouble in school… bullying, it’s like things evolve and kids find something new to pick on. It was sneakers in our day, and now it’s-“ He shook his head. “Look, I’m trying to say I’m not your enemy here.”

Sam understood. “Okay...”

“So, what are you to them, their commander?” Bucky asked.

“No, a contractor. They’re not technically fugitives since I'm government, unless they leave the wider region. I have contracts with each of them, bounties, if you will.”

“Bounties?”  

“You mean kill contracts,” Bucky said, “Because not everyone is leaving these incidents breathing.”

Rhodey tightened.

Sam agreed. “Rhodey, I’m not going to believe you’re wanting to kill people, but we ran into Griffin and Prodigy, and they didn’t exactly seem to value anyone’s life. There’s evidence of mutants or enhanced being really hurt by these guys. Just look.”

“They’re unregistered-“

“And they’re still people.”

“It’s… this is my fault.” Rhodey groaned in defeat. “I’m not here to claim it isn’t, or only to sit through stupid meetings.”

Bucky narrowed. “Why are you here?”

Sam stared at Bucky and then back at Rhodey. 

“I want to  confirm the rumors myself… to know if and how I need to take action. I’ve supervised some contracts, but not all.” That accounted for the Iron Patriot’s location being in cities where the green soldiers were. Though that sounded ridiculous to Sam.

“You think they’re going to act out with your eyes on them?” Bucky asked, voicing Sam’s thoughts.

“I think… maybe you can help me,” Rhodey said with the gutsiness that only a man who’d dealt with bureaucrats could. “I have Grey and Mess handling a contract here. Help me out, and that way, I can tell you much more, anything you need to know that I’m able to answer.”

Sam gave Rhodey a really? face, and then groaned as Rhodey met him with glossy eyes and a hopeful face. “Fuck, fine, throw your elevator pitch.”

“Sam-“ Bucky whispered.

“And we’re using your room service. Plus, dinner for a week. I want access to the sauna and spa here, too, and Bucky wants... whatever Bucky wants.”

Rhodey looked relieved. “Done.”

Sam cringed, almost hating how easily the man agreed. Had he lowballed in this negotiation? He glanced at Bucky who merely shrugged, fire soothed. 

“Good, now let’s talk business.”

~*~

Sam felt exhausted leaving the pavilion with Bucky, but he didn’t want to go back to the hotel. They merely wandered, absorbing the information Rhodey gave them, along with the realization that the man had managed to contract a favor out of them so swiftly. 

“He really is the man behind Stark,” Sam sighed, leaning into Bucky.

“I hate how he just turned everything to his favor, fucking politician.”

Sam agreed. “We do have more information now, though, whether his stupid plan goes south or not.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulder, not quite out of place with the other people strolling at night or waiting to get into restaurants and clubs. 

“I just can’t believe he didn’t tell me…” Sam said to no one, eyes unfocused. “And what’s worse is I can’t even stay mad at him. The man looks like a wreck.”

“That’s not the kind of thing you keep from someone.”

Sam quieted. I’m keeping it from Sarah… am I really different from him? “What if I had found out sooner and wasn’t strong enough to face it?”

“Hey,” Bucky hissed, suddenly stopped him mid-walk, pulled his shoulders in. “You’re strong enough to face anything Sam, and every you is.”

Sam eyed Bucky, flitting between his eyes, dark blue in the shadow of a restaurant’s decorative lights, and then they kissed, not breaking away. Bucky held him long and passionately. There were a few glances but none lingering and if they did, Sam couldn’t care. Maybe his photostatic veil was glitching but those lips brought him back to a place of confidence, brought him home and he was powerful again, enough to know he could get through this.

“You’re right,” Sam whispered when he broke away.

“Christ, to hear that again,” Bucky moaned.

“Forget it.” Sam broke away, yanking Bucky by the hand as he stormed off, met by a low cackle. 

Bzzzz.

Sam slowed, eyeing Bucky before pulling his phone from his pocket. 

Unknown number.

His mind raced, unable to imagine who it could be with how crazy their week was getting. Sarah and the kids? No. Rhodey just dismissed them. The Avengers had his contact. He was on vacation. Maria would probably text first.

“I’ll answer it,” Bucky said, taking Sam’s phone and swiping the phone icon.

Sam couldn’t react before it was put on speaker. 

“Helloooo, Mr. Wilson?” Leila’s voice sang out, “Or is this another-“ There was commotion in the background. 

“Leila?” Sam asked in disbelief, moving closer to the phone. 

“Yay! Where’s Bucky?”

Bucky eyed Sam who nodded. “Right here,” he said quietly. 

“Oh, thank God, it’s an emergency and you have to come quickly.”

Sam was pretty sure he heard the sound of glass breaking but he couldn’t pinpoint a reason why. Were those pool balls smacking?

“Are you alright?” he asked anyway.

“Yesss! Now come quickly before the bar dries up- Oops- I mean before a big bad vampire gets me, Mr. hero.”

Bucky laughed under his breath.

“Uh okay, but I’m just Sam today.”

The phone cut, and Sam let out a long laugh, probably startling the random people crossing the street and listening to street pianists. A moment later, a location was sent to his message app, and he was sure that it was a bar.

“Oh, now we have to go,” Bucky grinned.

Sam groaned. “I’m tired.”

Bucky rubbed his hands on the side of Sam’s neck. “No, you’re pissed off.” He brung their foreheads close. “Isn’t she like your best gal from way back?”

Sam nodded.

“Then let’s unwind, throw a couple back.” Bucky murmured. “I promise to pull my punches if we get into a bar fight.”

“Fine,” Sam whined, “But only an hour, and I want the most expensive drinks.” He grumbled. “Should have pre-gamed at Rhodey’s.”

Bucky grinned, scotch still on his breath. “Let’s go save her from a vampire.”

Sam laughed, dragged down the streets. Jesus, he knew Leila was joking but his boyfriend had basically confirmed the existence of the bloodsuckers. 

As they passed outdoor events and street performers, he started to feel excited.

-tbc-

Notes:

And welcome new readers :> feel free to say hi!

Chapter 14: Friends

Summary:

Sam catches up with Leila. Rhodey’s plan begins…

The bar, Madnes, was in a low-lit seedy location that made Sam furrow his brows. 

“Madnes? That French?” Sam asked.

“I think the second ‘s’ fell off,” Bucky noted, unaffected by the fact that this place looked somehow dirty and exclusive at the same time. “I’m getting vibes.”

Sam raised a brow, lips curling as they approached the tall metal door. “Vibes?”

“You know, vibes,” Bucky returned, stressing the word as if that made its definition clearer, and then he knocked hard on the door.

Sam shifted nervously, the rasping echoing in his ears. There was a heavy shuffling of feet and then a vertical slit opened, revealing eyes that almost glowed. Okay, that didn’t freak Sam out at all. He felt very calm, his heart was not beating wildly. 

“Well?” the pair of eyes asked, “Aren’t you going to say the password?”

Bucky glared at him, and Sam felt alarmed at the lack of details they had been given. A bar on a side street easily missed, and now Bucky was glaring at whoever was letting them in. Had Leila meant some other bar? Maybe the GPS read the coordinates wrong.

Worse, Bucky continued to glare as if that would get them inside-

The eyes sighed. “Fine, I get it,” and quieter in annoyance, “Everyone forgets the damn password.”

Sam picked up his jaw when the steel slit shut on them and then the door unlocked, suddenly opening to reveal a dark, spacious bar, decorated with ceiling lights. The eyes belonged to a man who looked very tired of his job and equally in need of sun. He motioned them in. Never mind that the glaring actually worked. That should not have worked. Sam was never letting Bucky go to a bar alone again, mutant or not.

“Uh, Buck?” he asked as they paced in together, passing a long counter with red fairy lights and earning a few glances, the sizing-you-up kind. A woman was sitting on a man’s lap biting his neck - very hard to miss. Another man had a third eye on his forehead. “When you said vibes…”

A clamor of cue balls cracking caught his attention, and the loud whoop that belonged to Leila. “Read 'em and fucking weep!”

Sam found her easily, still as well-dressed and sitting on a pool table holding a cue. She was surrounded by onlookers drawn to her energy like butterflies to light. Or, moths.

“I’m gonna get us drinks,” Bucky said and patted his shoulder, trailing toward the bar.

Sam nodded, but he knew that tone meant reconnaissance. Work mode Bucky that would figure the place out through prying questions and well-placed glares. The bar was a decent size with booths and dark corners on the other side. Suddenly, Sam was glad for his photostatic veil and jacket covering his neck and face. He hadn’t made enemies of mutants as a class - yet - and maybe now wasn’t the time to start.

He approached the pool table, making his presence known. “Hey?”

“Shh,” Leila shushed him, leaned over it, back to him, very focused on her shot. A man seeming pale and distressed stood across from her holding a cue stick.

Sam smirked, crossing his arms. Eyes watched her carefully, and she smacked the last ball into the hole, squealing loudly as the man growled.

“Alright-” Sam started, hair raising on the back of his neck as she held out a palm.

“Pay up, Cullen.”

Cullen, Sam supposed, approached her, demeanor hostile and he hissed. Sam blinked, hissed? with a mouth containing very sharp white fangs. Leila still kept her hand out and he grumbled before dropping a bill into it and pushing past Sam.

“I didn’t cheat, by the way!” she called after him. “See you next time!”

Sam didn’t miss the flash of red eyes before Cullen was gone, and then he looked at Leila crazily. There was no way in hell that man was a regular human, or Sam was drunk on life itself. 

“What?” Leila asked, pocketing her keeps, “Surely, you aren’t scared to be here?”

Sam scoffed, closing their distance. “Of course, not. You didn’t tell me-“

Actually, did she?

Vampire.

He changed his approach, not wanting to be wrong. “Why are you hanging out somewhere so seedy?”

There was a scoff, and he met the visage of a tall woman in sleek all-black, a leg crossed on her high table seat. “Thought you said Cap could hang.”

Leila smiled. “I said Sam could hang.” She sashayed around the pool table, setting up a new triangle as the woman chuckled, eyes dragging over every inch of Leila. She sipped from a rock's glass. Sam raised a brow, and then Leila pulled his attention back. “Right, bestie?”

“Sure.” Sam swallowed, feeling the glare of the woman, and he quickly composed himself, crossing his arms. “I can.” He smirked. “And I don’t need to cheat to whoop your ass in pool.”

Leila hollered, the sound echoing in the small space, and he smiled for real this time. “You’re on, Samuel. After Terry, he’s been dying for a re-match.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that. No one calls me that.” Sam made a yuck face as if that wasn’t his name.

“I call you that,” Bucky said, appearing behind him with a tray of three drinks in different colors and two shots of something dark and shimmery.

Sam scoffed as Leila’s brows raised, taking in Bucky’s appearance blending in with the dark walls. He looked like he belonged in the place.

“No, you don’t,” Sam argued back, “And don’t start. Anything Leila tells you that doesn’t show me in the best light, just forget it.”

Bucky’s soft smile met him, answering the question on Sam’s eager face looking over the tray. “Mai tai, Sidecar, Martini.” 

Bucky glanced at Leila. “Taylor, right?”

“Leila,” she said with a pearly smile.

“Please share anything embarrassing about Sam, starting from the 1980s. Visuals are a big help.”

There was a quiet look of surprise on her face, and then she laughed. “He’s kidding,” Sam confirmed, chuckling awkwardly, shooting don’t you dare eyes. “And wait - who’s Terry?”

“I’m Terry,” a voice said, and Sam looked over his shoulder to see a man emerge from the small private men’s room. “But the name’s Terrance.”

Sam raised both brows, taking in a very familiar visage as Bucky placed a mai tai in his hand. Terrance’s outfit was plainer than that church Sunday, but he wore skinny jeans and a tropical button-down shirt, hair slicked back with the tips dyed purple.

“Oh, hell no. Don’t tell me you’re a… you know, a vampire.”  

A snort came from over his shoulder as Bucky downed one of the dark shots. “He’s not.”

“Not that I last checked. Have we met?” Terrance asked. 

Bucky snorted.

Terrance’s eyes fell on him, smiling as he added, “We’ve met. New boyfriend?”

Sam hated this joke. Leila was cackling too as he crossed his arms in defense. “Sam is right here, you jerks. And I’m not turning this veil off so you’d better use your damn imagination.” 

They all laughed and even the woman in the corner as Sam sipped his drink angrily, prompting his eyes to fall on her.

“Lieutenant Monica,” Leila said with a smirk.

“Apparently they allow badges in here,” Bucky muttered.

Hah.

She certainly had an air of authority to her, one that wasn’t afraid to get dirty. Sam couldn’t say Leila didn’t attract those types.

“Just Monica,” she corrected, eyes drifting between Sam and Bucky, crossing her arms like she could take both of them. Then she broke eye contact, reaching over to tilt her beer back. They were dismissed.

“Right…” Sam said with a polite smile, downing half of his mai tai. He would need it.

~*~

“Come on!” Terrance shouted, missing a ball for the third time in a row. Sam laughed, feeling a lot more loose and tipsy, holding his cue stick, leaned against Bucky.

Bucky’s arm came around him, rubbing Sam’s shoulder as he smiled. Sam noticed the relaxed smile on his boyfriend’s face.

“What was in those shots, by the way?” he asked with a whisper.

“Well, I said I got tolerance higher than anything they can serve.” Bucky chuckled, a little tipsy. “I think they took that as a challenge cause I feel kind of drunk.”

“Let me try.”

“Hell no, I’m not trying to take you out, sweetheart.”

Sam made a pouty face, but he understood. 

The last time he tried the stuff that Thor carried around, when he came to he was floating in one of Stark’s pools, wearing Clint’s outfit. They had managed to swap at some point, and even Friday couldn’t log when. Bucky and Steve were passed out on the floor and had to be carried to their rooms. Two-hundred pound hunks.

Sam came back into focus, feeling Bucky’s other hand reach across and brush his chin, pulling his face forward. A smile spread on his face again and he kissed Bucky quickly.

“Aw,” Leila cooed disgustingly, and Sam rolled his eyes, breaking away to make a mean face. Childish, but he couldn’t help it

Terrance finally sighed, relinquishing his cue stick. “I’m beat, who’s in?”

“Come on, Bucky,” Leila said his name like it was a secret. “Show me what you got.”

Bucky pushed out of his lean and took the cue. “Fine, but I do have some advantages.”

That made all of them laugh harder when he missed his first two turns.

“So,” Sam said as Terrance leaned on the chair next to him, nursing a beer. “When you said New Orleans you meant New Orleans.”

Terrance chuckled. “Yeah, I live here live here. I’m surprised to catch you again after you disappeared on business.”

Sam groaned. “Don’t remind me, I’m here to forget work.”

“I see things are going well in the relationship department. Y’all are adorable.” Terrance beamed.

“Oh, shut up.” Sam made an exasperated sound, eyes sparkling. “Tell me more.”

Terrance laughed easily, and Sam smiled, feeling again like this was someone he could make friends with. And, for real, how many gay friends did he have? Who weren’t calling him to bars in the middle of the night, that is. Sam glanced at Leia.

“How’d you meet Leila?” Terrance asked.

“High school.”

“Daaamn.”

Sam chuckled as she made a face at Bucky once he got his pool mojo. “Yeah, we go way back.” He smiled softer. “She was one of my first friends like us, I just didn’t expect to see her here. She’s lived all over.”

“You’re really lucky.”

“Yeah.” Sam looked at Bucky. Then he asked, “You?”

A chuckle met him. “I’m just a local, man. I see a face enough times and it becomes familiar. She’s all over the city and always stops here. I think she comes to the city for work, and… between you and me,” Terrance stretched the words, and Sam smiled, leaning in closer as he felt the vibe of delicious gossip beginning. Terrance whispered, “She visits for a certain Lieutenant.”

Sam’s eyes drifted to Monica, her brown skin shining under a yellow light. She was talking to Bucky, seeming amused by whatever he had to say. Sam eyed the knife in his hand and his smug posture, deducing that he was bragging about the rarity of his collection. Sam didn’t miss how Monica managed to talk to Bucky and still drift her eyes over to Leila who was beating him.

“You sly woman.” Sam shook his head in disbelief. How could she not share that with him? 

“They’re adorable, I can’t stand them.”

Sam made a face in agreement, secretly hoping there was a story between them that she’d share. “Hey, Terry. It doesn’t bother you being around so many…?” 

“Mutants?” Terrance offered.

Sam nodded. 

He seemed to consider his answer with a gulp of his beer, saying, “This city ain’t like the small towns, Sam. New Orleans has always been a mixing pot, and being different or not doesn’t change that. I think.”

Sam understood, brow relaxing. “That’s good.”

A place where people could co-exist and there was space for everyone. The fact that TT felt comfortable living there for so many years had to mean something. In a way, Sam wanted his tenure as Cap to represent that vision - of everyone being worth saving. Some of Karli’s wishes still lived within him, even if her means weren’t the best. The silence sank in, and Terrance didn’t comment if he noticed Sam slipping into deep thought.

With a smug look, Sam returned and changed the subject. “Sure you ain’t a vamp? I can keep a secret.”

Terrance laughed, hitting him. “Do I look like a damn vampire?”

He squinted. “Maybe from the side.”

~*~

Sam leaned over the pool table, focused deeply when the metal sensation of Bucky’s hand touched his hip. Jesus. He jumped and then gaped as a perfect turn was wasted.

“Buck, come on!” 

“I was holding you steady.”

“I am steady!”

“Doll-” Bucky squinted, silently calling bullshit, still holding his very tipsy boyfriend. Sam pouted, turning back to see the perfect path that he had mapped out between a striped nine and solid four-ball ruined. Ugh, fine. The sidecar had hands.

Leila sipped her drink loudly, eyeing them from her high chair, and holding her cue stick. “Samuel, were you always so domestic?”

Sam might have blushed, but he was already really hot from the lights and he couldn’t take off his jean jacket since that would expose the wings attached to his back. Instead, he made a disgusted face, the most appalled face he could muster.

“How could you assume that?” he accused, a hand over his chest. “The captain is an eligible bachelor, Miss Taylor.” According to the tabloids.

Bucky smiled to himself, drinking down another one of those dark might-be-poison-might-be-alcohol shots. 

Leila scoffed. “You are so dramatic! I’m not stupid, y’know. I looked y’all up, and I know Bucky’s a hot fossil.” She shook her head. “This very cute relationship could be the next biggest scandal I write about, but I won’t.”

“You won’t,” Sam dared.

“I just said I won’t! I do have standards.” She huffed, channeling her irritation into a perfect shot that made him hiss in discomfort. Now he was losing, thanks to his missed shot earlier.

Sam leaned back against Bucky as he sipped his martini, feeling mismatched hands come around his waist, a chin on his shoulder. “So, that’s all you do, write?”

“Which is a respectable profession,” she muttered low, focusing before hitting another ball into a hole and then standing upright, smug as he crossed his arms, motioning for her to go again. “I could head the Daily Bugle soon, Samuel.”

“Good, then you can fire whoever writes that anonymous fashion… blog.” The muscles in his face loosened. 

This time, she missed her shot.

“You are a traitor.”

Leila burst into a laugh.

“You’re the one calling me homophobic!?” Sam asked a little too loud, and then his face heated like fire, thanking God for his face veil. The glances to their area were too much to bear. He wanted to sink into the floorboards and die. Was it too early to cash in his loft in Heaven?

Bucky choked on a scotch, putting it down to clear his throat. “I’m gonna get water.”

Sam didn’t affirm him, he was too busy hissing, “Traitorous, horrible, anti-ally, anti-Cap, anti-Sam-” 

Leila gaped. “Oh, wow! Slow down!” She leaned in closer, eyes serious though she still kept her Cheshire Cat grin, whispering, “I am not anti. I am simply keeping the press of your ass and encouraging you to dress more modern.”

“I’m southern.” He shook his head. “I don’t need to wear damn skinny jeans.”

Leila rolled her eyes. “Your boyfriend’s a centenarian and look at him.” She pointed to the bar. “That man is dripping in sexy, Samuel. You’ve got it going on, flaunt it!”

Sam pouted, unable to deny the very clear sex appeal of his very old boyfriend. Or, that he did have a body he worked hard for himself. But he wasn’t going to let her win, especially not with a whole drink or two in him. He picked up his cue and charted a path through the balls. “You’ve been living in New York for too long. And that column did hurt my feelings, but thanks for keeping the press off my ass, literally.”

Luckily, his shot made it, even tipsy, and the game started to turn in his favor.

~*~

Sam leaned against the bar chairs as Bucky spoke to Monica and Terrance, face in its usual serious mold, but brows soft, and to boot, he even smiled a few times.

It was nice, really, just watching Bucky let loose and interact with people outside of himself. Granted, Sam loved Bucky and wanted to keep him locked in a sexy little box forever, but there was something soul-fulfilling in good trouble and there was a connection Sam could feel between Terrance and them, like the beginnings of a real friendship.

“The queen returns, and she refuses to play any more games.”

Sam smirked. “That’s cause you lost to the king of pool.”

Leila made a face, handing him a glass of water. “You want to get some air?”

He thought quickly and then nodded, giving a hand gesture to Bucky. An affirming glance met him, he downed the water, and then they were trailing out of a side door into the alleyway. 

The moon cast a slight glow but otherwise it was dim and Sam didn’t let that bother him. Cool air felt great.

“So… Mister Wilson,” Leila said, leaning against the brick wall.

“Yes, Miss Taylor?”

“No one to hide from out here.” He smiled and turned off his face veil, then took off his jacket. “Whoa, are those the wings?”

Sam chuckled. “Not exactly, this is my dark set. And no, you’re not getting a free glimpse.” Leila made a pouting face and he immediately gave in. “Fine, for one second.”

He deactivated sleep mode and told her to stand back, making sure he had enough space before shifting his shoulders and flexing the wings out, earning a loud gasp.

“Woooow!”

Sam rolled his eyes, cheeks red, and he retracted them.

“Sam, those are so cool! I’d love to write an article: Five ways to romantically carry someone with wings-“

“Lei, come on!”

She grinned, and then they both laughed, sitting on a stack of crates together.

Sam smiled, leaning against her shoulder, and she returned the gesture. “You never change, Lei. Being here of all places, punching five-foot-nine weirdos, having all types of friends. Hanging in a mutant bar.”

“Mutants are people too, Sam.” She nudged him. “I think you’re doing alright yourself. Saving the world. Wearing wings. Doing your squats.”

“Bet you never imagined us like this in high school.”

She laughed. “Well, we’re adults now. Some people stay in high school forever, even after they graduate, stuck in some what if.”

“Yeah…” he stared at nothing. “I guess sometimes I miss it. The world being smaller. Throwing back drinks and dancing to hot shit. I can’t remember what I was really responsible over back then. It feels like nothing now.”

She turned, beaded braids shifting as she caught him in a dark-eyed look, barely visible in the light. “I don’t miss it.”

“Not even a little?”

“Hell no. Sure, I had the cutest boyfriend and a monopoly on the best high school paper in all of Louisiana, but now we have so much more. We’re seeing a bigger picture with so many more colors now, Sam.” She sighed, taking his hand. “It’s so easy to think, ‘Damn, I’d love to go back and show the naysayers who’s boss’ but then I wouldn’t be Leila Taylor. Who’s going to do what I do if not me?”

Sam’s eyes glossed. “Yeah, I get that.”

She didn’t let his hand go. “What’s bothering you?”

He looked at her surprised.

“Samuel, we did not stop being best friends just because we grew up.”

Sam laughed and then sighed. “Honestly… you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Is it Bucky?”

“God, no.” Sam took a deep breath, shaking his head. “He’s the one thing I’m certain of.” He lowered his voice, “But… not everyone approves.”

Leila raised a brow. “And?” Her eyes widened. “Wait, is it your family?”

“Listen…”

~*~

Leila was pacing, and Sam stared away. He was past the ability to drive in drunkness.

“Lei, you’re making me dizzy.”

“I’m processing this.”

He smiled, leaning his head back against the wall. “Welcome to the club.”

“My stance doesn’t change, Sam,” she said firmly, “You can’t hold yourself hostage to what other people think.”

“Trust me,” he said, sitting forward. “I’m not. Me and Bucky are…” His face heated as a smile crept on her lips.

“Endgame?” She asked with shiny eyes and didn’t let him answer, adding, “Even so. If your brother wants to be an asshole, he doesn’t need access to you.”

Sam flinched. “I know, but it’s different with us. How many folks like us just cut off their literal family? The people they care about?”

She crossed her arms. “Sam, people break up with their relatives for petty stuff all the time. This is different, this is your life. I don’t have siblings, but… I’ve had folks try to switch up on me when they found out I can love anyone, even those who knew me for years.”

“But-“

“No buts”—she approached him and held her hands out to his, pulling him up with a grunt. “Focus only on who loves you.”

Sam kept his hands held in hers, looking down at her, and then they hugged tightly, and it healed something in him that he knew had been still aching.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “For hearing me out, and…” He felt his face heat despite the cool night air. “For accepting me.”

Leila laughed against his t-shirt. “Sam if you hadn’t noticed, I’m very fruity-”

“Please! You always mess up my moments!” Sam nudged her shoulder as she laughed as they broke away, him waiting for her to calm down before he added, “I mean it, Lei. Sarah and the kids know, and some colleagues, but I feel like those are all people who have an obligation to me one way or another. You didn’t have to invite me out, and I…” 

“Sam,” Leila said in a different tone, squeezing his hand. “You made every single day of high school fun for me. I know we haven’t kept up as much as we could, but life happens. No one blueprints how to keep friends when you’re grown, you know?” He did know. “I’ve never stopped loving you! Even if you dress like someone’s dad. Let me handle Gideon, I’ll kick his ass personally.”

Sam chuckled hard as she gave him a funny grin, eyes serious. “Don’t, I’ve got it… we kind of already fought.”

She made a dramatic gasp. “Sam pacifist Wilson?”

He smirked. 

Screech.

They both jumped at the sound of a long scratch. Sam met Leila’s eyes and she seemed just as confused as he. He felt a hunch in his shoulders itching up to the nape of his neck.

“Let’s head back in.”

~*~

Sam grabbed his jacket and followed her into the side door, Bucky and co. gone from the pool tables where they were drinking.

“Buck?” he asked, and then the clamoring of chairs met him. 

Leila made a surprised look as Sam turned toward the main space of the bar, past the dance floor. Bucky stood, jacket off, metal glistening against the soft strobing lights. Monica was next to him, and Sam followed their pissed-off glares as he trailed inside toward the counters.

“Who the hell are they?” Leila whispered.

“Get back,” Sam said quietly, heart picking up, getting between her and the crowd.

Mutants - otherwise civilians - were along the bar watching with careful eyes. 

Bucky eyed Sam carefully, and Sam understood even through his liquor that this was a hostile situation. In front of them was a woman with red hair and green patches of skin along her body. She wore a dark v-neck vest, exposing green scaly skin along half of her face and ear, and along her left arm, too. The man next to her was big and built solid, skin a grayish tint of green. Sam didn’t need a damn picture glossary to see that these were Rhodey’s agents. Mess and Grey. Those they needed to watch out for.

They seemed like ordinary mutants from the outside, but they gave off a vibe that made Sam’s skin crawl up his back to his wings. This wasn’t Griffin and Timothy. Their eyes were focused, clear with a shade of leadership and efficiency like a kill squad.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked in a firm voice, falling in line next to Bucky. He felt them size him up, but he didn’t show any fear.

Monica answered first. “These assholes came in here making demands, thinking we wouldn’t sniff rats from the outside.”

A few voices jeered in the bar.

Sam raised a brow. Bucky continued, thankfully, but his words made ice run up Sam’s veins. “They want Terry.”

“What!?” Leila shouted, breaking the ice, attention flitting to her for a moment. “Does he owe you a debt?”

Bucky tightened his fists and almost growled below his breath. “He doesn’t owe them shit.”

Mess spoke up, pressing her lips together plainly. “It’s nothing personal, Winter Soldier.” 

The name elicited whispers and eyes were on them. Sam’s pupils drifted to Terrance who he realized was standing behind Monica, practically shaking. “Then why do you want an innocent man?”

“Innocent?” She raised a brow. “Terrance Sorenson is far from innocent.”

Sam widened, eyes drifting behind them to Terrance. Was that true?

No, it doesn’t matter right now.

His fists tightened, along with his resolve. Being attacked didn’t give the man a chance to explain himself. “You’re gonna have to go through us, first.”

-tbc-

Chapter 15: Bar Fight

Summary:

Sam and Bucky fight to save Terrance, tipsy. Bucky helps Sam recuperate.

Explicit

Notes:

This is a messy one but I like it 😂 slutty Bucky returns.

Sam didn’t have time to feel bad for trashing the cute quaint bar because he was busy being kicked through a wooden chair by Mess with more strength than someone’s right leg should have had, crashing into a side table and knocking it over. He got back up in time to watch Bucky wrestle with Grey, lifted and slammed onto the pool table. Sam wished he hadn’t knocked so many back, but how the hell was he supposed to know they would appear!?

“Buck!” he shouted.

“Kind of busy-“ Bucky grunted, sliding across the floor next to Sam. The ground squeaked under him, and on a normal sober mission, Sam might have laughed, but he wanted to hurl. After those not-poison shots, Bucky seemed to share his sentiments.

Bucky jumped to his feet, groaning. “Now I’m pissed.”

“Weaklings are always pissed.” Grey smirked, cracking his knuckles as he towered toward Bucky, huge and broad, easily surpassing six feet, but Sam knew those feral blue eyes said Bucky wasn’t fucking around.

“We’ve gotta hightail out of here,” Sam hissed, analyzing the situation in Cap-Falcon mode . 

There were others who hadn’t fled for their safety, but they seemed to be upset staff or superpowered, or people otherwise taking in free entertainment. Still, innocents. He couldn’t let this get messy. The side door was blocked by Bucky and Grey’s fight, and the big guy didn’t seem to be going anywhere, taking Bucky’s hits with impressive endurance. Monica and Mess fought in front of Terrance. 

“Got a plan?” Bucky asked as Grey slid back, then he threw a mean left gut punch at the hulk-like enhanced, an angry growl leaving him. 

“Yeah…” Sam eyed Monica. She took a green hit that made her cough hard from Mess, but there was a flash of something light in her eyes that he liked, and her movements were fast. Terrance was hiding between both fights, but his posture was angled like someone looking for an opening. And they only hunted mutants and enhanced.

The back of Sam’s head buzzed, pieces clicking together.

He has an ace.

“Hold him off,” Sam hissed, instructing Redwing to assist and distract, and it detached from his pack, shooting colorful laser beams at Grey as Bucky fought, looking both grateful and annoyed.

Sam made it to Monica as a green fist almost hit her off-guard, which she blocked, flying back into a stool, groaning from the impact.

“Kick her ass, Monie!” Leila jeered from behind the bar, ducking as Mess looked back at her with dark, irritated eyes.

“Terry, can we talk?” Sam demanded as he threw a kick at Mess, gritting as she stopped it with her left hand and then attempted to disable his ankle. His only way out was a flip with his wings that knocked her into a pool table. 

There were gasps and claps, and he didn’t have time to eat up the attention as Monica growled, “Sure, take your fucking time.”

“What’s your ability?” Sam made it back to Terrance just as he looked like he might haul ass. He hesitated as Mess got up, making Monica curse out loud. “Come on, I know you have one. I’m going to need you to answer if you want out of here. Three, two-“

“I-ice-“ Terrance stuttered, wincing like he revealed some god-awful secret. “Fire.”

“Which one?” Sam asked quickly, wings deploying a shield as Mess threw a hit behind him that made Terrance flinch, whispering, “B-both.”

Mess immediately shouted in pain, drawing Grey’s attention, and Sam couldn’t blame her. The last time he threw a punch at something vibranium, his soul willingly left his body, and T’Challa sent him to Shuri’s lab with a pitiful look while Bucky laughed so hard he fell over, only one arm and terrible balance back then.

“I have it,” Sam whispered, eyes flitting, then he squinted at Terrance. “Do exactly as I say!”

~*~

Sam retracted his shield and shoved Mess back, asking, “Why are you after Terry?”

She gritted, wiping a spot of blood off her lip as she pulled out a pair of daggers. “You ever heard of a job? He can come in dead, or alive, nothing personal.” Her smile spread wide, making Sam’s skin crawl.

“You don’t care that he has people who love him?” Sam asked quickly, eerily understanding the danger of a knife fight while intoxicated. “What about the other jobs you’ve taken that end up in body bags?”

Mess paused, eyes going over the information he’d just revealed to her. The calm answer met him, “It doesn’t make a difference to me. Everyone you love gets taken eventually. It’s us or them.”

Sam stirred, unable to imagine his brother running in line with these kind of heartless soldiers, and then sense came to him, and he shouted, “Now!”

Mess looked alert before steam burst into the air. Patrons and bar-fighters alike panicked as Sam tuned his goggles to the exits Redwing marked.

“Guide mode,” he instructed as he grabbed Terrance by the front of his shirt and ran toward the exit, praying Bucky would understand the signal and follow Redwing. Sam would have to entrust Leila to Monica.

Terrance gasped for breath once on the street, one arm hot and the other cold before they came to normal temperature, one of his sleeves burned off and the other damp.

“Come on,” Sam said, deploying his wings, “Get in my arms, don’t make it weird.”

Terrance looked at him crazy. “And get murdered by your guy? I think not.”

A window smashed and Grey stepped out onto the pavement, cracking his joints, speaking for the first time in a thick, deep voice, “Stupid plan, bird-man.”

“How long did it take you to come up with that?” Sam snapped, urging Terrance on as Grey started to run. 

“On second thought-” Terrance winced and then grabbed onto Sam as he lifted off from the ground, wings flexing in the wind before Grey could take a grab at him, a frustrated growl leaving the huge man.

Sam held Terrance’s torso as he clung on for life, and then his thrusters carried them up to a building roof, stumbling to the edge but safe for a moment.

“I’m glad you’re Cap. It’s nice to know my girl will have a hero that looks like her,” Terrance suddenly said.

Sam gave him a confused smile. “Come on, don’t talk like you’re dying on me. We’re almost out of the woods.”

“Might be.” Terrance lifted his shirt, revealing a wound covered in ice. “Sucks, we were really hitting it off, you and me.” He sighed, coughing out a little blood.

Sam shouted his name. “Come on, hell no, let me look at that,” he rushed. Terrance leaned against a vent, and Sam scanned the wound with his goggles. Non-lethal, thank goodness, but with the blood lost… and…

Sam suddenly widened at the discoloration, whispering, “Fuck, that might be poison.” He ripped a piece of cloth from Terrance’s pants and pressed it to the wound.

“Ugh, and right before payday.” Terrance was taking this news brilliantly. Or, he was delirious, which wasn’t good, either.

Sam hesitated, typing on his wrist pad as he sent a message. “Why are they really after you?”

Terrance went quiet. 

“Hey, it’s just us,” Sam tried, and Terrance looked like he was about to speak before a voice radio’d in.

**“Uh, Sam? I’m kind of cornered. Some help would be cute.-“**

“Fuck, it’s Bucky.”

“Go,” Terrance said, and Sam didn’t waste time running to the edge of the building and leaping off of it, flying to the side of the club where he found Bucky with his guns drawn as the two gained on him.

Sam sent warning shots from his height, making them dive for cover as he landed in front of Bucky. “Hey, baby, need a ride?” he asked with a grin, and Bucky swore out loud as he grabbed Sam. The wings deployed into a shield as a weight hit his back, knocking them down. “Fuck-”

“Y’good?” Bucky asked, recovering quickly and shooting again, gun clicking on his last bullet. 

Sam growled, getting up as the room spun, remembering once again that his movements were slower. The unfortunate thing about being drunk was that his brain could only process one emotion at a time: it chose anger. “Did that asshole just throw a trash can at me!?”

Another item flew, a large box crate, and he ducked as it smashed against the wall. They were cornered, and the green assholes weren’t about to give them the space to fly off.

“Our fight isn’t with you,” Mess said. Really kind, wow. “Hand over Terrance Sorenson and we’ll let you go alive rather than in pieces.”

“Or die now,” Grey supported with a smirk.

Bucky snorted. “Are all green people assholes or something?”

“Hey, we don’t discriminate. An asshole is an asshole,” Sam muttered, eyeing them both carefully as Bucky snickered. “There’s poison on her knives. Terry got hit with some.”

Bucky narrowed, face serious, sheathing his pistols and pulling out his blades. “Great, love a knife fight.”

That left the big guy to Sam, and he sighed, thinking, “And apparently I love being pummeled,” as he retracted his wings and ran straight at Grey, feeling Mess advance on his left before taking a knife to the shoulder, and while Sam pitied anyone fighting with Bucky on hand-to-hand territory, that left Sam a man bigger, stronger, and much harder to kill. 

Grey had a clear weakness, though. Her.

Grey broke concentration in the second that Sam slid past him and flipped with his wings, feeling them cut through hard muscle as Grey fell to one leg. He shouted in pain, but recovered quickly, throwing a fist that Sam blocked but it threw him back. Sam rolled out of the alley, a smile on his lips as he gained the chance to run and lift off.

Grey sped after him, giving Bucky space to fight; his initial goal.

Sssssss.

Sam paused, hovering as a bright blue light flashed along the telephone lines and then touched the ground, electrocuting Grey, and he fell down, shaking.

What the hell? Sam readied himself, shielding his eyes as the light flashed again, and then he saw Monica land on the pavement, looking as pissed-off as usual.

“Where’s Leila!?” Sam asked immediately, and she turned back to glare at him, pupils glowing that same blue. 

“You mean my girlfriend who you threw in harm’s way?”

Sam lowered to the ground, face serious, surprised, but serious, almost smiling because they really were a thing, but kind of pissed. There was a lot to process right now, and again, he chose anger. “Where.”

“Safe,” Monica said sharply. “Relax.”

“That quickly?” Sam glared at her, confused.

Monica scoffed, turning and crossing her arms. “You’re lucky I even came back to help your bird-suit ass, Captain. We in New Orleans don’t deal kindly with outsiders fucking around.”

Oh, I do not like her, Sam admitted to himself, but then he flinched. “We?”

Grey started to get up, breathing heavily, eyes wild with pure rage as he charged at Monica, and the speed he moved didn’t match his size. Sam couldn’t reach her as she took a punch that sent her flying, and the bullets Sam put in Grey’s legs only made him shiver like they were a tickle.

“Monica!” Sam shouted, using his wings to dodge a hit.

Think. Large. Fast. Angry. Fuck, it was hard to, and he needed to get Terrance to safety, and quickly. And if Monica was injured-

“That didn’t fucking feel good,” she muttered, getting up slowly and cracking her back, and Sam had to gape, seeing green flash in her eyes as she stared at Grey, suddenly asking, “How’s it work?”

“What?” Sam said dumbly.

“How’s his stupid ugly ability work!?” she snapped, suddenly levitating next to Sam in a blink, bruised and a lot more pissed off than a minute ago.

Sam swallowed. “G-gamma rays.”

“Science it to me,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

‘How does it work?’ Sam thought to himself, scrolling through the encounters he’d had and his dealings with the Gamma soldiers. “Uh, gamma energy in his body makes him stronger.” She hummed, and he didn’t know why this was important, but tried, pulling the little bits of science he might have overheard in Bruce’s lab out of his ass. “Enhances specific muscles, and- Ah! The radiation activates his power through electromagnetic reaction-” He flinched. “What’s so funny?”

Monica laughed. “I just wanted to see if you’d know. Get Terry out of here, bird-brotha.”

Before Sam could react, she landed on the ground, and the energy Grey had hit her with emanated through the air, blasting right back into him, knocking him down.

Fuck, Leila sure knows how to pick em.

Sam flew overhead to Bucky’s location, avoiding an object that Grey threw before Monica knocked him on his ass again, and Bucky threw Mess into a dumpster before brushing off his hands and then running to Sam and colliding into him. 

“Ow!?” Sam snapped, sucking in a breath.

“Now I could use that ride,” Bucky said with a smile, covered in filth, nonetheless beautiful to him, definitely not kissable right now.

“Hang on,” Sam murmured, lifting off and flying up to the building roof, arms tight around Bucky, sighing as he found Terrance lying where he’d left him, but his eyes were closed. “Shit, no, no.”

Bucky hopped down first, rushing to check his pulse, and he nodded as Sam landed. “Alive. The stuff she had is mostly paralyzing, I think he’s going to wake up.” Huh, Bucky tilted his head. “He’s freezing the wound, that’s smart.”

Sam flinched, seeing cuts on Bucky’s sleeve. After all, they weren’t in real gear, but plain clothes. “Baby, were you hit, too?”

Bucky shrugged. “I should be okay. For some reason, I think I’ve been stabbed with worse. Take Terry, I’ll meet up with you.”

“What!? Hell no-“

“He’s our priority.” Bucky smiled. “And I want to get on your ex-girlfriend’s good side so she’ll share the embarrassing theater photos we talked about.”

Sam rolled his eyes as Bucky leaned in and kissed him, pulling him in by his shoulder straps and then patting his chest, holding that cut-jaw smirk.

“Uh… I’m still alive,” Terrance whispered, peeking an eye open. 

Sam grinned, breaking away. “Let’s get out of here, Terry. Today’s not your D-Day.”

“That’s not what that means-“ Terrance tried.

“Shut up, cargo.” Sam picked him up by scooping under his knees and then supporting his back, earning a pained laugh.

Redwing hovered over Bucky, beeping fondly as he swatted at it. “You mind taking the robot?” Bucky shouted, getting smaller.

“Nah, keep our tech baby safe!” Sam yelled back, hearing a frustrated grumble in his earpiece before Bucky ran to the edge of the roof and climbed down, gone.

“Did I mention I’m afraid of heights?” Terrance asked, eyes snapped closed.

Sam smiled. “That’s the price of safety, my friend.”

Terrance chuckled. “Friend, I like the sound of that.” And then he was quiet, and Sam hurried to the rendezvous point that Rhodey sent him, hoping he would be okay.

~*~

Sam blinked surprised as he landed at a building no different looking than a hospital. Rhodey met him outdoors, and a team of nurses rolled a bed out. As he landed, they helped him place Terrance onto the bed, and he was taken.

“Is it okay for him to be here?” Sam asked, cautiously. “Or is this some kind of-“

“Special facility,” answered Rhodey, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder to guide him inside. “But yes, also a hospital.”

Sam nodded, following Rhodey into an emergency room lobby, and he wouldn’t have blinked twice had a kid sitting with his mom not sneezed and fire came out of his mouth. The nurse smiled and extinguished it as his mother apologized.

“Common cold,” Rhodey said with a sigh, “Crazy what we take for granted.”

That was for sure.

“This is a medical center that supports registered mutants and enhanced; they can receive treatment and support for various conditions, like any other people.” 

Terrance isn’t registered.

“Rhodey…” Sam gave him a stern look, crossing his arms. “Is he safe here? Terry is not just some case, he’s my friend, and I’m trusting you, and if this is-“

“Sam,” Rhodey said, pulling him to the side as a nurse pushed an old man in a wheelchair; he had blue skin. “Did you even know he was a mutant?”

Sam tightened. “That doesn’t matter.”

“He’s done crimes that he may have to answer for.”

Sam shook his head, staring at a woman who sat in a bed, floating. “Lately, it seems like all mutants are being put in that category. I’m not over this, Rhodey. Whoever you work for, Gov, S.H.I.E.L.D., S.W.O.R.D., whatever -  their methods have to change. I don’t want innocent people getting hurt.”

Rhodey quieted. 

“What?”

“I can’t vouch for how innocent he may be or not, Sam.” He sighed. “But I promise to help, and I won’t look over his case until he’s in fighting shape. He’ll be moved to a secure room, but you’ll have full visitation.”

“And his family?” Sam narrowed. “He has a daughter, Rhodey.”

Rhodey slowly nodded. “I’m aware she’s with a babysitter. You look like shit, though, I can get you a bed-“

“No.” Sam shook his head, opening the screen on his wristlet, seeing Redwing’s camera. “Bucky’s still out there. I need to meet up with him.”

Rhodey followed him out the door. “I’ve sent the duo a message that their contract was pulled; they should disengage.”

“And if they don’t?” Sam raised a brow, angrily, making his point as Rhodey exhaled. “I’ll be sending you Redwing’s footage.”

“I understand. Give me time to draft up some documents-“

**”Hey, Sam-**

Sam quickly answered, “Bucky, are you and Monica alright?”

**”Actually, yeah, we got some backup-“**

Relief filled Sam. “I’ve gotta go. Do your bureaucrat shit, but don't keep me in the dark. I mean it, Rhodey, I trust you.”

Rhodey nodded. “Thank you, Sam. I assure you, your friend is safe here.”

Sam took off, allowing his wings to carry him.

The autopilot led him to Bucky's point on his map where the bar had been.

It was dark, and one of the street lamps was busted, but he found Bucky standing with Monica, and… Leila?

“Hey!” Sam landed, stumbling into Bucky, who held him tightly around the arms keeping him still before letting go. He eyed Leila first. “What are you doing back out here?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning into a hip. “Someone has to post the damn scoop, Samuel.”

He smirked. “And check up on their girlfriend?”

Monica crossed her arms, and Leila huffed, making him feel a little bad for bringing it up. Only a little.

Trouble in paradise?

Bucky cleared his throat. “How’s Terry?”

“He’s with Rhodey, at some… mutant hospital that I didn’t even know about. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am now.” Bucky smiled. 

Sam couldn’t help but smile back at him, then paused. “Where’s Mess and Grey?”

“Gone, I imagine,” a voice said, and Sam turned around, eyeing a tall man with a long brown trench coat exiting from the shadows. “After realizing they were fighting a losing game.”

There was a flash of pink light - almost firelike - and Sam traced the source to a playing card in his hand, flipping between his fingers.

“Trashing my bar was quite rude,” the man added, smiling, and Sam definitely knew a cajun accent when he heard one. The man was a brunette with long hair sticking straight up and falling behind his head. “Now it’ll be more famous, though, so give and take.”

“Who are you?” Sam asked firmly, aware that no one else seemed on guard, though Bucky held his usual stare reserved for everyone whose last name wasn’t Wilson. 

“Remy LeBeau, the one and only,” the man announced, smiling a little wider, reaching a hand out.

Sam accepted the handshake, firm, seeing red in his irises as he came closer.

“Are you a vampire?” Sam blurted out.

Remy blinked in surprise, and Leila cracked first, and then they all laughed, even Bucky snorting as Sam’s face heated. 

“Alright! Some of us ain’t from this side of town,” Sam snapped, crossing his arms as Bucky rubbed his back in sympathy. Or this side of the world.

“Just a mutant… and a guy who owns a bar,” Remy explained, keeping his grin, and Sam highly doubted that, observing the destroyed areas over the street, worse than he’d left it. He followed Sam’s glare. “Ah, yes, the damage… that’ll be expensive.”

Sam hesitated. “Look, I am sorry about how the night went down. I hope no one was hurt, and I can call some city officials, try to work out repairs on the streets.”

Remy hummed, smile fading as he thought.

Sam wondered if he had offended him, but then a warm chuckle escaped, Remy saying, “I suppose the rumors are true.”

“Rumors?” Bucky asked first, taking a step closer, and Remy didn’t move back, keeping his Cheshire cat expression. 

“That this new Captain is different. Putting his life on the line for one of us lowly mutants, among other things.” His eyes scrolled between Bucky and Sam, not saying more.

Leila broke the tension. “Of course, Sam did! I don’t keep friends with no damn scrubs, Remy. He would do it again! Bring out some more jerks!” She pumped a fist.

Monica scoffed.

“Maybe after a nap, first, and some codeine,” Sam interrupted, wincing at the thought of another battle while he hadn’t even assessed what bruises were forming.

Remy suddenly laughed, finally stepping back. “I’ll be watching you, Mister Sam,” he said with a wink, walking away with his back turned. “Consider yourself a friend of New Orleans… for now.”

“I won’t take that lightly,” Sam assured him, and then he was gone. 

~*~

Bucky sat in the back of the cab with Sam, holding his hand and rubbing circles into his skin. There was a shared sense of adrenaline between them, despite the chipper energy of the driver playing Whitney Houston’s I Want To Dance With Somebody.

They pulled up in front of the Ace Hotel, and Sam got out, first, thanking the driver and waiting for Bucky to pay, and then they walked together. He let Bucky guide him through a side entrance that he didn’t realize existed, and they took the elevator up to their room, the dark furniture very appealing for a nap once the lamp was on. Sam immediately unstrapped his wings, letting his sore shoulders free.

“Nah-ah-“ Bucky pulled him by the waist before he could dive onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Sam tightly.

Sam groaned, squirming, “Come onnn, baby, we could shower in the morning. I feel like I got hit by a truuuuck.”

Bucky yanked him back against his chest and whispered in his ear, “Too bad.”

Sam continued his grumbles as they removed their gear together, shoving everything into a pile on the floor before allowing his body to be dragged to the kitchen for a drink and then into the bathroom where Bucky started a hot stream. “Our shower stuff-“

“I’ll get it.”

That left him alone, staring at himself in the mirror, making a face. Luckily, he didn’t have any bad cuts and scrapes, just a few ugly bruises, but what was new. 

He didn’t wait, stepping inside the steamy chamber with a sigh, letting the water run down his back.

Bucky joined him with shower poufs and an armful of supplies. “You feel okay, doll?”

“Mhm, sleepy, drunk, horny,” Sam murmured, leaning his head against the wall as Bucky slid the glass door closed.

Bucky kissed the back of his shoulder. “I can help with one of those, but I can’t make you close your eyes,” he kissed the other shoulder and Sam chuckled, “And I can’t fast-forward time.”

Sam turned around, switching spaces, finally sharing the faucet as Bucky added chamomile body wash and scrubbed Sam’s chest, making him sigh. “Oh, that smells so good… so that’s what you were packing in the secret compartment.”

Bucky pouted, moving down to his abs. “You’re not supposed to know if it’s a secret.” 

“We literally share a suitcase.” Sam moaned as Bucky stepped closer to scrub his back, closing his eyes against Bucky’s shoulder, hands settling around his waist. “Don’t share a pack with me if you don’t want me to know.”

Sam was just picking, being cranky because he wanted to knock out instead of standing under hot water, but Bucky scrubbing him also felt really good. “I’m never drinking again,” he added.

Bucky finally chuckled. “For once, I’m glad for the serum. I’ve never fought drunk before. Apparently, Asgardians have stopped in Madness before, and those shots were like a tickle for Thor’s pals.”

Sam giggled with him, making Bucky turn around so that he could scrub his back in return, picking a eucalyptus wash. “Why did you bring so many stress relief scents?”

“Couldn’t pick one, figured we’d try them all. We do take a lot of showers.”

“And we do get stressed.” Sam smirked, not missing the hard-on Bucky had as he turned back around, watching Sam with lusty eyes. “We should relieve some of it,” whispered Sam, lowering a hand and gripping firmly, earning a sigh. “You meant these kinds of showers, right?” he tugged for emphasis and Bucky groaned.

“Yeah, doll, just like that,” Bucky sighed as Sam worked him, pulling him in for a wet kiss under the faucet, stroking filthy sounds from those pink lips.

~*~

Sam felt surprisingly energized after his shower. He sat on the edge of the bed yawning as he dried his hair and the crevices where water liked to pool, like behind his ears. 

Bucky was fumbling in the suitcase in his not-so-secret compartment. 

“Uh oh,” Sam said softly, watching, applying a hair cream.

“Relax, I didn’t bring the prostate massager,” Bucky muttered, seeming to find what he was looking for with a content smile.

“Yeah, cause it’s not your damn birthday,” retorted Sam, raising his brows as Bucky lifted up a bottle of dark liquid, a candle, and numbing cream. “Apparently, it’s mine.”

“Lay down,” Bucky demanded, real smug with his messy towel-dried hair and in nothing but his briefs.

Sam laughed, getting up to hang his towel over a chair. “You look ridiculous, baby, dry off like a normal person.”

Bucky put the items on the nightstand and then pushed Sam onto the bed, making him giggle into the sheets, too tired to fight back, but very amused. “And you look amazing,” said Bucky, placing a smack on his butt.

Sam smiled into the pillow, closing his eyes. “That better not be lube. Ride is cloooosed.”

“Shhh,” Bucky whispered in his ear, reaching over his head to dim the lights, and then getting up from the bed, leaving Sam naked and very in danger of knocking out.

A smell entered Sam’s nose like vanilla and lavender, and he murmured in a sleepy voice, “Baby, what are you doing?” 

He felt Bucky return and kiss his face. “Says the guy who didn’t even put on skincare.”

Sam chuckled, feeling himself rolled over, a towel under him, and he cracked open his eyes, finding Bucky rubbing his hands together and then massaging his face and neck. The metal felt smooth and relaxing, making him moan as he parted his jaw, feeling the tightness worked out. 

“Feels good-” Sam managed with his mouth open, then watching as Bucky applied the numbing cream onto his hands. Sam winced, feeling him press into bruises starting to darken.

“Sorry, doll,” Bucky murmured, rolling him over and then applying the cream to his back and shoulders, and he sighed.

“You’re gonna like this,” Bucky added, picking up the dark bottle and pouring some onto his back. It had an herbal smell to it.

Sam groaned into the pillow as Bucky rubbed what felt like oil in, applying a pressure that made his whole body heat up. Each knot worked out was like heaven, and as Bucky flipped him over again, hands massaging more oil into his neck and working down his torso, he was panting slightly, lower half rising. “Baby-”

“Be patient, love,” Bucky said with a smirk, clearly enjoying how he made Sam sigh, eyes closed, hard but too exhausted to do anything about it. He bore through Bucky using those magical hands on his thighs and calves, working out tension all the way to his feet before he lifted his legs, making Sam crack his lids open again, leaking a little precum.

Bucky kissed down his thighs and Sam moaned, head falling back as Bucky’s kisses turned to soft nips on the meat of his ass, and then there was a hot tongue trailing him.

“Oh, baby-” Sam whined, “Don’t stop,” cock throbbing, entire body scorching and smelling so good. His legs rested uselessly over Bucky’s shoulders, but he moaned in solidarity. Bucky entered him and licked, using a single finger to prod in deeper, reaching for that bundle of nerves. “Buck, please, oh.”

Sam lamented as Bucky worked his prostate, moaning into his tongue as he did, forcing Sam to shudder against the bed and whine as his orgasm washed over him, the exhaustion dragged from his body with whimpers. Bucky finally reached a hand up and stroked him through the high, making him gasp, and then everything was spinning.

Sam felt the warmth of a rag wiping his stomach, and the bedsheets adjusted under him, Bucky tucking him in, and he was out, leaving every worry in yesterday.

~*~

Snores brought Sam from the darkness of sleep, and he realized how hot he was with Bucky on top of him. They were naked, and the skin contact grounded him, but Bucky was also really damn hot, literally and figuratively.

Sam was dying.

“Baby?” Sam asked, and the snores paused, then continued, Bucky’s face between his neck and cheek, lower half clearly catching the memo that he was pressed against the falcon. Furthermore, a headache made itself known. The thick curtains were pulled closed, but somehow it still felt too light. Sam let out a pained groan, closing his eyes.

Bucky cracked an eye open. “You 'kay?”

“Guess my body doesn’t like being hungover,” Sam murmured, sighing. His muscles, however, felt great, and the soreness was like that of a good workout than that of someone who’d been kicked through chairs and tables. He reached over to the nightstand to take an aspirin and familiar pills left for him, and then Bucky reassumed smothering him.

“Well, what does your body like?” 

Sam couldn’t retort as Bucky moved his hips, and the friction was almost too good. Jesus, this is why he hated sleeping naked, it almost always led to something - not that he was complaining as Bucky moved again, forcing a groan from his lips.

“That, fuck, baby-” Sam moaned, giving in with the willpower of a man on his last leg, and only a sweet orgasm could send him to heaven. 

Bucky snatched his chin and pulled him into a long kiss, making Sam let out sweet sounds into his mouth, Bucky’s leg hitching up to his hip as he grinded against Sam. 

“Baby, I want you to ride,” Sam whispered, but the thrusts didn’t stop as he pleaded, “Baby,” and Bucky shuddered, moaning loud in his ear and then sighing. 

“Sam, we can’t,” Bucky finally said, “Sleeping naked, I mean. It’s like torture.”

Sam laughed, putting two hands on his cheeks to look at him clearly. “What?” There were bags under Bucky’s eyes. “Oh my God, did you even sleep?”

“Sam,” Bucky hissed, “You were moaning in your sleep, you fox, it was hell.”

Sam could only laugh again, flipping Bucky over with a smirk, having the upper hand now that he was the only one well-rested. “I’ll make it up to you. No need to ride, I'll do the work.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, please do.”

Sam bit his lip, dick taking interest in those words, and he reached onto the nightstand, pleased to find lubricant at the ready as Bucky sighed like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. Surprise met Sam as he felt the hard shape of a plug in his ass, and Sam laughed even harder. “You’re kidding!?”

“I can’t wait, you’re like the world’s slowest fingerer,” Bucky complained, nudging Sam to hurry up and get the show on the road.

“Thanks, I’ll call the Guinness World Record and let em’ know.” Sam smirked, wetting his fingers and then trailing over the plug and sliding it out with a pop, a relieved look on Bucky’s face. 

Bucky whispered, “Wait,” and he pushed Sam, and then rolled over on the bed, face in the pillow, angling his hips up, ass in the air, muscular back exposed, and the scandalousness of it all was really doing it for Sam.

Sam wet his lips. “Wow, okay, I can do that.”

“Doll, come on,” Bucky whined, voice still sleepy and deep, and Sam gave himself a few strokes just to keep it together, trying not to come from the sheer thought of how good it was going to feel when he did.

He swallowed and positioned Bucky where he wanted him, a satisfied grunt meeting him, and then he pushed in slowly, sighing from how warm and tight Bucky felt. “Oh, baby, I love you being ready for me,” Sam groaned, thrusting to the hilt as he stretched readily, and Bucky whimpered, moving back against him.

Sam took a deep breath, watching those sexy back muscles flex as he thrust in again, body fully awake and understanding how ideal this situation was first thing in the morning - er, early afternoon as he glanced at the clock.

“Ugh, right there,” Bucky groaned, hips grinding back against him, and Sam refused to let him take over, clutching his hips lightly and pounding into him, earning full-on shouts. Room service or whoever else might be in the hallway be damned.

“Go ahead, baby, take it, it’s yours,” Sam whispered as he felt Bucky come close, back arching and grabbing the sheets, and Sam reached a hand around to stroke him, urging him on.

Bucky cried into the pillow as he clenched around Sam, shooting onto the sheets, shaking as his hips still moved. Sam came back from the edge, jaw parted as he continued to jerk him raw and unraveled, sobs in his ear as Bucky demanded more.

Sam couldn’t take it, eyes squinting closed as his body threatened him. “Fuck, Bucky, baby-” and he held out longer than he thought he would, refusing to look as Bucky panted and stroked himself, knowing that image would pull him to the other side immediately.

“Sam, oh,” Bucky’s voice broke, and Sam thrust sporadically, gasping as Bucky clenched again, orgasm rippling through him.

Sam saw stars, jaw falling open as he came. He felt himself shaking when he finally pulled out, Bucky’s sighing before he let his hips collapse, leaking onto the bed. Sam fell next to him, catching his breath.

“I swear to God if you ask for round two,” Sam whispered.

He was met by snores.

~*~

The hospital was still standing when Sam arrived with Bucky, holding a coffee, the drug he needed to kick his headache and get out of bed after sex so satisfying that he must’ve been damn crazy to be thinking about the wellbeing of the world. But Terrance was their friend, and a priority.

Bucky finally met him at the door, pocketing the car keys. “It’s definitely a hospital, shit parking.” 

Sam nodded, swallowing. There was something about hospitals that surfaced bits of anxiety that he’d built up over the years. From seeing his TT pass away in one, to the times he’d stayed overnight after mission injuries or mental health struggles, and rushing to find innocent AJ-

“Hey,” Bucky said firmly, a hand massaging his neck and shoulders, and Sam exhaled, releasing his tension and shaking his head.

“Sorry, I just-” He smiled. “Let’s go.”

They entered and Sam didn’t see Rhodey, but he figured he was around somewhere, sticking close to Terrance’s case. God, I hope Terry’s alright.

The woman at the desk had gills on her neck and double eyelids. 

“Hi, um, we’re here to see Terrance Sorenson.”

She nodded, looking through the computer, doing that squint that hospital staff did when something would be a problem.

Sam tried, “He came in last night, in fact, if-”

“Tell Rhodes, he can let us in, or we’re swinging,” Bucky interrupted coolly.

She looked surprised, and Sam swallowed, and then she lit up like a lightbulb went off. “Yes, Sergeant Barnes, you both have clearance!”

She glanced at his arm, and then nodded, looking sure as she handed them visitor passes.

Sam accepted them oddly, hanging the lanyards around their necks, and then they were given a room number on a sticky note.

“That… felt kind of off,” Sam muttered as they entered the elevator alone.

“Sometimes being nice doesn’t work,” Bucky said, simply.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, baby, that’s looking like your trademark.”

She had a recognizing look in her eyes, like someone said, So there’s going to be an asshole with a metal arm, let him in, and Sam wouldn’t put that level of snark past a fellow Avenger.

“Huh,” Sam added, “There’s no floor N1.” Only 1 through 8.

Bucky narrowed. “Maybe we’re in the wrong-”

Suddenly, the elevator moved, making Sam grab onto the walls, and it slid down to a lower level. He and Bucky eyeing each other.

“Don’t fucking look at me,” Bucky said, exasperated.

The doors opened, and a few heads turned, and then continued about their business. N1 otherwise looked like a normal hospital floor, but Sam’s trained eye could pick out the reinforced walls and gas masks on the walls, little preparations for any sudden emergency.

“Room 113,” Bucky muttered, exiting the elevator, holding his hand out to Sam. 

Sam took it, and they walked down the halls, passing closed doors, some of them open or cracked with empty beds. It felt quieter than upstairs, save for elevator music and the occasional sound of laughter. They came to a door numbered 113, and Sam pushed it open, wincing as a hallway met him. “Seriously?”

Bucky sighed. “If it’s a trap, we’re going down fighting.”

Sam didn’t mean to snort as they trailed in. “Fuck, that isn’t funny at all.” 

The hall almost felt like they were entering some kind of apartment, and Sam quickly understood why as they turned the corner, coming into an open space with furniture that made it look more like a studio than a hospital room. Half of the room was filled with a small open kitchen, a seated couch area and desk, and widescreen television.

“Well, shit-” Bucky swore. “Didn’t know Terry was a freaking Kennedy.”

“Buck, behave.”

There was equipment to one side and a bed where Terrance lay, eyeing them curiously. “You mind not swearing around my princess?”

Sam let Bucky’s hand go and trailed closer, finding another bed in the corner of the room where a young brown-skinned girl sat, hair in little ringlets pulled back with a bow, focused on her large book, coloring intently. 

“Aw, shucks.” Sam smiled.

Terrance smiled back, managing to look proud despite his state of lying in the bed, an IV in one arm.

“That’s my Janet, she’s five.” He turned his head. “You finished, sweetie?”

Janet nodded, holding up a picture that looked like Mr. Potato head. “It’s you, daddy!”

“She’s a little artist,” Bucky noted, holding in his laugh, but his goo-goo eyes gave away how cute he found the situation.

“Thank you, Janet,” Terrance said with a smile, and she looked so proud that Sam couldn’t help the disgusting coos coming out of his mouth.

“You didn’t say she was freaking adorable!” Sam covered his mouth. “Do you have more? Come on, show us the rest.”

“Show us the rest, Terry,” Bucky cheered him on.

Terrance laughed, wincing, as Janet started on another, more epic drawing. “I swear, y’all are the best faces I’ve seen today. The others are all nurses and that brother with a stick up his - derrière.”

Bucky choked back a laugh.

Sam sighed. “Rhodey? Believe it or not, he’s probably the reason you’re in the daggone presidential wing. Welcome to being special.”

Terrance exhaled, reaching to turn on a children’s program on the TV with the remote, then leaning back into the bed, speaking quieter, “It’s feeling like a pretty cell.”

Sam moved closer to him. “Are they mistreating you?”

He shook his head. “No… they’re honoring every stupid request I can come up with. Said Janet wanted McDelroy’s for breakfast, and someone brought it, warm and everything. I’m just… I’m glad they’re letting me see her, but I wonder when the hammer’s gonna drop.”

Bucky frowned, eyes intense. “We won’t let that happen.”

Sam didn’t expect the emotion, but he agreed. “Does she have any other family, I mean… her mom, or-”

Terrance lowered his eyes. “No, it’s just me. Her grandmother, my mother, is out of the country, and I could never ask her to come and carry this for me.”

Sam hesitated, leaning in closer. “Terry, if you don’t give us more information than that, you might not have a choice.”

There was quiet, and Terrance squinted, before releasing tension. “Sam. I’ll tell you my story if it helps, but… can you promise not to judge me?”

Sam took his shaking hand and held it firm. “I’m listening.”

***

Chapter 16: Family Ties

Summary:

Terrance opens up to Sam who promises to help him.

Notes:

😅 Hello and welcome back! It has been a hectic month 😭 but I am fighting for my free time

Sam had been ready to hear Terrance recount his life story, or something, anything that could allow them to help. He stilled himself by the bed, eyes focused but not too intense, demeanor eager yet inviting enough to show Terrance that he was a safe place.

Funny be it that years ago that safe place between them might have been one filled with secrets kept in the closet. Terrance was younger than Sam, certainly by a decade at least, but Sam could so easily imagine him sitting in that large church room in plainclothes trying to fit in had he been born earlier, pretending he wasn’t different from everyone the way Sam used to. 

Younger folk had more pride in being who they were, and in a way, Sam wished he had that much, but in Terrance there existed an additional pride that had nothing to do with being gay. Southern pride. Our kind of folk pride. The kind that said asking for help outright was weak and that I can handle this huge thing on my own.

Terrance couldn’t like Sam couldn’t. Steve couldn’t. The kicker is that no man ever would be able to hold the world alone, but no man would ever stop trying. They were all Atlas, too distracted by the great mass of things to look on their left and see if anyone else had a warm hand extended and a friendly smile. 

Bucky had become Sam’s warm hand and friendly smile, his loving oasis soothing him through everything until nothing truly hurt like it used to. Sam gave Terrance gentle eyes like Isaiah once had for him - after he’d accepted the shield.

“Terry,” Sam said in that tone that made people listen, that promised you’re safe.

At first, Terrance cracked, and he was going to speak.

Boom.

Sam didn’t have a queue for Leila bustling through the door to 113 and singing out, “Oh, Terryyy~! My deaaar~!”

Sam flinched, eyeing left and asking, “Heads up, Buck?”

Bucky gaped, realizing Sam was referring to the only one with super hearing - unless Terrance had some other shit up his sleeve. Bucky stuttered, “I- I- was focused on Terry!” His cheeks reddened, crossing his arms. 

“Divine timing, huh?” Terrance offered, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh, meeting the visage of his good friend, wearing skinny jeans (for which she deserved all the kudos for being able to pull off in this decade) and a leopard print turtleneck. Up top was a pair of small dangle earrings and her Fulani braids.

Sam made a disgusted face. “Why the hell do you look so damn refreshed?” He crossed his arms, mirroring Bucky. “You might not have been fighting, but last I checked, alcohol doesn’t discriminate.”

Leila raised both brows high, putting on a surprised face. “Samuel!? Is that you!?”

Bucky cracked a smirk as Sam grew ready to retort.

“Language, man,” Terrance reminded him in a whisper, making Sam’s face burn as he apologized.

Sam swallowed his embarrassment now that Leila and Bucky were giggling maniacally at him. Never mind, she was officially excused from the Best Friend Hall of Fame.

Janet stared at them with wide eyes and open ears, a beaming smile on her face as Leila squared on her.

“Little pumpkin!” Leila squealed, heels clacking on the tiles as she ran over with open arms. Janet met her with twice the excitement, and Sam couldn’t help but smile as they watched Leila swing around the young girl.

“You were saying?” Bucky asked Terrance, looking between Leila and them.

“Uh…” Terrance started, eyes still on Janet, “Leila, you mind taking Jan for a walk?” He added quieter with a squint, “Since Captain America has a potty mouth…”

Bucky snorted again, and Sam rolled his eyes at him, then put on his best sad face. “Which I will never do again. So sorry, little lady, if you want to forgive me.”

Janet giggled as Leila tickled her, grinning wildly. “Of course, she does! We super powerful ladies are very forgiving. However,” she winked, “Recompense shall be needed first.”

“What's re-kam-pens?” asked Janet as she held Leila’s hand; they started toward the door.

“I’ll tell you over a nice hot cake at Ditsy Dot’s, hun,” Leila explained and Janet cheered. 

Terrance started to smile and then hesitated. “That sounds good and all, but I meant a walk to - you know - the vending machine or-“ He looked hopeful. “The cafeteria? I’ll see if-“

“Daddy, please can I go to Ditsy Dot’s with Auntie Leila!” Janet pouted, and there was no question mark at the end of it, reminding Sam of the times his nephews had asked him for god-given anything in their cutest days.

Terrance looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, sweetie, outside is-“

“What if-“ Bucky started, swallowing once all eyes were on him, finishing a little quieter, “If I follow? I won’t let anything happen.”

Terrance looked surprised, as well as Sam, and Janet seemed elated as she and Leila started for the hallway.

“Baby, you sure?” Sam checked, wanting to make sure he was comfortable. Granted, this wasn’t a year ago when Bucky tiptoed around the family, but-

“Yeah,” Bucky said warmly, eyes certain, and Sam smiled back at him.

“Alright, keep me on ringer-“

Bucky scoffed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Like I don’t always- I’m gonna catch up to them, pretty sure I hear Leila fighting with the elevator.”

Sam affirmed him again and then watched the back of his jacket before he was gone. That left Sam with Terrance who had a smug look. Once again, Sam flushed. “What?”

“Nothing… baby.”

“Ugh, shut up!” Sam crossed his arms, rolling his eyes, “I just- You know-“

“Oh, I know. In Delacroix, we didn’t finish talking about your future kids-“

“Whoa-whoa!” Sam gaped and didn’t mean to look absolutely horrified at the thought of offspring after he’d literally just fought for his life. “Look, Terry-“

Terrance laughed loudly. “If you could see your face right now-“ he choked on his last laugh and winced.

“Man, come on,” Sam said steadily, regaining his seriousness as he moved closer to the bed and touched a cool metal railing, “Don’t bust a stitch or something.”

Terrance sighed, returning to his prior mood as well… as if just realizing he was still exhausted. Sam took him in full with no distractions. He had dark circles under his eyes and dried lips. His skin looked more gaunt compared to dewy and full of life like at church.

“You didn’t sleep well, did you?” asked Sam, sighing and leaning against the wall.

Terrance shook his head, motioning for a metal folding chair, and Sam went around the bed and pulled it closer, taking a seat to see him at eye level. “Couldn’t outside of… that anesthetic stuff they give you. Somehow, Janet slept like a baby,” he cracked a sad smile, “Crazy how kids bounce back so easily. She was scared but all I did was say everything would be fine, and she believed it. Me… I feel like everything is crumbling.”

Sam nodded his head, relaxing into the chair with a sigh. “My nephew had a hospital stint a little while back.” He explained as Terrance’s eyes widened, “Allergic reaction but caught on time…” and Terrance looked relieved. “I kept it together. My sister was spooked, and his brother, maybe even Bucky. I didn’t really have time to think about myself, it was just him. I get it. She’s everything to you.”

Terrance said firmly, “You’re like a dad to those kids, Sam, even I could see that.”

Sam chuckled. There probably was nothing he wouldn’t do for Cass and AJ. Life hadn’t been fair to them. They didn’t get enough time with their biological father because illness didn’t discriminate, but seeing the way the boys lit up when they got an Uncle Sam and an Uncle Bucky meant the world to Sam. If they did see him as a role model for how to be a man then Sam could only feel grateful.

“Wow,” Terrance interrupted, tsk-ing. “You really came here to brag, huh.”

Sam kicked himself for going into space. “Nah, I had a whole get-better and you’re-a-great-dad speech, ready.”

Terrance laughed, winced again, and they both silently agreed to keep the humor at bay. “Well, it is pretty cool having Cap as a friend, but I like Sam Wilson better.”

“Now you sound like Bucky.”

“Jesus! The bragging!” Terrance spat.

Sam smirked alone now and Terrance smiled and rolled his eyes. Okay, that time, he did it on purpose.

A soft silence filled the room. There was white noise from the hum of the machines and what sounded like a fish tank somewhere. Fancy places always had one.

Terrance stared at nothing, taking gentle breaths before looking at Sam. “I wasn’t born like this,” he finally said.

Sam sat forward, the chair creaking under him. “Like what? Are you a mutant?”

Terrance exhaled through his nose, scratching at bits of the sheets. “I am… but I used to be normal. I’ve been like this since I was a teenager,” he said quietly, seeing something Sam couldn’t as he raised a hand and fire filled his palm. The flames reflected in his pupils. “My parents were researchers… they worked in thermodynamics, everything in the new frontier of temperature. You’ve got folks like Stark who made a lot from it, and then the smaller people who work in the labs and weren’t as appreciated.”

“I get that,” Sam replied quietly.

With another breath, Terrance extinguished the tiny flame and it grew into a crystal of ice as he smiled. “My ma, though, she was - is - warm and lovable. I realized later that she was lucky to be a black woman at the time and have her ideas go far. Honestly, it’s hard to remember what she worked on. I wasn’t really the science type but folks were always congratulating her, but for my old man… it was the opposite.”

“He wasn’t proud of her?” Sam asked, remembering how his own father had caught an extra big catch when his mother became head of the PTA. 

Terrance shook his head. “He always had these big theories and said other folk didn’t understand, and I used to believe him. I thought it was the white man holding us back, not giving him his chance. Shit, maybe it was. I just know ma supported him through everything but in return he just…” He melted the ice, and Sam leaned closer until he could touch the bed. There was a pain in Terrance’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Sam couldn’t say.

“You know, I heard Howard Stark was an alcoholic.”

Sam swallowed. “I didn’t know him, but Tony…”

Terrance chuckled. “I don’t have nothing against them. I just kind of laughed when I found out cause it’s funny how one man can be a drunk and to the public he’s a hero, and another is just a monster.”

“Was there anyone who could intervene-” 

“No one.” Terrance looked at him square, eyes more firm. “It’s not like mental health was a real thing back then. Whiskey was freaking medicine at one point, you know? He’s long gone anyway.”

“Can I ask how he…” Sam searched his eyes.

“Shit, right.” Terrance snapped his fingers. “That’s the crazy part, Sam. The man couldn’t just go out quietly, he had to go out with a bang!” He made an exploding gesture. “He was going on some rant about this… device? Gizmo? I don’t know, it’s vague now.”

Sam waited for him to sigh.

“I guess working and drinking ain’t good bedfellows. All I remember is something of his exploding… and then he was gone. I thought I was, too. Everything was freaking hot as hell, and then cold. I remember thinking about the look on ma’s face being proud of me because I was about to graduate and have a chance at a real life. I begged her for us to move somewhere else and she agreed. We were gonna leave him and put all the abuse behind us. I thought it was unfair that I would die right before we could be free.” He shook his head. “Instead, I woke up like this.”

Sam eyed his palms hot and cold palms. “You became mutated…”

Terrance nodded. “Bye-bye dreams of Kansas, Chicago, maybe Vegas.” He reached for his water on the bedside table and Sam handed it to him, digesting the information as he sipped. “Ma is better than I ever could be. The money we’d saved to get a better life was all used on experiments to save my life, to make sure I didn’t go boom.”

Sam’s brows dove. “Is that painful? Using your abilities?” 

Terrance raised both brows, shaking his head. “Not really; it’s more like a sensation. It’s been years, Sam, I’m more in control now than before.”

That brought Sam relief, and he finally exhaled, realizing how much tension he was holding. There was silence between them as Sam laid out all of the information in his mind. One thing still probed at him. “Terry, thank you for sharing that with me, really.” Sam took his arm and squeezed. “I can’t help but ask-”

“What that has to do with those freaks after me?” Terrance sighed.

Sam winced but nodded. “Did something else happen? There are enhanced who live quietly and are unregistered, but-”

Terrance nodded, staring at the sheet. “Most of ma’s experiments didn’t work, and my mind was falling apart. I blamed myself, or pa, I wasn’t in a good place. I kept thinking if only I hadn’t become some kind of monster, we could afford to leave. We didn’t just use up our savings, Sam, the money ran dry. We could have lost everything, our home, and I did things I wasn’t proud of to keep us afloat. Agents like that aren’t my first rodeo… it's just been years.”

“So, you aren’t registered.”

“I am.”

Sam cocked his head. “You are?”

“I had to be in order to receive rehabilitation. Ma helped me enroll in a program in New York.” 

Okay… that made sense and confused Sam further, and it showed as he twisted his face and crossed his arms. 

“Terry, those soldiers only go after unregistered enhanced, unless I’m misunderstanding something. If you’re in control, now, why would you still have a target on your back?”

Actually, that made Sam angrier. Why should any mutant, enhanced, or otherwise different person be attacked for simply existing?

Terrance went silent, and Sam didn’t like what that did to his own heart, face breaking. “Oh, God, Terry please don’t tell me you went back to crime?”

A laugh met him. “Christ, no!” and then a frustrated noise. “I wouldn’t do that, Sam. I’m a reformed man with a girl to look after-”

“Terrance goddamn Sorenson,” Sam said firmly, squinting with don't lie to me eyes.

Terrance hesitated.

“If something’s happened, you gotta tell me!” Sam hissed, getting out of his chair. “Even if it was self-defense. Say you were attacked and your abilities went off. Or-” He probed his brain. “You started a freaking kitchen fire, I don't-”

Sam didn’t miss the way Terrance stiffened at fire. 

“Did you… start a fire?” he asked slowly, “Something that was an accident?” His brows dove, holding the rail again. “Terry, please.” Sam was this close to getting to the bottom of it.

Terrance shut his eyes tight, whispering through gritted teeth. “Not a fire… fires. They’re random, sporadic, and I always put them out, Sam-”

“So you’re not in control, after all?” Sam raised a brow.

“I am!” Terrance snapped. “I’d never let my power get out of hand and hurt innocents-”

Bzzz.

They both paused, and Sam cleared his throat, taking a step back. He pulled his phone from his pocket, seeing a picture of Bucky pop up, calming him. “It’s Bucky.”

“I bet.” Terrance smirked, and Sam pushed a pillow at him before answering.

“Hey, Samuel, heard you used to breakdance,” Bucky said into the phone, making Sam roll his eyes.

“Alright, you’ve been hanging with Leila too long. Is everything good, baby?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d call to check in. Am I on speaker?”

Sam shifted his eyes to Terrance and gave him an affirming smile, mouthing, they’re fine. And then he asked Bucky, “Do you want to be?”

There was silence at first, and then he said, “Maybe.”

Sam put him on speaker. “Go ahead.”

“Bucky, how’s my angel?” Terrance asked him.

“I’m watching her put away a whole stack of Dot’s. I thought I’d give them some space.”

Terrance raised a brow. “Still, keep close-”

“He’s got super speed and hearing,” Sam said quietly, and Terrance made a face of realization, going, oh, right. Sam smiled. “Trust me, with Buck, they’re safe.”

Terrance nodded, shoulders lowering. 

“I’m just going to ask,” Bucky started, breaking the ice, “Is your daughter a mutant, too?”

Sam felt surprised but didn’t blink, eyes instinctively locked onto Terrance for every shift in his expression and crinkle of his brow. Like most citizens, untrained, his face gave away everything.

“Why do you ask?” Terrance asked back with a chuckle. “You think my girl’s that special?”

Bucky seemed to pick up on the awkward mood. “I mean, anyone who can live with someone that bad at pool probably is… but, it’s just a hunch, you know? Little things that could have been nothing. I’ve been around for a while. Anyway, we’ll be back soon after I think ice cream? They’re getting up, I’m gonna go.”

Sam affirmed him, and then they said a quick goodbye. Sam understood more of what was going on now, and Bucky had given him the clue needed to put the pieces together. He went right in once his phone was in his pocket.

“You’re right, Terry. You are in control.” Terrance looked nervous, and he continued, “But she isn’t.”

“Sam, you don’t know-”

“That your daughter might have inherited your powers?” Sam offered, and he felt guilty for the scared expression on his friend’s face, but he had to know for sure to be able to help.

“Keep your voice down,” Terrance hissed, “She hasn’t.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Sam said carefully, crossing his arms. “You said fires, correct? So she only has one half-”

“She has both halves-” Terrance paused. Sam raised both brows. “Fuck.”

“Terrance, we were doing well on this honesty thing,” Sam whispered, grasping a hand onto his shoulder. “Tell me the whole truth. I won’t let anything happen-”

“You can’t guarantee that,” Terrance hissed, eyes glossing. “I was an adult when I went away, Sam. Janet’s just a girl, and I can handle it.”

Sam’s brows knit. “By taking the blame if something explodes? Who's going to raise her if you're serving time, or worse, for something that was an accident? Especially if no one got hurt.”

No answer met him.

“Terrance, rather than let higher powers think you’re some reformed man turned pyromaniac, take the help, and give Janet a better life than you had. Shit, your life with her can still be great. You dress damn good!”

Terrance looked away, and Sam turned his back, allowing him the space to tear up.

“It’s the same for me, Terry. I’m not just here because you’re a person Cap would protect. You’re my friend, and I’m going to be here for you and Janet… but in order to do that, you have to meet me halfway.”

Sam waited patiently until he heard a quiet, “Okay.”

~*~

Bucky sat across from Sam, a large milkshake in front of him while Sam nursed a warm coffee, thoughts going a mile a minute. They were still in the hospital facility, just on a higher floor. Leila had passed Sam as he left, and he’d turned to watch Janet jump onto her father’s bed and tell him about their outing before leading Bucky out.

They sat in an empty lounge, a Dot’s to-go bag ruffling as Bucky reached in and started on room temperature hash brown bites. He’d taken the news well.  

“We have to help them, Buck,” Sam said quietly.

“We will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sam asked, finally breaking his trance to scoot his chair closer, taking Bucky’s hand under the table.

A chuckle left Bucky. “Cause you always are, doll. I believe in you, and we’re gonna make it happen if it’s something you believe in.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, looking at Bucky like he was the moon while Bucky watched him back like the sun, stars, and all of the galaxy. 

“There are scary implications in the way the soldiers handled the situation,” Sam returned to subject, “Once we get Terry some help, we have to find them front-on.” 

Bucky nodded. “And kick their asses.”

Sam sighed, smiling as he drank his coffee. “Or talk to them.”

“Which is the codeword for fight depending on the language.”

Unable to argue back, Sam laughed. “Fuck, I can’t stand you sometimes. Alright, fine, let’s go kick their asses. You have a lawyer now, anyway.”

Bucky squinted, eating another hashbrown with attitude. “Low blow.”

“Right to the ribs.” Sam smirked.

Creak.

The door opened before Bucky could retort, and in stepped Rhodey, wearing his usual look that said he could debate anything thrown at him and that he needed two naps. 

“Rhodes,” Bucky acknowledged, eyeing him sharply, sitting up straighter.

“Gentlemen,” Rhodey mumbled, bringing over a folder and joining them at the table. “I’ve finished speaking with Mr. Sorenson… and Miss Janet. I’m reviewing their case in new light.”

Bucky scoffed.

“Is that an issue?”

“It is when you had it wrong in the first place.” Bucky muttered lower, “Fucking bureaucrats.” 

Rhodey exhaled through his nostrils, jaw tight. “It was a mistake. I already put in a tip to reassess the employees in charge of Damage Control in this region.”

“Maybe reassess yourself, Rhodes. Terry might be a mutant but he’s not a trained killer, and if you’re sending guys like that after the everyday person, you’re asking for danger.”

“He’s right,” Sam interjected, watching Rhodey’s shoulders lower. “I’ll advocate for Terry’s case, but I won’t be there every time the sky falls. What can we put in place to keep this from happening again?”

“Short of taking those assholes down,” Bucky added.

Rhodey wet his lips, tapping his folder. “Right now, I’ve put a cease on all of their contracts, but that will put a shortage on how many personnel we have able to regulate the East Coast-” He shook his head. “Never mind the administrative mess.”

“And Terry?” 

“As he recovers, he’s safe here. Outside of that, I am looking into aid for Janet learning to control her… mutant ability.”

Sam nodded. “Of course, psychological support, too. This won’t be an easy change for their family. Make sure they have a care manager.”

Rhodey agreed and then started to rise. “If you’ll excuse me, I have more meetings to attend, Sam.” Sam nodded his head again and followed Rhodey’s body to the door.

“Your folder?” he asked.

Rhodey didn’t answer, greeting someone outside and then they were shut in alone. Now Sam’s eyes fell onto the folder, a plastic manila file otherwise non-threatening. 

“I think he meant to leave it,” Bucky muttered, voicing what Sam realized as he rose from the seat and approached it. “What’s it say?”

Sam picked up the file, feeling like the world moved slowly as he slid his fingers across the cover and pulled it back, sighing at a blank page. Warm like it was freshly copied. Then he moved down the front page and read in large letters:

Case File: Gideon Wilson

Bucky stood and looked over his shoulder, saying, “Oh, shit.”

Sam chuckled nervously, staring at the two words like they were something foreign. “Yeah, oh shit…” Clearly, Rhodey did have some integrity left in him and would keep his word, but that did little for the pricks of electricity running up Sam’s fingertips. 

He opened it.

***

Chapter 17: Calm

Summary:

Sam reads Gideon’s file. Bucky decides that they should take a relax day.

Explicit

Notes:

Weeooo! We are approaching the end yall! I have mapped it out in my head, >:D *laughs in drama*

The beginning of the file was pages of logistics, and medical records that Sam’s eyes registered but nothing stuck out to him. It looked like any other military medical file… except it wasn’t, it was Gideon’s, and it held things that his brother might never say to him. Paul had always been proud of his Wilson boys, his young men, and Sam wondered if he’d still be proud of what his boys had become. 

GIDEON WILSON

 

ALIAS: MISTER GIDEON

TITLES: REVEREND WILSON

RANK: MASTER SERGEANT WILSON

PRIOR AFFILIATION: GAMMA CORPS, UNITED STATES MILITARY, HARLEM BAPTIST CHURCH, PUBLIC CHURCH OF DELACROIX…

HEIGHT: 6’3

SEX: MALE

EYES: BROWN

HAIR: BLACK

STATUS: U.S. CITIZEN

DATE OF BIRTH…

HOMETOWN…

 

Even though Sam had worked for the government, he felt overwhelmed by how thick the file felt. The powers that be truly had a lot on him… even their hometown. It made it all real… Gideon’s life without Sam and Sarah.

“Huh,” Bucky’s voice broke through, pausing Sam’s thoughts, “So he really is a preacher.”

Sam blinked and then chuckled, feeling an invisible bubble pop as he lowered his shoulders. “Yeah, that seems to be the only part of him I still know.”

Bucky’s hand rubbed the tensest spot on Sam’s back, and Sam caught a gentle smile before he turned the page to the next section.

DATE…

INCIDENT REPORT ON FUNERAL OF JAMES WILSON

It is suspected that General John Ryker conspired to recruit Gideon Wilson for Project: Gamma Corps. Witness reports suggest a priest acting strangely and report him discussing the Hulk as blame for James Wilson’s death. Agents were unable to confirm…

 

BLIP INCIDENT REPORT INDEX

…Gideon Wilson has operated with the alias Mister Gideon during the mentioned time and dates of…

HARLEM…

PHILADELPHIA…

NEWARK…

TENNESSEE…

ALBUQUERQUE…

…actions deemed unsuitable for government agents…

…casualties of 36 in counting as of…

“Pretty high kill count for a reverend,” Bucky commented, making Sam tighten. 

“Babe, please, a little silence.”

“Right…” Bucky said, eyes drifting from the file to Sam’s hands clenching at the edges, scrolling through city names he had and hadn’t been through, dizzy inside all the letters. So many cities. “Maybe,” Bucky started again, earning a hard squint, “Let’s come back to this section?”

Sam swallowed, nodding. After a few pages, he landed on the bold letters:

 

PROJECT GAMMA CORP

SUBJECT: MISTER GIDEON

EXPERIMENT 1246

MEDICAL RECORDS are as follows…

 

DOCTOR’S NOTES, When comparing the gene makeup of subject Mister Gideon pre-op and post-op, there is little to no activation of X-genes present. 

Classification: enhanced personnel

Mutant status: null, undetermined

Abilities are as follows… 

…superhuman strength exceeding that of several adult men… 

…scale of powers determined by the physical trait of hair…

Procedure notes… 

Gene editing with DNA sample Doc Samson successful…

Result: gamma-irradiation

There were texts missing, making Sam realize the file was incomplete. Blurred lines and near-invisible stains were indicative of damaged pages that were photocopied rather than an original copy. They don’t have all of the answers, either… but that didn’t give Sam peace of mind. He checked the last page.

CASE MANAGEMENT 

COLONEL JAMES RHODES

H.A.M.M.E.R.

Sam exhaled. 

“Let’s take a break,” Bucky said quietly, and Sam agreed, taking another breath before closing the file and placing it down on the table, staring at it like it might disappear. Maybe he hoped it would.

They sat down together, the room silent save for the hums of the hospital as Sam tried to process what he’d skimmed through. Gideon was enhanced… due to Ryker… but the file couldn’t tell him why. He’d taken on contracts like the other gamma soldiers but Sam didn’t know why. Why. Why.

That was the piece Gideon always kept to himself, and Sam couldn’t say being left in the dark was a new feeling with his brother. During his childhood, the few times Gideon showed outright contempt for Sam, he’d just swallowed it down and didn’t let it hurt him. When Gideon was hard on rules and the right way of doing things, Sam kept silent even if he didn’t agree. Sometimes he had the energy to argue, but usually, his mind was elsewhere. He kept the peace because that was easier than constantly disappointing someone. Sam hadn’t felt that kind of strictness with their own father.

“You good?” Bucky asked, moving a hand over to rub Sam’s wrist.

“Do you think he’s like them?” Sam asked quietly instead of answering. The gamma soldiers; those ones who didn’t care if they were taking in someone innocent or separating a parent from their child.

Bucky hummed, his chair creaking as he adjusted his weight. “I don’t know.”

“Guess.” Sam eyed him carefully, knowing the question was unfair.

Bucky made another creaky shift. “Well, fuck, I didn’t have a good first impression, Sam. I want to believe every Wilson I meet is good… because every Wilson I have met is good. Amazing. Sweet. Kind. Funny.”

Sam paused, a smile cracking on his lips. “Handsome?”

“As all fuck.” Bucky sighed, leaning back, sucking in his bottom lip and exhaling through his nose. “But I’ve had family before, so I know they’re kind of a wild card in how they turn out. Jesus, I’m not going to trust anyone who’d call you family and hide all this from you… make you feel crazy.”

Sam nodded slowly, feeling somewhat dissatisfied with the answer. “It’s like I don’t really know him, Bucky.”

Bucky lifted Sam’s hand, pressing his knuckle to his lips while Sam stared at the wall.

“We have to find them. All of them. Find them and stop whatever this madness is.”

Bucky’s nod met him. “We already know where one is.”

Sam furrowed. Delacroix.

“But-“ Bucky started firmly. “We also said we’d run up Rhodes’s tab, eat dinner for a week, do fucking mud masks. I won't go back on my word, doll.”

Sam hesitated. “We could-“ postpone-

“Get mimosas and a massage?”

“I mean we can wait-“

“For the masseuse to come back?” offered Bucky, blinking with full lashes as Sam rolled his eyes, unable to stay mad. “I hear facials these days turn back time a couple years.”

Sam scrunched his face. “What? Baby, that’s not true at all. Maybe if you're… old.”

Bucky narrowed. “I am old.”

Sam huffed, pushing from his seat. “Yeah, yeah, all the centenarians are getting regular sex.” 

“Nothing regular about it, hun.” Bucky smirked. “Imagine how great you’ll feel after being well-rested, getting the knots worked out, and then, of course, I can work you out right after. Work you real good.”

“Here we go.” Sam groaned. “We’ve got work to do.”

“We’re on vacation.”

Okay, now Sam laughed, and he could finally see a soft smile form on Bucky’s face. He leaned over Bucky’s chair and rested his chin on the top of his head, quiet for a moment, taking in the energy recharge.

“Fine, let’s get stupid overpriced mimosas.”

~*~

“Huzzah, he lives!” Sam jeered as he entered the hospital suite, seeing Terrance sitting at the coffee table over a short pile of papers.

Terrance chuckled, still in his hospital outfit, but some of the color had returned to his face and he looked better. Sam didn’t see a man still scarred by his upbringing, but one who had hope in his eyes and maybe a little snark.

“Don’t count me out, yet.” Terrance pursed his lips. “I’ve literally got fire in me.”

Bucky chuckled under his breath. “That’s the spirit. Couple more days and you could take me.”

Terrance winced. “Yeah, I’ll pass. Besides, I heard sparring with you tends to lead to other things, and I am not getting in between that-”

Sam froze as Bucky visibly pinked, but give the man some grace, he held his smile as he shot Sam the devil’s eyes. “Huh…” noted Bucky, “Didn’t know that was public info, Samuel.”

“Uh… it kind of came up?” Sam winced, the room growing hot as they gathered around the couch. Sam felt Bucky brush past and sit on the opposite couch, a pout on his face.

Oh, come onnn.  

“What’ya working on, Terry?” asked Sam, feeling a little like they’d interrupted.

“Apparently there’s a million and one forms to do an outpatient program,” Terrance said with a roll of his eyes. “Of course, we’ll be supervised, but we won’t have to move, and Janet might meet some other kids like her.”

Bucky smiled. “So, you’re gonna do it.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “You want to, right? I mean- You do have choices and you can make demands if anything doesn’t-”

“Sam,” Terrance stressed, starting to chuckle with pearly white teeth. “Come on, this is better than I could have hoped for. I’m just complaining about damn papers. I’m relieved that I won’t have to uproot my girl’s whole life to help her.”

Sam nodded, brows diving as he lowered his shoulders, and he glanced toward the empty bed by the corner. “Where is she, by the way?”

“Upstairs with Leila.” Terrance pointed. “There’s some kind of patient and family event. Ice cream, I think? Y’all should go get some. I’ve been, you know, looking this place up since we’ll be here till I’m on my feet. Apparently, they’ve got like every flavor since some mutants have different accommodations. We’re in damn Hogwarts.”

Bucky laughed first, making Sam raise a brow. “What? I liked Harry Potter.”

Sam’s jaw fell, mildly horrified at that. “You watched it without me?”

“I mean-” Bucky rolled his eyes. “You fell asleep.” He met Terrance’s smirk. “Sam doesn’t remember like half the movies we watch, and then he wants to watch them like three times.”

“Wh-what!” Sam gaped. “Well Bucky doesn’t appreciate any of the Cinderella movies.”

“Oh…” Terrance raised his brows, eyes wide. “Y’all just love to brag. Can I return y’all to the store? Is it too late to-”

“Nope.”

“Stuck with us.”

“Darn…” Terrance sighed, and then he laughed again with them, stopping once he pulled a stitch.

~*~

Sam stood in the elevator with Bucky, aware of the excited look in his eyes like that of a kid. “Babe, we’re just gonna say hello to Janet and Leila and bounce.”

“Yeah, and Terry said there’s every flavor. You know I grew up with like 2. Vanilla and French Vanilla.”

Sam held his laugh. “Even I know that’s bullshit. Steve liked chocolate, so you had at least 3.”

Bucky giggled with him as the doors opened, and they met light creeping in through the windows and a hallway with mild traffic. The hospital truly was for mutants, and Sam couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to a boy walking with a blue-tipped tail, a girl that hiccuped and bubbles floated from her mouth, and a nurse with gills who pushed an elderly woman in a wheelchair. The woman had silver eyes when Sam and Bucky passed.

They asked for directions and then made it to a community room with tables and chairs. There were empty bowls scattered about and a filled garbage bin. Leila sat at a table smiling as Janet talked her ear off about something grand and urgent, making Sam miss AJ’s wild rants for a moment.

“Hello,” Sam started as Bucky asked, “Is there more ice cream?”

A greeting and polite yes met them, and then the hunter’s eyes of Leila, her telling Janet to finish her ice cream as she rose to her feet.

“Wilson.”

“Taylor,” Sam stretched, giving her a warm hug before sitting down next to her. “And hello, Miss Janet.”

Janet smiled and said a loud hi. “Mr. America?” she asked, surprising Sam a little but he smiled and waited for her to continue. “Are your wings real?”

Leila bit both lips and grinned, their eyes flitting across each other. 

Sam puffed his chest. “Of course they are. They’re made of real vibranium and superhero stuff. How about I show you once your daddy gets out of here?”

Her eyes sparkled and she gasped. “For real?”

“Daggone right he will,” Leila chirped, “Leila’s friends don’t break no promises.”

Sam chuckled, listening to Janet and Leila banter before Bucky sat down next to him with four different bowls. Sam leaned over as he started on a mint-colored one. “Which one’s for me?”

Bucky paused, staring down at them. “Uh…”

“Bucky, you are not eating four bowls to yourself,” Sam whispered a little too loudly.

There was silence and they met the powerful squint of a child ready to declare a rule. “Daddy says more than two is too many.”

Leila tried to speak through her laughs, “You heard the girl.”

Bucky sighed, giving in to her real super-power, the ability to be a child in the face of Bucky Barnes, and he agreed and apologized, relinquishing a bowl to Sam.

Sam smiled, tasting what might have been some kind of pepper ice cream, too high on the feeling like he’d won something to go Oh God, what the hell.

They traded halfway, and he was eating chocolate mint with rainbow sprinkles. Once he tried the tofu ice cream, he pushed the bowls toward Bucky, not bothering to taste truffle butter surprise.

Once they walked Janet back to the suite, Sam squeezed into the elevator with Bucky and Leila. “I’m assuming y’all have date plans,” she said, a smirk on her face.

“I’m technically on vacation,” offered Sam.

Leila paused before stepping out. “Then what the hell are you doing saving folks?”

“Folk. Terry mostly, and he’s our friend. I think it’s a good thing that we saved him?”

She pursed her lips. “Terry’s a big boy. We could’ve handled it without a regular schmegular non-mutant hopping in.” She glanced over Bucky. “‘Cept him, he’s allowed.”

Bucky blinked. “Pretty sure mutants hated Hydra, too.”

“Not since all the coverage of you punching Nazis was on the front page,” she said with a wink, “You’re welcome.”

Bucky laughed as Sam glared. 

“How exactly am I a non-mutant and you’re not?” He blinked. “Wait. No way. Leila Taylor X?”

She made a dramatic sigh, gesturing out like she were beginning a monologue as the front doors parted for her. “To be… or not to be mutant, Samuel, that is the question.”

“Come on, what is it?” Sam pried. “Can you spit acid? When you cry, are your tears like glow in the dark?

“Wow! Way to generalize us mutants.”

Bucky hummed. “Some powers aren’t physical. There’s a woman I heard of whose power is being lucky. Calls herself Domino.”

Sam thought on it. “Super… writing?”

She smiled. “Flattered.”

“Super intuition?” Bucky offered.

They kept their guesses until they’d made it to a plaza, and they fell into a silence.

“You want to check out the pier?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye, and Sam couldn’t help but nod, memories flooding back to him, the drawer of his mind bursting open and papers flying about.

“Uh, actually-” Bucky started, continuing once Sam’s eye stopped on him. “I wanted to check out some more mutant holes before we, you know, do that stuff.”

Sam raised both brows, starting to nod, and then stopping. His brain went over a few too many scenarios in a split second and he asked, “You want to wait so we can go together?” Not that bitter Gamma Soldiers would automatically go after him, but-

Bucky chuckled, breaking the tension. “I’ll be fine. I was alone with Leila and Janet, too.”

Leila gasped. “You take that back. I can fight!”

Sam didn’t mean to chortle. “Lei, we’re talking about super-powered crazies.”

“And bullets don’t work?” She waved a small Glock.

“Put that away!” Sam snapped, pushing her arm down until she’d secured it back into her bag while she grumbled and rolled her eyes.

“Samuel, this is the south. Even that cat over there is strapped.”

Sam glanced at the cat for good measure as Bucky snorted.

~*~

They walked together through the streets, Leila’s elbow locked in Sam’s as the breeze tickled his skin, reminding him to breathe. 

“What drew you here?” he asked, peeking at her. “Taste of nostalgia?”

Leila hummed. “What drew me here is what draws me anywhere.” She winked. “A scoop.”

“God, you really never change…” Sam shook his head, making a dramatic exhale. “Or, rather, the good parts of you don’t.”

She raised a brow. “And the bad?”

“They evolve,” he said simply, starting to walk faster before she could hit him. “Come on! It used to be five-six dudes!”

“We were in middle school.”

She caught up to him, and he accepted his hit, laughing. “And now we’re grown, and you’re still chasing scoops with no regrets. It’s complicated as hell but really that simple. You get scoops.”

Leila pursed her lips. “Journalism is not in your cards, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I know that, woman. I save people, that’s my simple. I take problems and I goddamn solve them.”

She was quiet as they came upon the pier where they used to sneak off too. “It’s even simpler than that. You care. That’s your thing. When others would keep walking, you stop and care, even about cats with pistols.”

The waves sounded in his ear as he thought on her words.

“Let’s dance.”

Sam raised his brows as high as they could go. “Excuse me?”

Leila had already decided, and she marched up to a concrete bench and started a track on her phone as Sam jogged after her, groaning like he wasn’t ecstatic to get up to some chaos.

“Right now? In public? I’m like forty-”

“Are you okay!?” Leila shouted, making him laugh as she broke into dance, “Are you okay, Annie? Are you okay, Annie!?”

Sam’s cheeks burned as onlookers glanced at her concerned. Damn it, now I have to so it looks normal. As normal as two grown people busting a move on the pier could look.

Smooth Criminal invited Sam in, and then her track switched to the old school stuff and, well shit, Sam wasn’t going to hear that and not dance.

He couldn’t even see the faces in the crowd, he didn’t hear them, shouting back at her, “It was all a dream!” and pop-locking all the soreness out.

For a moment, he was young again.

~*~

“Bucky…”

“Yes, tiny dancer?” he murmured back, cucumbers over his eyes.

“Why am I only getting a massage? You’re the one who pushed for it.”

Bucky sipped on his fourth mimosa while Sam had a whopping one. That glutton. “Cause I wanted my honey to relax, now relax.”

Sam rolled his eyes, wincing as the masseuse damn near chopped his spine in half, and a groan left him, receiving comments that he had a lot of tension. “Yeah, high stress job…” Sam whispered weakly, ignoring the quiet chuckle on the other side of the room.

Bucky sat in a mud bath, wearing a mud mask, and holding his drink, sipping with a straw. Sam wouldn’t pity whoever was footing the bill. At some point, he figured that Rhodey readily agreed since he himself probably signed everything on H.A.M.M.E.R. or whoever’s card.

“Apparently they do seaweed wraps, too, and they’re edible,” Bucky added as the masseuse once again pounded Sam’s shoulders, leaving him breathless and unable to retort.

When his session was over, Sam laid there on the bed to fill his lungs with oxygen again, feeling like a tenderized steak. Bucky had gone to wash all the mud off, and Sam knew for a fact that would take a while, so he took advantage of the silence to do a breathing exercise and practice the affirmations he’d gone over in therapy.

That he was okay, and he could handle anything thrown at him. Not everything would be in his control. Sam took the opportunity to enter the steam chamber and continue his calming thoughts, cynically thinking maybe he could sweat out his problems. All the world’s craziness could seep through his pores and dissipate into the air.

The door opened, and Sam peeked his eyes open, definitely sure that they’d booked the spa for two hours. That included gift bags by the door stuffed with top-of-the-line samples. God bless someone’s credit card. Bucky entered in a towel, wet hair plastered against his head.

“Hey, sexy cat,” Sam said with a smirk.

Bucky slid onto the bench next to him and kissed his cheek. “You just in here, alone, thinking?”

“I’m the thinker. Captain America is on vacation.” Sam smiled as the kisses reached his ear. “Mmm. You said you’d behave till we got to the hotel.”

“I mean, we’re in a hotel,” Bucky countered, making his way to Sam’s neck, left hand reaching over and sliding across his knee.

“Sure you won’t rust in here?”

Bucky paused, scoffed, and then stopped his assault as Sam smiled. He leaned on Sam’s shoulder, tangling his right hand in Sam’s left. “You cut me deep, doll.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “I could give you a massage.”

“Hotel,” Bucky mocked.

Sam rolled his eyes in disbelief. “Not that kind of massage. I took a class once as an elective. Learned a couple things… can’t say I’ve heard any complaints.”

Bucky tilted his head. “Noted. Other men have enjoyed my Sam’s hands. I’ve got some murdering to do.”

“Oh, that is not fair-” Sam swallowed his words as Bucky’s lips were on him again, more feverish this time, making him shiver with want. “Baby, please,” Sam didn’t mean to moan out in that tone that only riled Bucky up more.

“I do aim to please,” Bucky whispered and then bit his lower lip.

Sam groaned. “And if the masseuse sort of comes back while you’re… acting devious?”

“Mm, I wonder…” He chewed Sam’s lip, making him melt, trailing under his neck, and then kissing down his chest. Sam squirmed, watching Bucky kneel in front of him and pull the short towel free, not that it could hide his growing erection as was.

“Babe,” Sam pleaded, eyeing the door.

Bucky laughed. “Jesus, doll, they’re not coming back.” He swiped a hand through his hair, pushing it all the way back, exposing those sultry eyes and beautiful jaw. “Promise.”

Sam couldn’t retort. His wrists were being tied behind his back with the towel and pulled tight, leaving him exposed and very horny. The only thing blocking his full frontal was Bucky, and he was already taking advantage of his position, hands at Sam’s base.

“Behave.” Bucky winked and then sucked at him gingerly.

“Fuck,” Sam whispered.

Had the heat been turned up?

Sam’s thighs clenched as Bucky pumped his length, tongue working generously over his tip. The build up met Sam quickly. “Baby, I can’t-“

Bucky smiled, switching to one hand as he swallowed, blue orbs watching Sam’s jaw fall open. A long moan left as Sam came, doubling over slightly. He whimpered as Bucky gulped and licked up salty remnants.

“God, you are bad, Bucky,” Sam whispered, catching his breath and slouching against the wall. He managed to untie his own wrists while asking, “Do you have some kind of Bucky Sex List?”

Bucky looked up at him surprised, ideas and math equations swirling in his head. “Shit, why don’t I have one…”

Sam groaned, the high flowing through him, too tired and affected by the humidity to argue back. “I’ve created a monster. Come here, monster baby.” Sam reached a hand out and Bucky smirked, rising up so that Sam could meet his hips at eye level, one arm leaned against the wall. 

Bucky’s towel was raised as Sam peeled it off, giving him a kiss on the stomach and then on his hip bone. “Doll, please, fuck,” Bucky hissed as Sam thumbed his dripping tip, only kissing softly around his crotch. 

“Patience.”

“We’ve got like 10 minutes left.”

Sam paused, squinting. “Good. Add getting caught to your Bucky List.”

Bucky bit his lip, making Sam roll his eyes as he went in and licked a stripe up his underside. Bucky sighed, cursing as Sam smiled, not willing to admit he loved the way Bucky could melt in his hands.

Sam wasn’t as generous with quick relief this time, and he slowed as he felt Bucky get closer, earning moans. 

“Doll, like 2 minutes, fuck-“

“Bend over a little.”

“What?”

“And turn this way.” Sam rotated his hips and Bucky groaned in anticipation, gasping when Sam spread his cheeks and trailed his tongue around his hole.

“Oh, Jesus, doll-“

“Shut up unless you want us caught. Hands on the wall-“ Sam asked with a smile, “You can come from just this, right?”

Bucky started to retort and then shuddered again, hips moving back against Sam’s face. Sam chuckled, licking at his hole and rubbing his thighs, listening to Bucky’s breaths grow ragged. He groaned, fingers curling tight, and Sam gave in partially, reaching around to stroke him in tandem with his licks.

Like magic, Bucky gasped and filled his hand, sighing in relief, forehead pressed against the wall.

“God, you’re a fox, falcon.”

“You started it.” Sam gave him a smack. “I like the spa, after all.”

When they left, Sam felt glowing and like a new man, smiling ear to ear at the desk employees, which earned him a couple extra samples. 

Bucky marveled. “I feel 30 again.”

Sam laughed, taking the elevator up with him to raid Rhodey’s mini bar.

“Well, you look damn good. He cleaned your facial hair up real nice.”

Bucky pouted. “I prefer when you do it.”

Sam rolled his eyes, grinning as he took in the luxurious place with freaking gold-trimmed everything, a piano, and- ah- an excellent rum collection.

“Sam!” Bucky shouted, making Sam raise a brow and put his bags down, heading into the master bedroom.

Bucky lay on the bed. “Draw me like one of your French girls.” Except the bed was rotating. “Am I saying that right?”

Sam cackled. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

---

Delacroix

Sam yawned, feeling both hungover and rested as he leaned in the passenger’s seat. He’d tried too many dishes to be real. Bucky would process them at breakneck speed, but Sam felt stuffed like a pig, and a run was in order to combat whatever weight he’d certainly put on in a few days. There was a sense of calm before the storm in heading back to the town and knowing what he had to do.

“I miss it already,” Sam sighed, “Food don’t taste better nowhere else.”

Bucky agreed. Low jazz played on the radio as they looked over the sunset together. “We should visit often, take the boys and Sarah. They’d love Janet, she’s a little spitfire.”

“Literally.” 

Sam remembered the beaming smile on her face when he’d deployed his wings and lifted off. With permission, he then took her for a ride a few feet in the air and brought her back down. By the look on her face, she’d probably tell that story to anyone who’d listen for days to come. Sam couldn’t usually get into fan culture, but there was something pure about children that he loved. 

“Hey.”

Bucky glanced over, eyes both on the traffic and Sam. 

“Would you ever want any…” Sam swallowed, feeling awkward as Bucky eyed him intently. “Kids I mean.”

Bucky didn’t hide his surprise, and he only hummed, staring down in thought, never mind that he was driving. “Kind of.”

Sam turned in his seat completely. “Really!?”

Bucky huffed, cheeks going red. “I mean, yeah, if you wanted any.”

“Baby, that’s one hundred percent not how it works.”

“Well, we’re not in the male pregnancy universe, so-” Bucky shrugged. “It’s a complex decision to think about. Who’s would it be? I mean, obviously yours. Or, like, we could adopt? Er, foster?”

Sam felt a smile form on the thought that Bucky had considered it.

“I’m pretty much clinically psycho, but I can like… keep a house from blowing up. You’re hot and absolutely perfect with the most time-consuming job in the world. We’d either be the best or the worst parents ever.”

“You… wow.” Sam felt the emotion hitting him, and Bucky tightened his hands on the wheels. 

“I didn’t mean to- like- imply- I didn’t even ask what you would-”

“Yes…” Sam whispered, “I love you, baby, kids wouldn’t change that… but I’m at that age where if I never have any, that’s okay, too. I don’t think I intend to retire any time soon. It’s scary, but maybe I like doing this crazy work and thinking I can change the world. That’s not really suited for a kid to come into. And,” he chuckled, “I doubt either of us would pass guidelines for taking one in.”

”Fuck. It’s the PTSD, isn’t it?”

Sam smiled. “Among other things in this field.”

“Well, we are still uncles. We get to do fun stuff but give them back at the end of the day.”

Sam didn’t mean to laugh so hard, but he couldn’t deny that fact, either. “Shit, right. There’s the cute but gross diaper stage, psychotic toddler stage, and the teens are a nightmare.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “You take that back, my nephew’s a teen and very well-adjusted.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “That’s even more reason to get our weird adult shit together. You remember your folks ever fighting?”

“Actually, yeah…”

“So do I, and my parents loved each other like no one’s business, but I still remember one or two. I don’t want that for Cass and AJ. I had TT, but-”

“They have us,” Bucky said firmly, reaching for Sam’s hand.

Sam took it, swallowing the bit of doubt that crept up. “They have us.”

~*~

“Ugh, what the hell are y’all old heads doing back here?” Sarah made a face. “The honeymoon over, already?”

Bucky pinked.

Sam gave her a playful push. “Oh, shut up, evil sister. I bring gifts and offerings. And it was work, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes, making them plates of freshly baked cinnamon rolls as Sam pulled in his small gift bags, hearing steps bustle down the stairs.

“Uncle Sam!? Uncle Bucky!?” AJ shouted.

“Don’t run, jeez!” Sarah sighed, shaking her spoon as AJ bounced into view, tackling Sam in a hug before he could put the bags down.

Sam laughed. “Dag, did time move slower for y’all, or something?”

Sarah shrugged, wiping her hands on a rag as Bucky dug in to his roll while meeting AJ for a hug and managing to ask him what he’d been up to, mouth full.

That did it. Like a film roll unrolling, AJ started a long story as Bucky nodded, stuffing his face yet managing to make all of the correct facial expressions.

Sarah slipped out while they conversed.

Sam followed her, holding a small bag. “Before you ask, it is a boring home decoration, just like you like. I passed over all the jewelry and perfumes just to get you a paperweight. Plus rum.”

“You’re an ass.” Sarah laughed, taking the bag and peeking inside. “You really worked your whole trip?”

Sam cleared his throat, crossing his arms and facing the porch. “Might have had a date or two… ran into Leila Taylor.”

Sarah paused, mouth falling open. “The papers chick?”

“Writes for the Daily Bugle, looks unfairly younger than us, and-” He clenched his jaw. “Apparently, she was writing that column on all my outfits.”

A laugh met him. “Good, someone needs to shame you out of Dad jeans.”

Sam shook his head. “Et Tu, Brute? Damn.” He listened to her crinkling in her bag, humming in approval before asking, “Is Cass sleep early, or?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” her tone was low.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, “Did something happen?”

Sarah started to talk and then made an exasperated sound. “Shit. I don’t know. I’m just his mom who he gets moody at now and doesn’t tell things to. I can only hope he might whisper something to AJ and, well, AJ can’t keep a secret, so then I’ll know. The silent treatment is worst than anything. Hell, even Gideon asked, and that man can’t see no one else but God.”

Sam nodded, rubbing his chin. 

“I wondered if we should try some type of therapy, but… that’s a lot for a kid. What if that’s scarier than him sorting whatever it is on his own?”

“Is he upstairs?” Sam asked.

She gave a tired yeah.

“I’ll give it a try. At best, he budges. At worst, he knows we’re here for him.” Sam hugged her and then trailed back inside, finding Bucky and AJ going through a bag with trinkets and water taffy. Bucky had a soft smile on his face, but Sam could see in his eyes that he’d overheard.

~*~

Sam knocked on the door to Cass and AJ’s room. “Yes?”

“It’s me, Uncle Sam.”

There was a pause, and then, “Come in.”

It felt like a small win, and Sam readied himself before entering the space, squinting in the dark. “You home, Dracula?” Cass clicked on his lamp, and Sam smiled. “Good, I just wanted to see you before Bucky eats your cinnamon roll.”

Cass shrugged, ducking back into bed. “He can have it if he wants it.”

“You feeling alright? Pretty early for bed.”

He nodded. “Web.MD says teenagers need up to 10 hours of sleep. Plus, tall kids get growing pains as their joints accommodate their bones.”

Sam leaned against the wall, thinking as Cass sat up against his headboard, twirling the blanket in his hands.

“Are you in some kind of hurt? I mean, I’m pretty tall, and so is Uncle Gideon and your Mom.” Sam smiled, “You might be next.”

Cass huffed. “Uncle Sam, of course, I’m going to be tall. That’s just heritability.”

“Right…” Sam said with a chuckle. “Well, I’m gonna head back down. Uncle Bucky picked out some books you might like.”

Finally, Cass smiled. “Oh, okay.”

“Night, Cass.”

Sam waited for a goodnight and then closed the door, holding his breath until he went back downstairs. AJ hugged him goodnight and then went to clean up for bed on Sarah’s order. 

“Anything?” she asked.

Sam only shrugged, seeing Bucky chew thoughtfully.

~*~

The apartment was a townhouse style and unassuming. Gideon’s Cadillac was parked outside of it, and there was the faint scent of Cuban cigars on the porch. Sam knocked and then waited, nerves stilled. He’d already talked himself into a confrontation, and Bucky, that cretin, said outwardly, “Go bust his lights out,” which Sam assured Bucky he wouldn’t do. 

There were heavy steps before the door opened with a creak, Gideon’s eyes on Sam plainly. “Brother.”

“Hey…” Sam said, “We should talk.”

Gideon didn’t nod. The door closed, and then there was the jiggle of a chain before he was revealed fully and pushed open the screen door. Sam stepped inside, finding a place for his shoes by the door, taking in the simple appearance of the apartment.

It was small but cozy, and the furniture seemed to have already been there. The couch and chairs were well-worn, and Sam couldn’t imagine Gideon on a brand-new set. He was old school through and through. There was the faint smell of smoke, small bible study books, a cross on the wall, and black Jesus in the corner on an end table. 

“You moved in alright?” Sam asked, following Gideon’s body to the kitchen where he took a plate and bowl to the sink. His silhouette looked oversized over the small counter, and he came back with a glass of water. “Place looks fine.”

“Speak your mind, brother.”

“Right…” Sam muttered, taking his drawstring bag off his shoulder and sliding it open. Gideon drank his water, eyes on Sam, reading his expression the way Sam did others. Sam loathed feeling like he was being examined on the table as he pulled the file out.

Gideon’s brow twitched as Sam placed it on the coffee table. Sam imagined anyone would be alarmed to suddenly receive a file with their own name on it. Granted, an incomplete one.

A long exhale met Sam and a hard glare. That wouldn’t work on him. He was already in so deep and not willing to back down. 

“Came across this,” Sam said casually, leaning into a hip. “Learned a couple of things.”

“Is that the only copy?” 

Sam rolled his eyes, walking to a couch chair. “Do I look stupid?”

“Not my place to judge a man’s appearance,” Gideon said simply, staring at the file but not touching it like it was something dirty and impure. “You gonna ‘talk’ or what?”

~*~

Exhaustion poked at Sam as he stepped into the cottage. “I’m alive, baby!” he shouted, eyes looking for Bucky.

No answer met him, and he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag before trailing to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna drink from the spoooout,” he offered, eyeing the bedroom and then going in at his usual orange juice. It drove Bucky crazy when he did that.

After putting it away, he walked into the bedroom, seeing the bathroom door open and empty. Sam rubbed his head, deciding to tidy up as he waited for Bucky.

There were a couple of things out of place as he unpacked their suitcase, humming to himself and then finally lounging on the sofa, yawning.

Click.

The door unlocked and Bucky stepped inside, making Sam smile. Heart calming on queue. 

“We should get a washer and dryer,” Sam said, “We’re running out of clean clothes.”

Bucky took off his jacket and also kicked his boots somewhere. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Maybe a tub, too. I don’t know where we’d put it, though.”

Bucky hummed, hopping over the side of the couch and sliding down until he landed on top of Sam, placing a peck on Sam’s lips. “I’ll knock down a wall, extend the bathroom. How’d it go?”

Sam hugged his shoulders, taking his weight. “It went.” Bucky tilted his head, understanding. “You stopped by the market? We’re kinda running out of groceries.”

“No, I was at Sarah’s,” Bucky mumbled, pushing himself up and sitting next to Sam with his legs folded. “I- uh- talked to Cass a little bit.”

Sam raised both brows, straightening his posture. “Really? About what?”

“Some things that were bothering him… uh, kind of me rambling about the forties for some reason. Oh, he liked the books, too.”

Sam nodded, eyes flitting between Bucky’s expectantly. Bucky didn’t look up, rubbing a hand over his brow.

“Kay… what else?” Sam chuckled. “It’s some kind of secret?”

“Yeah.”

“So, clue me in-“ Sam paused, feeling like his gut dropped as Bucky gave him an awkward look. “Wait, really?”

Bucky sighed. “I pinky promised.”

Sam chuckled dryly, getting up from the couch. Bucky’s eyes followed him to the kitchen. “Those things are kind of juvenile, Buck.”

There was a grunt as Bucky thought, and Sam held a glass tightly and filled it with water.

“I mean, he’s a teenager… pretty sure we had those, too,” Bucky’s voice drew closer, and Sam filled a second glass. “Sure you’re good about… him? Gideon?”

Is there a reason Cass couldn’t speak to me?

“Sam?”

“It’s Gideon, so…” he motioned, not immediately wanting to relive their conversation.

“Yeah, but…” Bucky muttered as he accepted a glass, unclipping a family-size bag of chips on the counter. There was silence between them that sort of clung to the air. 

“You’d tell me if it’s something dangerous, right?” Sam asked him mid-crunch. “Something like not detrimental to his well-being, or… anyone else’s?”

Bucky swallowed and nodded quickly. “Of course… I- I don’t think it is.” His eyes flitted in thought. 

Sam tightened, exhaling through his nose. “You don’t think?”

“It’s not.” Bucky decided. “I googled it and everything.” He winced as Sam raised a brow. “Fuck, I’m already saying too much.” A groan left his lips and he leaned on his elbows. “I feel like I’m the worst adult to confide in.”

“Yeah, but you’re who he trusted, so…” Sam mumbled, staring at the magnets on the fridge.

“It’s not like that, Sam!” Bucky huffed. “I just gave him the books and pitched the treehouse idea, and he kind of opened up… I- I didn’t mean to, you know, overstep. Doll, I’d never try to get between you and-“

“Well, you’re his uncle, too. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Sam took his glass as Bucky made a frustrated sound in his throat.

Sam felt queasy in his stomach as he reached the doorway, but Bucky didn’t stop him.

After a shower, he sat on the bed, drying his skin and putting on lotion. Bucky eventually came in to use the bathroom, and then he re-entered the room in the dark, moonlight shining through the curtains. Sam laid on his side, facing the windows, hearing Bucky move around and then feeling the bed dip as he slid in.

Sam felt him scoot closer, and then he sighed, rolling over to his other side instead. There were grunts and then the soft clicks of his arm detaching, surprising Sam. 

That conversation came back to Sam, and how Bucky only felt comfortable being with Sam without his prosthetic… because they loved each other.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quickly, feeling like he had a balloon inflating in his belly. 

Bucky came closer and wrapped his arm around Sam, kissing Sam’s temple.

Sam rolled over to face him, feeling shame that he could be so petty.

“Bucky, you’re not the worst adult to confide in. You’re his family, and he loves you..” Sam sighed. “I’m the one acting… petty when I should be grateful that he trusts you enough to open up.”

Bucky looked taken aback, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Sam. I don’t take this family lightly, I promise.”

Sam hugged him tightly, hiding his face in Bucky’s chest. “I know, I love you. Thank you for being there for him.”

Sam buried the feeling in his gut that still wanted to know what was said; his imagination went to the worst.

***

Chapter 18: Imposter

Summary:

Sam talks with Gideon, leaving his mind wavering. Maria awaits.

Sam’s eyes opened, and he was awake, heart pounding in his chest. It took him a moment to register that he was in his bed, but it felt like it was shaking. He stared at the ceiling, trying to quiet the noise in his head. There were feelings flying around, and too much was crashing into each other at once. His palms felt cold, and he slowly turned his head to see Bucky with eyes closed, jaw parted in a snore.

Sigh. Sam rolled onto his side to face the window, hugging a pillow to his chest to quiet the pounding. He counted in his head, trying to remember his toolbox, but his mind flashed back to Gideon, to Cass, to Terrance, hell, to Bucky, to Sarah, everyone, everything. 

He couldn’t breathe.

“Mm,” Bucky moaned quietly, the way he did when he’d stretch and start to wake up. He rolled onto his left, mimicking Sam’s posture and scooting closer. Sam didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes snapped shut as if Bucky couldn’t tell when he was awake. 

“Morning,” came softly as Bucky pressed his cheek to Sam’s back, his warm right hand rubbing Sam’s shoulder.

“M-morning,” Sam managed, trying not to twitch from his shallow breaths.

Bucky hugged him closer, placing a kiss on the back of his neck. “You sleep okay?”

Sam paused his thoughts, finding a new area to direct on. Like the tone Bucky used. “What do you mean?”

There was a pause, and if Bucky felt Sam’s heart beating wildly through his back, he didn’t say anything. Or, maybe Bucky understood the way a simple question could make Sam start thinking of all possible routes.

“Well,” Bucky stretched in his sleepy voice, rolling onto his back. “You were a little restless-” he yawned, rubbing his eyes, “I mean, then you went to sleep, but-”

“I’m good,” Sam said quickly, managing to sound as usual.

“Kay…” Bucky mumbled. “I know it’s early, but we didn’t get a chance to talk about Gideon, so I wondered if-” another yawn. “-Fuck, I dunno.”

Sam turned back and gave him a soft smile, disregarding the concerned, sleepy eyes. “Baby, get some rest before you go all interrogation mode.” He leaned over and kissed Bucky before inching to the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna go run.”

Bucky blinked, nodding, then his brows started to knit. “I-I’m not interrogating-”

Sam crept into the bathroom. “Running.”

“Literally,” Bucky muttered, too low to hear.

Sam closed the door and took deep breaths, eyes squeezed shut. I’m good. Everything’s good. I can handle this… all of this. He opened them, and then took his medication. A run was good. It would get all the kinks out of a weird morning. That was his routine. Sam liked routines. 

Once he finished brushing his teeth, he opened the door and found Bucky hugging his pillow, lips in a pout and eyes glaring.

Sam sighed, trailing to the trunk at the foot of the bed with all of their clothes thrown about messily. “Baby, I’ll be right back,” he said, digging for something to run in, “And then let’s make breakfast together?”

Bucky nodded, but his eyes had a tint in them that Sam wanted to avoid this time. He sucked his lip in, and then sat up to click on his arm. The air felt awkward as Sam pulled on a pair of shorts and a loose-fit t-shirt. 

“Alright,” Sam mumbled, and closed the bedroom door, shaky in his steps as he made it to his sneakers and tied them.

There were footsteps that gave him pause, but Bucky didn’t come out of the room, and Sam exhaled, feeling like a coward.

~*~

Gideon’s apartment was dim-lit.

“Yeah…” Sam answered slowly, crossing his arms for comfort as Gideon glared at him. Sam settled into the worn sofa, feeling the springs creak as he readied himself. “But I think it’s time you did some talking.”

Gideon crossed the room to pick up a lit cigar as if Sam had interrupted him during a smoke. There was a chuckle as he exhaled the fumes, shaking his head. “Brother, any other time you don’t want to hear what I have to say-”

“I want to know about JJ,” Sam said sharply, prepared for a hard response, knowing he was poking the bear at its most sensitive spot after a long hibernation

Gideon turned around slowly, venom in his eyes as his shadow lurked across the wall. “Excuse me? Brother, surely you’ve lost your God-given mind.”

“No, I haven’t,” Sam snapped back, gripping the arms tightly as he sat forward. “I don’t want to talk about damn church, Gid, I want to talk about what made you into…”

“What? A monster?” Gideon growled, squeezing the cigar so tightly it could pop. “You think I’m like the villains you put down on that little job, hero boy?”

Sam tightened his jaw.

“Pardon me, hero man. If you’re trying to take me in, go ahead, Sammy, I won’t even fight you. While the real criminals run free, you can play good cop with your big brother.”

Closing his eyes tight, Sam hissed.“Honesty is for people who tell the truth. I know about Ryker, about… the gamma radiation experiments, how he used JJ against you. You’ve got a kill count-”

Sam raised his voice as Gideon tried to speak.

“I know, we all got a count.” Sam exhaled. “Believe it or not, I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to talk to you as a man. I want to know why… I want to understand…”

Sam didn’t know what to expect, but there was silence, and Gideon filled his lungs with smoke before exhaling, making the air feel thicker as he leaned against the counter. His posture was still proud like a Wilson man.

“You don’t know anything, Sam,” Gideon growled, eyes somewhere else, hard stare locked onto the drywall. “You’ve never been a father. I would have done anything to protect that boy from himself, from the world, your world and all that shit you bother with every unholy day, messing around with that…”

Gideon exhaled smoke through his nose, showing some restraint.

“Forget it. I didn’t have perfect vision in every decision I made, but never once did I stop fighting so that no one else’s boy is ever taken by one of these monsters.”

Sam’s brows dove. “Even if you have to become one?”

“You think we all get perfect choices in this life?”

The question took Sam aback, and he couldn’t register the look in Gideon’s eyes because it felt eerily… familiar. It almost took Sam into the past, seeing who he used to look up to before he blinked it away.

“No,” Sam admitted, “We don’t. I have… a lot of regrets. Times I wish I knew more or could see from a birds’ eye angle.”

Before silence, Sam added, “Tell me how he died.”

Gideon looked at him intensely, eyes wide with anger. 

Sam swallowed. “I just… I didn’t want to read it in a file. I wasn’t at the funeral. Sarah said it was closed casket-”

“Damn right you weren’t.” Gideon’s glare returned.

Sam tightened, feeling a lump in his throat because this wasn’t guilt he would allow Gideon to push onto him. Especially when he’d already done it to himself once he was unblipped, seeing Bucky again for the first time, tears filling his eyes. Only days later did the real horror come when he realized the world went on without him, that he’d been effectively deceased.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there… but half the world was gone, too. You can’t hold that over me.”

Gideon narrowed. “You ran off to play hero, Sam, and then got yourself killed while the family- while Sarah needed you.”

“I’m here now,” Sam hissed, not expecting himself to sound so angry. “And I was here before-”

“Please. I know about the Raft, being locked up over some white man when you should’ve stayed the hell out of it. Sarah ain’t see you for two damn years-”

Sam buried the fury in his chest. “Sarah’s grown and she got over it! I’ve apologized a thousand and one times, and I’ll do it again!” He bolted from his seat, Gideon’s eyes closed. “Are you mad that I couldn’t help you with JJ? That I was fighting for my life? Gideon, I didn’t even know what the hell was going on with you!” He shook his head, unwilling to watch Riley fall again, “I was out there being the soldier you said I could be.”

Gideon scoffed. “Doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t have come.”

Sam looked away, dodging the verbal hit to the chest. “You don’t know that…” he whispered, bearing his teeth, hating how easily Gideon was getting to him, how he was able to pick him apart like slow-broiled meat pulled from the bone. 

Sam exhaled, lowering his shoulders, leaning one arm against the chair’s tall back.

There was silence, and Gideon said, “He got sick… the kind you don’t come back from.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered. “I’m not here to blame you. What I know today is that you’re still working with the Gamma Corp, and… they’re not good, Gideon.”

“They’re soldiers doing a job.”

“And bullies, and people who would attack innocents. Who’d attack my friend… while he’s at a bar minding his business,” Sam said quietly, making Gideon narrow his eyes, “And me and Bucky, and endanger onlookers.”

The surprise on Gideon’s brow unsettled Sam. 

“Don’t you know that? Aren’t you taking on contracts, too?” Sam pushed out of his lean, going closer. He searched Gideon, meeting a tight jaw. “How the hell would you not know, they’re your-”

“My what?” Gideon hissed, extinguishing his cigar, frustration on his face. 

Sam crossed his arms. “I don’t know. I figured y’all worked in pairs.” He read Gideon, humming to himself. “So you work alone.”

By the irritated glare, Sam was right.

“Huh.” Sam tilted his head, “Figures. You are kind of a hardass.” He raised a brow, leaning into a hip, testing, “Almost as annoying as Grey.”

“Samuel…”

“Come on, oblige me. I’ll tell you what I know, and you… can decide how helpful you want to be.” Sam tried to smile despite how stressed he felt, staring at Gideon hunched over the counter, back large and strong from carrying all those secrets.

Sam continued before he got the chance, giving a synopsis of New Orleans, namely the necessary details, and the fact that he’d met now all of the soldiers. “Timothy even did some head-loopy shit to me, but you should’ve seen how Bucky-”

Gideon bared his teeth, and snapped, “Do you think this is a joke, brother? Dealing with these heathens?”

Sam recovered. “No… I think I’m doing my due diligence as Captain America and investigating a public threat.”

“You could’ve-” Gideon stopped, deciding to light his cigar again, a new one, like a mere talk with his younger brother required the strong stuff. “Been killed.”

Sam had read over the post-blip pages in the file, and he didn’t find current casualties. That gave him hope that Gideon would see reason.

“Forget it. You’re not gonna stop, you’ve got a death wish. Always have since you were two feet tall.”

What restraint Sam had built up was knocked over like a Jenga tower. “Why do you do that?!”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Do what?”

Sam gritted his teeth, stepping closer. “You act like…” Fuck.

“Like?”

Sam trailed toward the window, making eye contact with black Jesus, asking him for strength. Black Jesus provided none.

“You’re fucking hard on me all the time. Pa wasn’t even like that to me… he was patient, and you’re an ass. It’s like you asked if anyone’s gonna fuck with Sam’s emotions and didn’t wait for a response.”

Gideon narrowed. “You didn’t know him as I did.”

Sam scoffed. “Here we fucking go.”

“Sammy.”

“Stop! Pa loved me, you, and Sarah. He was hardworking, always thinking about mom and his family-”

“You don’t know everything,” Gideon growled again.

“Then enlighten me!” Sam yelled, “Tell me what the fuck I don’t know since you’re all-knowing and I’m just fucking Sam!”

“You were too young to remember him drinking and raising hell.” Gideon sighed. “You were young…”

“No, that-”

“-is the truth, and you don’t want to hear it.”

“You loved him, Gid, you adored him! You were on that boat every damn weekend!”

“Of course I did. Pa was strong. He put the Lord first and brought himself back from a dark place. A lesser man would sink deeper. You knew him in his better days, nothing wrong with that,” Gideon said solemnly, a faraway look in his eyes, but it didn’t sound real. 

“W-what kind of hell?” Sam asked quietly, eyes flitting between Gideon’s.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Gideon-”

“Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

Sam felt like electricity was flowing through his veins, like anger. He didn’t know what to think. To him, his father was warm and loving, always laughing and smiling. He’d come home humming after a long day’s work, help Ma with work, give her a kiss on the cheek. Was Sam a liar now to say his parents loved each other? What weight did his words to Terrance hold? Was Gideon lying? Why would he lie about this just to mess with Sam?

“Sammy, you don’t have to think on it-”

“That’s not fair,” Sam whispered, trying to imagine how much he didn’t know, how much was kept from him. Did TT have a bitter past, too? Why did it matter? He loved his family, why did it-

“It’s not your burden to bear,” Gideon said firmly. “Go home, Samuel.”

Sam shook his head, eyes landing on the folder. Finally, he said, “I-I’m not dropping my case. I just… want you to cooperate with me so that I can… so that you can help yourself. The stuff these Corps are doing isn’t right. If you think you’re different, prove it.”

Sam pulled the folder into his drawstring bag and then stood up, eyeing his brother again. He could see a lot in his expression. Anger. Concern. Some Jesus-driven drive that got him out of bed each day.

Things he’d never tell Sam.

~*~

Sam gasped for breath as the wind whipped past him, realizing he hadn’t paced himself. He slowed down, chest on fire, endorphins pumping through him with rage and fear.

He shouted at nothing, a random string of syllables that he needed to get out before he finally slowed to a jog and collapsed onto a patch of grass, rolling onto his back.

His heart was pounding and the sky spun. When he was younger, he’d look at that spinning pattern and imagine it was a portal pulling him into the sky. TT used to laugh at that analogy.

“Little Sam, that was five minutes longer than normal,” she said with a pearly smile, “I thought the portal people got you.”

Sam huffed, accepting a tall glass of orange juice to quench his thirst from his jog. He didn’t let it show that he was happy to see this was one of her good days. Then he said, “TT, you know I’m real tall now? I can’t still be little.”

Ma scoffed, shooing him with a rag. “Ain’t no such thing as portals and sky people. You still got growing to do, boy. Get ready for the bus.”

Sam said Yes Ma’am and gave them both a kiss on the cheek. He was older now, so he didn’t make a face and complain back that the kids at school didn’t care how pressed his jeans were.

When he came back down the stairs, Ma was gone to open up the restaurant and TT was fussing with a braid or two in Sarah’s hair. She finally let Sarah go, and then pressed a warm hug on Sam. “There are portal people. There’s all types of people if you look for them.”

Sam didn’t know if he believed it that deeply, but the sparkle in her eyes made him want to.

What if every cloud could be his Ma or TT watching him? 

Or Pa. That made him shut his eyes, scared of what he might say.

~*~

Bucky was cleaning the countertop when Sam came back in, drenched in sweat, knowing his muscles would clench since he’d slacked on a good stretch. 

“Hey,” Sam said with the breath he had left, trailing to the counter. It looked squeaky clean, though Sam was pretty sure it wasn’t dirty before he left. “My bad, I took a different route, was a little longer.”

Bucky scooted over as Sam squeezed by into the fridge, finding his usual orange juice jug. The cool drink made him feel mildly better and he sighed, opening his eyes to see Bucky’s eyes on him like a cat.

“Shit. Shoes,” Sam murmured, putting the container on the counter.

“No, it’s-” Bucky was cut off.

Sam hustled back to the doorway to sit down and took his sneakers off. “What is it, baby?” he looked up, calling across the space.

“You look, uh, refreshed.”

Sam thought over the words. “A little. I think running does that to you.” The ache in his chest wasn’t quite gone, but he felt like he could breathe. His usual meds were probably helping with that despite the alcoholic load they’d been working against.

Mind a little clearer, Sam winced at the scattered array of their shoes by the door, wondering how neither of them had tripped already. 

“What are you hungry for, Buck?” asked Sam as he picked up pairs and arranged them along the wall, making a mental note to buy a shoe rack later. Bucky shrugged, wiping a different counter when Sam glanced up.

He grabbed the last pair of Bucky’s, and his brow twitched. Hot.

“You went out, babe?” Sam asked, unassuming, casual.

Bucky tossed the cloth in the bin. “Uh, just for some air.”

“Okay…” Sam mumbled, joining him at the counter.

The mood felt odd, and he realized they hadn’t kissed yet. Usually, one of them came in and they kissed, which was maybe becoming a cottage thing. Sam leaned in as Bucky turned back, not expecting him to flinch.

“Oh, I- I didn’t-” Bucky stuttered.

Sam felt a bit of panic rise, searching his eyes. Of course, he’s acting weird when I was first thing in the morning.

“I shouldn’t have-” Sam started as Bucky said, “I followed you.”

They both went silent, and Bucky cursed under his breath.

“What!?” Sam asked, jaw open. “I was gonna say I shouldn’t have left without telling you I’m having an off day…?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, eyes growing sorry, and Sam felt like it was his fault. On the other hand, being followed irritated him.

“Bucky, what the heck?”

“I-” Bucky groaned like the words were painful. “I was worried, Sam. I- I don’t know what to do with the silent treatment, and fuck, it freaks me out.”

Sam exhaled, putting the juice away and pulling out a carton of quick eggs. “Fine. I get it, I’m an asshole just like my brother.”

Bucky paused. “I mean, he is kind of an asshole.”

Sam pursed his lips, pushing a few more ingredients into Bucky’s hands. “Oh, so you’re agreeing I am, too?”

“When you want to be,” Bucky murmured, a pout on his lips that Sam wanted badly to kiss. Sam put down the pancake mix and closed the distance.

“I’ll let that slide cause you’re handsome,” he whispered and kissed Bucky, not expecting Bucky to scoop him up by his waist to deepen the kiss. Sam found room for his arms around Bucky’s neck. They broke away, Bucky hugging his face into Sam’s neck, sighing.

Sam felt Bucky’s heart pounding against his chest, and guilt filled him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel…” Sam tried.

“Shut up.” Bucky held him closer, making Sam understand. He closed his eyes and let himself be grounded by the touch. 

~*~

On the couch, Sam sat with a plate of half-finished eggs, sausages, and what was previously waffles with whipped cream.

“I’ve been anxious this morning, thinking about my family… had some old stuff dug up that just… made me feel unbalanced.” Sam leaned against Bucky’s shoulder, watching Bucky pick off his leftovers.

“That sucks,” Bucky mumbled, brows knitting.

Sam furrowed his brow. “Some of it’s my own brain going… cuckoo.”

Bucky scoffed, finishing the last bite of waffle crust. “Sam, you are the last person I’d think of as a cuckoo. You’re so great it should be illegal.”

Sam chuckled. “That makes no damn sense.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Bucky grumbled, washing it all down with Sam’s last sip of orange juice as he smiled, amused. “I’m so in love there's no sense here anymore.”

“But you feel okay?” Sam asked, brushing his knee.

Bucky set down the glass, brow furrowed. “I don’t know. I was so busy worrying about you, I forgot I felt like an imposter.”

Sam widened. “What? Why?”

“It’s fucking stupid.”

Sam searched his eyes, running his brain’s computer for a solution. He landed on one he didn’t like. “Is it because of Cass?”

There was silence and then a slow nod.

“Bucky, baby, I didn’t mean to act… jealous. He worries me, not because of you, but because I worry, period. Even now, I’m just…” Sam looked away. “I don’t know.” 

“You do know, what is it?” Bucky asked quietly, two fingers caressing Sam’s chin and bringing him back, seeing his eyes gloss.

“It’s about my Pa. Gideon told me some things-”

Bucky let his chin go, shaking his head. “Fucking ‘course he did. I should’ve gone with you.”

Though, they both knew that would be a worse idea.

“What things?”

“About how he wasn’t who I thought… that he’d been a bad father before I was old enough to remember. I always knew him like a hero, Bucky. What if that wasn’t real? He was the first image I knew of how to be a man before he passed. And I’m supposed to be that for AJ and Cass when I might have just been believing in some fantasy? Shit, maybe I’m an imposter, too.”

Bucky snickered.

“Babe… come on, I’m spilling my whole heart.” Sam looked at him crazily.

Another laugh met him, and he saw Bucky grin and wipe his eyes. “Doll, I promise I get it, but if someone like you is an imposter, then the rest of this world is the land of make-believe. Jesus, I love you. Fuck.” Bucky tackled Sam into a hug, whispering “We’re gonna have to be imposters together.”

Sam smiled, laying back on the couch as Bucky buried his face in his chest. “Okay, let’s be imposters and the best uncles in the world.”

“We’re gonna make the treehouse to end all treehouses.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Ugh-”

“What was that?”

“Woo-hoo, baby… can’t wait…” Sam tried.

“That’s the spirit.” Bucky kissed his nose and chin, and then he pushed off from the couch, making Sam tilt his head back to follow him upside down. Sam then rolled over and sat up as a shirt flew at him. Bucky explained with a signature smirk, “Shower. Coming?”

Sam pursed his lips, giving it a dramatic minute before he scrambled from the sofa.

~*~

The restaurant had a steady quiet in the afternoon. There were a few people picking up orders, and Carlos at the register, but otherwise, only Sam and Bucky were sitting down.

Bucky ate a chicken pot pie with lobster mac and cheese as Sam yawned, his computer open. He’d already sifted through emails about Terrance’s progress and other Cap things he technically wasn’t supposed to be doing, but it was silly to pretend he was still on vacation and not in the middle of a mission. 

Bucky peeked over between bites and offered Sam some banana pudding, but he shook his head. Before clicking his last send, Sam sighed, leaning back into the booth.

“Maria?” asked Bucky, reading her name.

She’d been pacified by short reports, but the idea was to actually meet and discuss their next plan of action, together. They hadn’t consulted her about New Orleans. Sam had the feeling being filled in over email would be like a slap in the face.

“Thinking,” Sam murmured, crossing his arms. Bucky leaned in, his free arm wrapping around Sam’s shoulders. Sam could feel Carlos’s smile on them before he looked into Bucky’s eyes. “We’re gonna most likely discuss the group and information Rhodey got us.”

“So we fly back to New York? Make a plan.”

Sam exhaled through his nostrils. “You’re not gonna like this.”

“Try me.”

“What if we take… him,” Sam said quietly, careful not to say Gideon’s name out loud.

Bucky paused. “No way.”

“It’ll be just three hours flying, five tops.”

“Grrr.” Bucky removed his arm, finishing his pudding angrily.

“Oh, grow up!”

~*~

How Sam had managed to get Gideon on a quinjet headed to New York must have been a miracle. Maybe he should’ve been glad that Gideon took up ministry in the crowded state before, raising JJ there, and that did give him an easy out.

Sam always considered his options before saying yes to something uncomfortable, so he knew how easy it would be for Gideon to storm off if Sam pissed him off too much.

Pride was a factor, too. How many times had Sam poked at it now? “If you think you’re different, prove it.” And his final, “I guess if you’re fine with letting others speak for you…”

Sam’s efforts were a small success, but now he had to deal with the discomfort of sitting in silence with Gideon and Bucky, and the occasional glare between them that made Sam feel queasy. 

“You good?” Bucky had asked after Sam shifted in discomfort for the third time. 

Sam smiled and nodded, but he wanted to ask the pilot to float stationary over an empty patch so he could hurl overboard. After an hour and a half of sitting stiffly, he finally leaned over onto Bucky’s shoulders and closed his eyes.

He’d never usually slept in the jet on a mission, going over scenarios and checking his gear. This time, he justified that this was simply traveling. The real stress was only to come, right?

Time passed.

“Sam,” Bucky’s voice came through the darkness, and Sam realized they’d landed on the helipad of the compound. Sam made an acknowledging moan and pushed himself upright. The door to the hatch was open, and the pilot was standing outside.

Bucky started on their shared bag, and then got out, leaving Sam to shake the sleep out of his eyes, stretching before he joined Bucky and Gideon, the temperate air comfortable against his skin.

“Ready?” Bucky asked.

Sam affirmed him, then thanked the pilot before telling Gideon that Maria was waiting for them. Gideon simply nodded, and they both stood stationary.

They were both waiting for him to go first.

Right. Shit.

That nap had taken a few marbles. Sam steeled his nerves and headed into the hallway. They continued down it in silence until he found an elevator.

“Like a ghost town,” Gideon commented.

“We’re a little understaffed,” Sam muttered, passing empty rooms with their lights off. Bits of sunlight bounced between the walls between their bodies. 

Gideon only grunted in response.

“This way,” Bucky’s sharp voice made Sam freeze, realizing he’d kept going right past the room. 

“Shit, I thought-” Sam shook his head as Gideon eyed him funny. “Oh, shut up, we have like five conference rooms.”

Super-hearing came in handy.

Bucky went in first, and Sam followed, finding Maria Hill sitting on a chair that seemed a few inches higher than the rest. She donned her usual smooth bun and a pantsuit this time. 

A few chairs from her was Bruce with his usual calm expression, but his exterior broke for a moment as he made eye contact with Gideon. Sam glanced over his shoulder, seeing a hard look.

“So…” Sam broke the tension, giving a neutral PR look, “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

~*~

Sam sat between Gideon and Bucky, Bucky closer to Bruce, and Gideon closer to the door.

Maria’s lips flattened. “That we do. Let’s start with this.” She cleared her throat and eyed Bruce, making Sam shift.

Bruce reached over for the remote, Gideon tightened, and he pressed a button. A screen lit up, angled on each end of the large round table. 

Sam widened as old-school music entered his ears and he saw a video of himself, dancing on the pier with Leila. It was a screen recording. There were likes and comments popping up, heart eyes, love emojis, and coincidentally, Leila’s face was cut out. 

He felt himself burn with embarrassment. 

Bucky didn’t even try to cover up his laugh.

Sam sighed, smiling extra wide. “Thank you, really, Maria… I didn’t know I looked that good on vacation.”

“Real good,” Bucky supported, smirking.

Bruce stopped the video, eyes apologetic, albeit amused. “For what it’s worth, they’re great moves.”

“You brought me here to watch this?” Gideon asked, thick voice breaking the air.

Maria’s face held no expression, but Sam and she had a staring contest. She spoke over him, “As I was saying, there seems to be a lot we haven’t been sharing with one another, fellas, namely why you brought a suspect right in front of me.”

Gideon eyed her and she crossed her leg, immune. Sam glanced at Bucky, and then back at Maria as she commanded the room with ease. Fury brat.

“I want a full report, and don’t waste my time.”

-tbc-

Chapter 19: Good Trouble

Summary:

Gideon cooperates with the investigation. The team goes on a stakeout.

Notes:

thank you for your patience my creme de la sambuckies

EDIT: idk why my pasted format made some sentences repeat o-o ... but i fixed them lmao... oof

Sam and Bucky laid out the facts. They’d investigated the abandoned laboratory and met Griffin and Prodigy. The summary was moreseo for Gideon, considering that Maria had assigned the mission herself, but the impatient click of her pen tapping the table let them know she was unimpressed.

“Is that all?” she asked, brow raising as Sam and Bucky eyed each other. “Or is there something you intentionally left out?”

“We also,” Sam interrupted, clearing his throat, “Found evidence of a third person at the laboratory, and,” he raised a hand as her face twitched, “I know, we should've informed you but we needed more information before speculation… and…” he motioned.

“Criminalization?” Bucky offered.

“Barbarisation,” said Bruce.

“Accusation,” Gideon threw in.

“No, I mean-” Sam sighed with Maria. “Nevermind.” He sat down, waiting for the bubble to pop.

It did. Her brows were knit together, eyes sharp like an eagle. “Who was it? Government? Super-villain? Skrull?”

“Rhodes,” Bucky answered.

Maria huffed under her breath, leaning back and switching crossed legs, equations behind the flit of her eyes. “And that’s why you were in New Orleans… the political conference. I bet you were sniffing his trail. No, I’m sure you assholes defected.”

Bucky opened his mouth, then mumbled, “…he’s a good negotiator.” And they had enough samples and wine to last a month or two. 

Sam stood again, eyeing her firmly. “Last I checked, you and Rhodey are both military.” He paused, feeling narrowed eyes, “Shit, yes, we’re all military, but you’ve got channels you don’t share with us, Hill.”

“What are you implying, Wilson?” She smiled.

“We don’t trust you,” Bucky finished as Sam started the same sentence.

“Damn it, Buck.” 

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled, clearing his throat, “Go ahead.”

“We can’t trust you,” Sam emphasized, a hand on the table, the sound echoing nicely against the tall ceiling. “It feels like we’re pawns on your little board. Tell us the truth, or we go figure out more of it ourselves, and I won’t do any of it the chaotic way-”

“Jesus, Sam,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “Can you put the cap speech away for one hour?” He swallowed, ignoring the scoff from Gideon, and nodded. “If you need it spelled out, yes, I assigned this mission knowing that a suspect may be your relative and despite the fact that knowing so could teeter your judgment-”

“Hill,” Bucky warned, glaring.

She crossed her arms. “There’s no conspiracy. I’d like to know what potential threats are under our noses before they become them, not after. What you’ve given me is information on four hostiles working right under our nose - fucking Rhodes - and the verbal promise that the fifth isn’t like other gamma agents. Is that right?”

Sam swallowed and said slowly, “We have a file on Gideon, and, as you can see, he’s not running the streets.”

She merely humphed.

“I think it’s time we confront them,” Sam added, “Head on. I’ve had Joaquin running some tests, tracing the location of the members.”

Her head tilted, a glimmer of interest in her eye. “I’m listening, Wilson-Barnes.”

Sam’s cheeks burned. “He’s got predictive models based on sightings… new tech stuff. Kid’s a genius.”

“You mean stalking,” Gideon said low, eyes hard.

“Based on sightings,” Bucky retorted, “We’ve noticed you’re not very green.”

“I- uh- have a few theories about that,” Bruce said quietly, making their heads turn to him. “Right, not the time.”

“You’re going to predict the location they may be at?” Maria asked, bringing the room back with ease, “Then what?” They didn’t answer. “If you’d like to take care of the threat completely, you have my support, but that doesn’t seem your style.”

Sam hesitated, not willing to admit he hadn’t thought that far. And, saying something as ridiculous as ’then they’ll reveal their secret mission’ would be juvenile.

“You do know what head-on means, right?” she asked, almost smiling. “Doesn’t cap need a warrant to bust in the front door?”

“We have one through Rhodes,” Bucky countered, “He’s frozen their contracts and they’re under review.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, a fist on the table, then quieter, “I’m aware that might not be enough…”

Gideon broke the silence. “Trying to take down the corps isn’t worth it.”

There was a pause before Maria asked, “Because you have a vested interest in their well-being?”

Gideon narrowed, voice breaking into a growl, “Because you don’t look for damn trouble for the sake of. You want to play with your own life, go ahead. Lord send you kindly.”

“Trouble… has been making itself known without our help,” Bruce added awkwardly.

Bucky crossed his arms, arguing, “We can’t sit like ducks and wait for them to do something worse.”

“No, we can’t,” Maria supported.

Gideon scoffed. “Then what’s stopping y’all from going ahead and cleaning house?”

Sam’s eyes fell on him, brows lowering.

Maria’s loud sigh broke the air. “You need me to spell it, Reverend Tight-Ass? You’re a corp, most likely a package deal to the government. We can wait for Rhode’s clearance, but I’d bet my ass that the “Go” button will wipe all of you.”

Sam couldn’t disagree. “That’s why we should act first. As I understand, officials drag their feet on things like this. We have days.”

“It can’t be hastily, though,” Bruce commented, rubbing his chin, “Or we risk drawing attention to the group as a whole.”

“I’d like us to be able to prove Gideon’s cooperating,” Sam added, “If the worse case.”

“Easier said than done,” Bucky muttered.

“Is there anything you know that can help?” Bruce asked carefully, eyeing Gideon.

Their eyes all fell on Gideon, red glowing above his head from a streak in the sun. Sam searched him, noting how he didn’t meet his eyes. “Gid?”

Finally, an exhale. “There’s a meeting coming up. For the corp.”

Sam widened. “Wh-where?”

“An undisclosed location.”

Bucky’s jaw shifted. “You’re fucking kidding.”

Bruce sighed as well, and Maria’s bun lowered a centimeter.

“Come on, I need more than that!” Sam hissed.

“Grey sets them up, and he’s thorough. We’re given a general area and then details only an hour or two before. It keeps everyone safe.”

Bucky scoffed. “You’re trying to tell me that guy cares about anyone’s safety?”

Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder, motioning for Gideon to continue.

“That’s all. They’re just check-in meetings, notices on what to watch out for. It’s safer than digital where every damn thing is recorded.”

As they digested the information, Sam decided. “You can’t go.”

“Sam-”

“It’ll be dangerous.”

Bucky hesitated, the chair creaking as he put his elbows on the table, and Maria’s eyes followed him, a chaotic wavelength connecting. “He could… be the man on the inside, give us information, something that incriminates them.”

“That’s a deal I can work with,” she said.

“It would be odder if I didn’t show without a reason,” Gideon reasoned.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t like it. Are we forgetting that Prodigy reads minds?”

Bucky shot back, “They probably knew his brother was an Avenger, Sam, and nothing’s happened. Who’s to say-”

“It could be our way in to help him and find out what their real motive is,” Maria defends, “This is our Trojan Horse.”

Sam’s teeth clenched, loathing how she jumped to take advantage of the division. “That story was a freaking myth. Playing dice with a life is real.”

Their voices rose, biting back and forth until Bruce interrupted. “Uh-” Sam eyed him, and he cleared his throat. “I think I can help.”

“I don’t need your help,” Gideon growled.

Sam felt a vein throbbing in his head.

~*~

Smooth jazz played through the air over the sound of water running. Sam sat on the edge of the large bed in their compound apartment, face in his hands.

Bucky emerged in the doorway, holding a half-eaten breadstick. “I’ve got a hot bath ready for my sweetheart.”

Sam raised a brow. “We’re showering and having dinner at the same time?”

“Well,” Bucky mumbled, mouth full, “Was gonna let you have… some time alone, yeah.”

“Ah.”

Bucky winced. “Wrong call?”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, realizing the dull ache in his head from thinking had lessened. “Thank you, baby. I think decompressing is good for me right now.”

He slowly rose and met Bucky at the door with a kiss, tasting salt on his lips. “Don’t eat all the breadsticks, though.”

Bucky smiled, following him to the bathroom with a smirk. The large space smelled like lavender and jasmine, and his eyes fell to the tub at the corner of the room. There were two candles in safety holders at the foot, and the water was swirling with blue and green.

“God, baby, if you wanted me out of my clothes you just had to ask.” Sam laughed, peeling off his layers slowly, eyeing the steaming water hungrily. “Sure, you’re not coming in?”

Bucky hugged Sam’s back and placed a kiss on the nape of his neck, whispering, “Next time. Want you relaxed.”

Sam chuckled again, feeling a blush creep up to his ears. Once stripped fully, he climbed into the tub, moaning as the hot water burned him just right, all of his worries sizzling with the steam. He sank down to his shoulders, head leaning back against a towel folded at the side for cushion, watching Bucky light the candles and blow out a match.

“Shout if you need something, or moan. Super hearing.”

Sam rolled his eyes, smiling as the light dimmed. Hearing the music soften as the door closed, he felt like he was in heaven, loathing Stark for the filthily great technological advancements he’d made. The tub was definitely designed for comfort and as he breathed, the water stayed warm.

Bucky really did know him best. The time alone was needed, and he let all of his thoughts and emotions flow out, whispering affirmations to himself, that everything would go well. Bruce would create a device to counter mind control and Gideon would return from his meeting unscathed. 

There’d be no need for fights, for bloodshed. Beyond that, they would get to the bottom of this case and return back to work. Start their life together, build a (ridiculous) treehouse, be the best uncles in the world.

Sarah would rest at ease seeing her boys supported. There wouldn’t be any more fighting between the siblings. AJ might realize his true calling in storytelling. Cass’s issues would be sorted, and he’d open up to Sam, and laugh about how small the big things feel afterward. Terrance. Leila. Wherever he is, Steve.

I don’t do this often enough… 

I know, but if you’re listening in that golden house, God, can you please tell TT to watch over us, make sure we’re doing the right thing…

And protect my family.

Bucky.

He tightened his eyes.

I love him.

~*~

Morning came, and Sam busied himself with laundry, cleaning the apartment (even though the home cleaning bot beeped angrily), and heating up their leftovers as breakfast. Bucky’s light snores echoed down the hall and then stopped.

After the familiar sound of vibranium clicking, Bucky shuffled in his slippers down the hallway with a tired smile. “What was that about eating all of the breadsticks?” he asked in a sleepy voice that Sam would find enticing if he wasn’t stressed.

“Eat up, we’ve gotta strategize with Bruce,” Sam answered, shoving half a breadstick into his mouth.

Bucky chewed, raising a brow. “Pretty sure he said he needed a day-”

Sam eyed him.

“Yeah, mm, right.”

Once they ate and Bucky groggily snapped on fatigues, they left the apartment, trailing down the hallway to the elevator. Sam felt a buzz through his fingertips.

Bucky sipped a coffee in his ear, having noticed that he didn’t need any himself. Sam felt very awake since sunrise, working the restless energy out through (unnecessary) chores.

The coffee did smell heavenly, though. After a sip, they journeyed to Bruce’s lab, Bucky’s hand entangled in his, making him slow down his steps and lower his shoulders.

“Think he’s even a morning person?” Bucky asked.

Sam paused. “Shit, I didn’t think of that.”

Clanging of metal answered them, and they made eye contact before entering flaps of plastic and finding Bruce - sort of. He was large and green, wearing glasses, and gave them a shy smile. “Sorry, I can be clumsy at this size. It’s been a while since I transformed.”

“Right…” Sam tilted his head, finding rows of coffee cups. 

“Those are old,” Bruce informed him, “I do in fact sleep, and I practice yoga if you’re wondering how I maintain this calm.”

Sam could only nod.

Bucky seemed to readjust easier than him. “We came to check on your gammatron 3000.”

Bruce and Sam both scoffed.

“That’s the last name I would give such an advanced tool. It isn’t finished, by the way, I probably should have specified a time frame-”

“Bruce, you’re doing a lot as is,” Sam said, following him deeper into the lab. “You’re helping my brother, and therefore, me.”

There were tech pieces scattered about on a bench and small stones with glowing centers. 

Bruce was quiet at first, his hulk-like muscles shifting as he moved items with a grace different from his size. “I’m also helping me. I can’t help but feel like this is partially my fault.” He continued, “I hurt a lot of people as Hulk, including your brother.”

Sam frowned. “You were blamed, that’s not the same as hurting someone directly.”

“I do vaguely remember throwing him through a wall.”

“…well damn.”

“Th-that was the past, though. Hulk was being cornered by the corp, and- ah, bygones.”

“Right,” Sam muttered awkwardly, leaning against a different counter. “Gideon would hate me for asking, but what do you remember about him? I wasn’t here during the blip, me or Bucky, and I feel like I missed all of this madness.”

Bruce chuckled, picking up something shiny. “Madness, that’s one way of putting it. The blip let free a lot of things. There were no societal borders for five whole years. People who didn’t have a voice had the space to build bridges.”

Bucky furrowed. “That extends to evil, too. Would have been convenient if only the bad half of humanity was snapped.”

Bruce exhaled through his nose. “The question is how many of us ‘good guys’ would’ve gone, too.”

Sam didn’t like the train of thought. 

“I don’t remember a lot about Gideon. His corp was tasked with hunting down the Hulk, and I wasn’t exactly… conscious for every chase. When I was, it was like talking to people who were angry and hostile… grieving. The only thing I really knew was his face, abilities, and…”

“JJ,” Sam said quietly, brows diving. “You knew JJ.”

Bruce nodded, turning his head, face sad with something even in its green form. “If I could have changed the outcome or done anything differently-”

“What happened to… JJ?” Bucky asked.

“I knew him as Jim. Back then, I couldn’t separate myself from Hulk or keep him suppressed, and I was on the run. In California, I came across this young man, bright and curious. He seemed to be running from something, but so was I. Every time I came to, I was scared that Hulk had hurt someone, but he and Jim got along… we all did. It brought me back, made me less afraid.”

Bucky blinked. “How would you know Gideon’s son but not him? Wouldn’t he have been… pretty young?” 

“JJ ran away from home,” Sam said quietly, “I remember that much. I couldn’t help because I was serving. So he found his way to the west coast, that’s a Wilson spreading his wings.”

Bruce nodded. “He loved jazz; he was always going on about different musicians and people from Harlem who didn’t get their fair chance.”

Sam smiled. “I had sent him a few records for a birthday.”

“The more I think about it, he was a lot like you,” Bruce muttered, putting down a small device, “If it weren’t for his patience, I wouldn’t have sorted some of my government troubles. I went back to lab work on the condition that he was contracted as a special liaison for Hulk. That way, he could get money to take some classes. His calling was social work. Helping people was important to him.”

“I- I never knew that,” Sam whispered, feeling emotion hit him as Bucky touched his shoulder. “He had a life, a real life.”

There was quiet.

Sam broke the silence, “I can’t help but ask.”

“He contracted the HIV virus.”

“You’re kidding,” Sam’s jaw fell, feeling Bucky hold him tight, “That’s so unfair. Fuck…” thoughts swirled in his head, and he swallowed. “Thank you, Bruce, for telling me this. It means a lot to me.”

Bruce nodded. “I thought of your nephew as a good friend.”

Sam smiled. “I’m glad that he had you.”

With the skill of a mad scientist, Bruce gave Sam a kind smile and then returned, “One of you has to get hit with a ray gun to test this out.”

Bucky stilled as their eyes landed on him. “Shit.”

~*~

“The way the device works is that it blocks gamma waves. The notes on Prodigy’s abilities indicate that the waves have to interact with a target in order for him to read minds. My theory is that if they can’t, his ability shouldn’t work.” Bruce pointed to a whiteboard with equations. His form was regular again, average height and mighty. “Similar to how the vibranium protected you as a barrier, Sam.”

Sam nodded as if he could follow the black scribbles. “So the waves couldn’t penetrate Wakanda’s finest.”

Bruce continued, “In theory. I don’t have enough vibranium to make a shield, but this device should disperse the waves. The caveat is that it may weaken Gideon’s own ability. Fights are best avoided.”

“Meaning no acting like an asshole,” Sam added.

Gideon glared, arms crossed. “I’m always pleasant, brother.”

Maria’s voice cut in, her face on a screen on the table. She was in the back of an SUV. “You have a location?”

“Outside of Houston,” Sam said, “We won’t know the direct coordinates until close by. I’m bringing Joaquin in to help me survey the sky.”

She hummed, eyes preoccupied with a tablet, and then she nodded. “Good, I want frequent updates. You have vehicle clearance. Be in touch.”

The screen cut and Sam exhaled, pushing up from the table. Gideon’s, Bucky’s, and Bruce’s eyes followed Sam until he turned around, hands on his hips and chest puffed.

“Avengers… assemble.”

Bucky held in his laugh while Bruce looked at his equations.

Only Gideon blatantly rolled his eyes. “Sammy, aren’t you embarrassed? Sit down.”

~*~

Outside of Houston

Sam sat in a jet with Joaquin, carefully tuning his gear as Joaquin fiddled with knots, buttons, and gears. “That’s the third time you’ve turned on the heater, Quin.”

Joaquin paused and moved his hand back mid-air, clearing his throat. “You adjusted that left thruster an hour and a half ago.”

“Didn’t,” Sam argued.

“I could run back the footage-”

“Jeez, fine,” Sam sighed, putting down the wing pack and leaning back in the seat. “This waiting is driving me crazy. Don’t you have some kind of new AI you can write up?” 

Joaquin narrowed his eyes. “I appreciate the belief in me, but no. Cheetos?”

“They better be flaming hot,” Sam muttered as Joaquin rustled through his pack, “At least Bucky gets to ride a motorcycle right now.”

“The weather’s nice, too,” Joaquin mumbled, mouthing a handful and then passing over the bag, “And the algorithm’s been running, but there’s one or two things I don’t understand.”

Sam raised a brow, leaning in to see the laptop screen. “Isn’t that the point of the computer understanding for you?”

“Ha ha, I mean - look,” he pointed, “These lines trace a movement pattern between the members. You can break it down by individual, team, or overall group. It was a no-brainer they were headed toward Louisiana or Texas, but I don’t know why.”

Sam crunched, picking his brain. There were four different color lines overlapping and running from North to South. “That could just be where their contracts were.”

Joaquin pursed his lips. “Mutant activity only in one direction? Say you’re in Kansas and a… magic school bus explodes in Brooklyn, I’d expect a double-back, not a clear path.”

“I get it,” Sam muttered, furrowing over the data.

*”I hear Brooklyn?”* Bucky asked, voice static.

Sam smiled. “Yeah, baby, welcome back to the land of the social.”

Bucky sighed, the sound of dim country music and talking in the background. *“This bar sucks. Would be better if a fight broke out.”*

Joaquin’s jaw dropped. “We’re in a stake-out, not a shoot-out, Sarg.” Then his eyes flitted. “There is a mutant fight club in Dallas, though, could get you in.”

*“Shit, really?”*

“No,” Sam said sharply, “He’s messing with you.”

Bucky made a loud sigh. “Whatever, I’ll be on standby. Connection sucks here.”

There was a click, and then Sam glared at Joaquin.

“I was serious, you know,” met him casually.

“Do not give our Barnes any ideas, Quin. Dag, what are they teaching y’all in training? You violent little gremlin.” Sam snatched the bag back as Joaquin reached over. “Hell no. I know not to feed you after midnight.”

~*~

*“Hey,”* Bucky’s voice came in static, “Gideon’s got some coordinates. It’s at a warehouse in the city, he’s gonna head in.”

“Shit, alright, we’ll follow in stealth,” Sam said, nudging Joaquin who had his eyes closed. “Game time, little Falcon.”

“Gotcha, big Falcon,” Joaquin murmured, wiping his eyes. Sam trashed their wrappers of snacks and then started up the quinjet out of idle. “Should keep the power low, just in case-” he yawned “-they’re tracking energy ratings.”

“Good thinking,” Sam affirmed. “Buck?”

There was a low purr of his motorcycle starting. “I’ll find a closer bar to hang by.”

Sam nodded, swallowing. He dialed Gideon’s line, waiting for the click as the jet moved forward. “Bucky’s getting in position. You good?”

“Long as you don’t blow my cover with this needless bickering.”

Joaquin’s brows raised.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, seasoned thug. Keep your comm open. If something happens, that device will send us a distress signal-”

There was silence and the rev of his Cadillac.

“Gid?”

Joaquin typed on his computer as Sam guided the autopilot to a secure location. “Permission to speak freely, sir?” He waited for a nod. “Your brother’s kind of scary, kind of cool.”

Sam sighed. 

~*~

Gideon drove through the streets of Houston, Cadillac windows rolled down, the breeze wafting through the car, carrying his Cuban cigar scent out. He had a set brow and a firm hand on the wheel, well awake despite the late hour. There was the low sound of chatter on his comm fading to silence, and then only the sound of Stevie Wonder on the radio.

As he turned into the coordinates given by the GPS, he parked in an abandoned lot next to a slim busted motorcycle, a jeep, and what looked like the leftover parts of a chopped bike.

He adjusted his mirror, finding green irises meet him - his own once brown. Then he put out his cigar, putting his lighter in his leather coat pocket where his wallet with a photo of his son and ex-wife was tucked, and next to it, a small, yet intrusive device that didn’t belong. One made by that doctor he didn’t trust.

Getting out, boots crunching on the asphalt, he took careful steps inside and stilled himself, prepared to walk in, and if it was in His book on this night, prepared to not walk out.

~*~

“I’ve got all parties in position, Bruce,” Sam said, “Me and Joaquin are ready to provide sky support. Gideon’s entered, but he won’t be reporting to us for… obvious reasons.”

*“The device should work. I am confident, Sam,”* Bruce said.

Sam felt relief in those words, even if they were just being used to pacify him. “Buck?”

*“Can’t get closer, but at speed, I can make it in five.”*

That would be sooner than Sam and Joaquin could while jumping out of a jet in stealth mode. Sam exhaled, listening to a metal door scratch the ground and the sound of Gideon entering the warehouse. 

~*~

Gideon walked down a long, dark hallway, hearing the sounds of voices chattering. The place was abandoned, save for sleeping bags in one corner, vials of substances and bottles littered about, and boxes with questionable items. It couldn’t have been more than a house of delinquency, and it made his lip rise in a snarl.

At the end, there was a table set out with poker chips and a board, and Prodigy and Mess sat at it eyeing each other. 

“You’re late,” she said, still staring at the short, frail man. Prodigy was his usual green and large-headed self, while her face looked smooth and flushed before she turned to look at Gideon, revealing the side that was enhanced.

“I travel on God’s time,” he returned simply, pulling out a chair. It scratched the floor loudly, earning a hiss from the corner. 

Griffin emerged, birdlike in his walk as he spat, “We weren’t talking about anything important, anyway. We’re watching Mess lose.”

“Shut the fuck up, bird,” she growled, taking another card. There were chess pieces on the board as well, and he didn’t bother to ask what they were playing. 

Griffin hissed back at her, claws bared, and she pulled out her gun.

“Silence.” The large back of Grey made Gideon’s eyes drift to the window. Of the five, he must have been the only one who truly looked different from first meet. Like his mind was somewhere else. Gideon trusted him the least.

Mess rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s fucking grumpy today.”

Gideon finally sat down, feeling Grey’s eyes flit over him, non-hostile but scrutinizing. They all were on edge, and Griffin flinched as Gideon pulled out a cigar and clipped it, lighting the end.

“There a reason you’re all in a bad mood?” he asked, blowing out a bit of smoke. “I imagine it’s from getting your ass kicked by a couple of ‘heroes’”.

Griffin bolted from his seat, talons bared, and Gideon shot him a look that made him sit down. Mess and Prodigy eyed him, and there was quiet tension before a low, deep laugh came from Grey, making the rest calm down.

“We’ll return the favor in due time,” Grey said calmly, a smile on his face, “Does that bother you? Blood is thicker than water.”

“The blood of Christ is the thickest blood there is,” Gideon returned, “You’d all do well to remember that before meeting your due.”

“Our due?” Mess asked. “Sounds like something a traitor would say.”

Grey merely scoffed, opening a beer. “No need to be hasty, Mess.”

“I agree,” Prodigy finally said, pushing forward a stack of chips. “Checkmate.”

“Damn it!” she hissed, kicking the table hard. Pieces clamored to the floor, making Grey roll his eyes, reminding them to act civilized again.

Gideon smoked his cigar, not meeting the frustrated eyes of Prodigy. He imagined the rat would be stirred while not being able to read his mind. Would he make noise about it? Alert the team that he couldn’t use his ability? Or, would he play it off to keep his own pride?

“We don’t have any new contracts for a while,” Grey informed, putting down his beer. “Boss says its temporary, but I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

Gideon watched Grey glance at Prodigy a second time, waiting for a cue.

They’re waiting for him.

“Know anything about that?” Grey asked Gideon.

“I don’t. We’ll have to find other work,” he said simply, waving no when offered a drink.

Mess shook her head, tossing a bottle cap. “There won’t be other work. We should’ve taken that flying asshole out when we had the chance.” 

“Pathetic.” Griffin scoffed.

“You failed to inform us of meeting him in the first place, Griffin,” Grey growled, “And you, Prodigy. Seems trust doesn’t mean much these days.”

Prodigy took his eyes off Grey, looking at him, “Perhaps, we would have had more information from the source, the Avenger’s brother.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Ain’t no damn Avenger a brother of mine.” He didn’t miss the twitch of Grey’s brow. “Parading around while there are real problems on the ground. Now what the hell are we meeting for?”

“Got someplace to be?” Mess asked, “We’re effectively jobless.”

“Church,” Gideon said, glaring.

There was a smirk, and then Grey said, “The contracts aren’t an issue. We have what we need, and we won’t need to run anymore.”

“Which is what?” Gideon asked in an irritated voice.

Grey suddenly laughed. “The Hulk.”

Gideon raised a brow. 

~*~

Sam stared at the screen, jaw set tight. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Joaquin wasn’t smiling or joking. “I don’t know.”

*“Bruce, you still in that lab?”* Bucky asked. *“Blink twice for help.”*

There was a sigh. *“Of course I am, but I’m late for international yoga.”*

“Strengthen security just in case,” Sam said, getting up to stretch his legs. “The corps give me the creeps.”

*“I’ll say,”* Bucky muttered. *“Wait, yoga?”*

“Something’s not right,” Joaquin said, turning a dial. “They’re all quiet.”

Sam rushed back to his chair, squeezing the back. “What is it?”

“Signal’s being interfered with-”

There was static, and then Gideon’s voice. **“You goddamn kidding me, boy?”**

**“What’s the problem?”** Mess asked, **“Just take off your jacket unless you have something to hide.”**

Sam tightened, heart pumping, prepared to jump out of the plane at any moment. “Bucky.”

**“Whatever,”** Gideon grumbled. There was the shuffle of leather, and then the sounds of clanks and fidgets that Sam couldn’t make out.

**“What’s that?”** Griffin asked.

Gideon exhaled, the way he did when he was annoyed. **“My heart rate monitor. I don’t like being stressed.”**

**“Prodigy.”** Grey.

There were more sounds and silence, and Sam felt his pulse up to his ears, ready to call on a full assault. A sigh was picked up. **“It’s a heart rate monitor,”** Prodigy said with a tone of disappointment.

Gideon hissed, **“As I said.”**

They listened to the scrape of chairs, and then steady footsteps echoed before the scrape of asphalt and the Cadillac door opening and shutting. 

**“I’ll contact you all for the next assignment,”** Grey said, **“Be prepared to fly off-grid,”** before an engine started up, and he got in.

Sam listened to the vehicle leaving.

“I’ve got a visual on a jeep with Mess and Grey,” Joaquin reported. 

*“Is that a good thing?”* asked Bucky.

Sam didn’t answer, listening to the sounds of Gideon lighting another cigar.

**“You know,”** said Griffin, voice chipper, **“If you were a traitor, Grey was gonna kill you.”** He laughed out a squawk before his wings flapped. **“Guess you aren’t.”**

**“Lucky indeed,”** Prodigy’s quiet, sniveling voice said. **“I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I will find out. Either way, we will see you at the next location because if we don’t, who knows what might happen to a little place called Delacroix.”**

**“You’re right,”** Gideon said, and there was a slam against the car door and a grunt. **“You don’t know anything, but threaten my home again, and you’re gonna find out.”**

Prodigy cursed several times, and then Gideon’s engine started.

Sam watched Joaquin’s screen, seeing a visual of a short man limping to a motorcycle, and then Gideon pulled out of his spot.

Sam finally exhaled.

“You alright?” Joaquin asked, a hand over the comm.

“I just hate stakeouts.” Sam moved to the comm. “You in one piece, Gideon?”

He could hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice. **“That other guy ain’t.”**

Joaquin laughed.

“What was that you said?” Sam asked Gideon, smirking.

“Fuck around and find out,” Joaquin blurted out, and he and Bucky snorted back and forth.

Sam smiled. “Gid?”

Joaquin quieted. “I think he muted us again.”

Sigh. 

“Let’s pick up Bucky,” Sam said, finally sliding into the co-pilot seat again and instructing the jet to raise higher. “Before he fucks around in that bar.”

Joaquin coughed, and then they laughed again, flying to an empty field secluded by trees. The hatch opened, and Sam let himself out, making out Bucky’s figure.

Bucky leaned against his bike, helmet tucked under his arm, looking very handsome. “I ever mentioned I love you in black?” Sam asked, getting close and giving him a squeeze on the shoulder once he was close. Then he pecked Bucky on the cheek. His skin was cool to the touch.

“Ugh, get a room, dads,” Joaquin made a face from the hatch.

Bucky scoffed. “You’ll think differently when you’re my age.”

Joaquin deadpanned. “I’ll be in diapers or dead.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, kid.”

Sam smirked, watching them argue back and forth as they pushed the bike into the jet.

~*~

“So, we’re not giving back the motorcycle?” Sam asked, even though his question was answered by Bucky pushing it off the jet into what was probably their side yard or backyard. They hadn’t really mapped out the land bordering the property. 

“You said I always wanted a bike,” Bucky called from the grass, parking it on the side of the house.

Sam looked at Joaquin who shrugged. “You good getting back to DC?”

“I’m protected by a metal hunk of military magic.”

“Oh, get out of here.” Sam rolled his eyes as chuckles met him, making him wonder what the hell juice the kid ran on. Unless that’s what it felt like to be in your twenties again. Joaquin made puppy eyes, and Sam conceded a long hug before clapping him on the shoulder. “Good work tonight. I’ll hook you into the debrief.”

They watched the jet depart to the sky and conceal back into stealth, and Sam sighed. “You ever miss being young?”

Bucky wrinkled his nose. “I grew up in World War II.”

Sam huffed, unlocking the front door. 

“But yeah,” Bucky said with a laugh, leaning over Sam's shoulder to kiss into the crook of his neck, “Then I remember this is better, and that Brooklyn punk doesn’t get to come home to the sexiest man in America.”

“Mmm, you just want to get in trouble,” Sam moaned, smiling as Bucky turned him around and slithered his arms around his waist.

“Good trouble,” Bucky whispered, skillfully closing and locking the door while kissing him. He suddenly pushed Sam away and grinned, kicking his boots off. “Come on.”

Sam smirked. “Where? Into our two-room cottage?”

“I don’t know… we could fuck around.”

“Oh God, y’all are never letting that up. Don’t let him know - you ever seen a preacher snap?”

“I’ll just have to find out!” Bucky shouted from the bedroom as Sam unstrapped his wing pack, smiling at nothing. “I’m very naked, by the way!”

“Damn, already?” Sam yelled back, hopping out of his shoes and letting his adrenaline carry him into the witching hour.

***

Notes:

next time: that treehouse building chapter to ease our souls :')

(in yugioh voice) it's time to b b b b bb bbb build

Chapter 20: Treehouse

Summary:

Sam, Bucky, and the boys build a tree house!

Explicit-ish

Notes:

I feel like we've been waiting for this chapter forever. >:D it shall not disappoint!

The day was beautiful. Clear skies, forecast looking good, and the trees seemed to twinkle and the sunflowers smiled. Sam, however, was ignoring all of that because he’d entered the domain of a forties diva, the hardware store. Bucky insisted on staring at each and every nut and bolt offered, squinting so hard that he could laser a hole through it. 

Sam was secretly eyeing each item he put back, making sure there weren’t remnants of dust left over that would go on the Prince Naveen credit card - Bucky’s half - because modern ethics said you break it, you goddamn buy it.

“Sure we don’t need anything else, baby?” Sam asked quietly enough for Bucky to hear.

He earned another low, unsatisfied grunt. Never mind that a shipment of wood came in the morning while Sam was coming. It was left neatly by the road when he looked outside, and he hoped to God there wasn’t a knock but Bucky was too busy riding him and purposely ignored it.

Sam already had enough rumors going around about him, already. Jesus, Buck.

Did he mention that Bucky was ignoring the texts from Maria asking about a bike and parts not returned to inventory? And that Gideon was ignoring Sam’s texts but he didn’t have the heart to go knock on the door. Bucky had laughed, “Yeah, doll, go find out.”

To put it plainly, Sam felt stressed on this beautiful morning while Bucky looked absolutely refreshed and ready to tackle the day, one hard stare and credit card swipe at a time.

Sam needed a drink.

When they finally got to the counter, the cashier looked both grateful and exhausted, staring at the jumbo cart full of supplies that he had to ring up. Don’t ask Sam where Bucky found a jumbo-sized shopping cart, but it had the name of the next store over on it. More insult to injury, Bucky did in fact pay with their card, giving Sam a gentle smile before he swiped and the sound of hard-earned money leaving hit Sam in the gut.

That hundreds of dollars probably equaled an hour of wrestling a lake monster or recovery time off after being kicked by a centaur. Hell, it could’ve been five minutes dealing with Zemo’s prejudiced ass - he still wasn’t over that second jailbreak.

“There,” Bucky said, looking proud and ready as they pushed the cart to the truck, “Now we’re prepared.”

Sam smiled as they loaded his pickup truck. Alright, I won’t complain, this is adorable.

“The boys are gonna love it.”

“They’re gonna be fucking ecstatic,” Bucky grinned.

~*~

The boys were not ecstatic. They were arguing and both shoved papers with pen drawings on them into Bucky and Sam’s faces as Sarah pushed both of them forward toward the doorway, her eyes tired and sunken in. “Silence.”

Their mouths shut, standing upright with military posture. Sam raised a brow, smirking. “I take it that the cadets are prepared for their mission?”

“Clean clothes, toiletries, snacks, allergy medicine, Epi-pen in the left pocket - Cass can show you if AJ needs it. Your minimum is 2 days, and your maximum is forever. Don’t call me unless there’s a fire or another blip. Keep them longer and you’ve gotta take them to school,” Sarah said in one breath as she turned to get back in her car.

“They’re in good hands!” Bucky shouted back as she rolled up the windows.

Sam laughed as the car pulled off, turning to the boys. “I’ll take your bags, go ahead and show uncle Bucky your Picasso sketches.”

He placed them by the couch and then headed back outside where the sun was high and Bucky, Cass, and AJ were huddled around a workbench, staring at an array of papers. Bucky looked good with his sharp shoulders hunched over, hip poking out where his toolbelt accentuated him.

Sam smiled, bringing water bottles and placing them on the table. “Hydrate. What are we working with, builders?”

Bucky hummed, a fist on his chin. “Mapping out the base.”

“Do we have a tree?” Sam raised a brow.

Cass and AJ pointed at different ones.

“Okay… trees. Plural. That’s great, uh, when should we- what do we-”

Sam didn’t know what to ask, feeling the itch that he was out of his element which completely contradicted his busy nature.

“Buck?” he pleaded.

Finally, Bucky stood upright like a man with a mission. “Well, in order to fit a balcony, Victorian roof, and stairs, we’ll have to build on the bigger tree.”

Sam only blinked at the scribbles on the paper while Cass and AJ drank in silence.

“I want to do a square base right there,” Bucky translated and pointed.

“Ohhhh,” they went.

~*~

Once they took account of all the slabs of wood they had, the pieces being in different colors due to rescued and refurbished sourcing, Sam felt more confident about the building part. Bucky tied a plain bandana around his head and disbursed the gloves and goggles, and Sam couldn’t say his own inner child wasn’t waking up.

Laying the base took the longest. It had to be perfect and able to balance the rest of the house. Bucky and Cass held pieces down while Sam drilled, then they switched, and Sam and AJ were carrying over new plaits. What started as a square base ended up hexagonal, but it looked really nice for a makeshift build, and AJ was shouting out more ideas that Bucky took in stride.

“Uncle Bucky, will the second floor be a hexagon, too?!” AJ asked, eyes wide and moony.

Cass sighed, pushing his glasses up. “It can’t be stacked like that, look at the tree - it bends.”

Sam agreed, but he looked back at AJ who shot back defiantly, “Uncle Bucky can make anything!” Now Sam laughed.

“Of course, I can,” Bucky puffed up his chest, “But we want to make sure we have enough wood for the bridge,” he reasoned, redirecting little AJ’s big energy to wide-eyed awe. Bridge? Sam raised a brow.

“I’m gonna make some lemonade,” Sam decided, pulling off his gloves. “Anyone wanna help?”

“I can,” Cass said, and he unfolded himself from where they all sat to follow Sam inside. Sam smiled, holding the door open as he came in, realizing Cass was almost up to his chest now.

“You’re growing, man,” Sam said, brushing his short hair.

Cass adjusted his glasses, squinting. “That’s a natural phenomenon, Uncle Sam.”

“Yeah, yeah, Bill Nye.” Sam huffed, brushing him again as they left their shoes at the door. Cass didn’t seem to mind, but he had a thoughtful look on his face, the one he always seemed to have now, the more Sam noticed. “How’s it been since we were gone?”

Cass shrugged, washing his hands. “The same. Mom said if we keep making noise when she’s trying to sleep, she’s gonna have us stay here, but it looks small.”

Sam smirked, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, I don’t know if I want roommates who stay up late. I brewed some tea, too, if you want to do half-and-half.”

Cass nodded, and then they were squeezing lemons and mixing sugar in silence. Sam didn’t mean to steal analyzing glances, but he secretly wondered if this would be their bonding moment that he looked forward to. Not that Cass needed to open up, but-

“Uncle Sam,” Cass said.

Sam too eagerly asked, “What’s up?”

“You’re spilling lemon on your shirt.”

“Damn- I mean-” Sam stuttered, putting the lemon half down and finding a damp rag. 

“It might help to repel bugs. Some don’t like lemon or citronella,” Cass explained.

“I hope not,” Sam grumbled, staring at a stain in the middle of his chest that Bucky would certainly laugh at. The pitcher was finished, anyway, he was just stalling for time. “And, Cass…” he started slow, “I just wanted to check in-”

Boom.

AJ burst through the front door. “Gotta pee bad! Oh, can I have some lemonade!?”

Sam held his sigh. “One after the other, please. Door is right that way. Shoes off.”

AJ complied and ran through the bedroom to the bathroom.

“Guess I’ll go bring Bucky something to drink,” Sam said. 

Cass nodded but he was quiet. Sam took two tall water bottles outside, and then finally exhaled once he reached Bucky who was sawing through wood pieces. He and AJ had managed to accomplish a lot in that twenty or so minutes.

“Mmm, thanks,” Bucky finally said when the saw stopped, and he leaned over to kiss Sam before taking a long drink. The bead of sweat over his brow looked good with the rest of his get-up. “Guys tap out?”

“They’re getting drinks,” Sam said, leaning on his shoulder and staring down at the wood. “This gonna be a wall?”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, gotta hammer it down. Hm, you smell like lemon.” He leaned in, stealing another kiss. “Taste like it, too.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle, breaking away when the front door opened. Cass and AJ were bantering back at forth, carrying bottles with them.

“Alright, fellas,” Bucky said like he was announcing it, and they all looked up at him. “It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. Let’s get a few walls up and finish tomorrow. Clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Sam grinned, watching them jog back to the leaning tree. Bucky followed only after placing a sly pat on Sam’s butt, earning you’re in trouble eyes.

~*~

When night came, the base and three walls were secured. There were lamplights shining on Bucky’s tools as he tightened a few screws. Sam took AJ and Cass inside so that they could decide who got the shower first and the other had to help with dinner. Sam hoped Cass would stay behind, but he called dibs, so Sam mixed together seafood cakes with AJ while the TV played through a list of oldies music videos.

“Hey, AJ,” Sam said, setting the rice cooker. “Everything good at home?”

AJ looked up from his misshaped spheres and nodded. 

Sam felt guilty for prying, but continued, “That’s great. How are you and Ma?”

AJ suddenly beamed. “Mom said if the teacher tells her I put full effort into all my homework, we can go to Disney World!” 

“Wow,” Sam was impressed, “You know when I was your age, I got a fish for getting good grades. This age is real nice, huh.”

AJ scoffed. “Gosh, Uncle Sam, you sound like Uncle Bucky! He said that he had to hike ten miles to school uphill and it was raining.”

Sam’s jaw fell open, and he suppressed his laugh. “I believe him. I hiked for five.”

“You guys are not even that old! Cass said some wizards are two hundred!”

“Huh… we’re practically babies, then.”

AJ nodded, relieved that Sam, a silly adult, finally understood the world. Sam chuckled, arranging the fish cakes on a parchment-lined tray in the oven. 

“How are you and Cass, by the way?” Sam asked, adjusting the stove temperature. He didn’t let the silence he felt bother him. He looked up and AJ rubbed his head. 

“I don’t know, the same as always, I guess.” AJ chewed his cheek. “Mom was upset, though, because his grade was bad in history. The teacher said so on the phone, and I heard it on the other line.” He leaned closer, whispering loudly, “That’s a secret, Uncle Sam!”

Sam nodded, brows raised.

When Bucky came in, Cass and AJ switched and Cass was setting the table with Bucky. They chatted back and forth, the sound tuned out for Sam as he pulled out the couch. After he checked on AJ, they all sat down for dinner, the mood otherwise peaceful with seafood cakes and paella set out in front of them.

“Uncle Bucky,” AJ asked after swallowing, “How come you wanted to build a treehouse? We could have built a boat or a plane.”

Sam smirked. “Yeah, Uncle Bucky, build a plane.”

Bucky scoffed, his plate already cleaned as he forked on seconds. “I’ve already done that-”

Their brows raised in awe.

“I fixed a boat with Sam, and I used to work on a shipyard for planes - it was, uh, a little after I was on leave from basic.” His eyes scrolled through the memory, “Yeah, I had an apartment with Stevie, and work like that paid pretty good. Not as good as today, but-”

“Inflation,” Sam reminded him while sipping his drink.

Bucky made a face and the boys laughed.

“I’ve never built a treehouse, so, we get to do it first together, right?” Bucky asked with a wink.

They agreed easily, making Sam hide his smirk and the pinch in his chest from how much he adored their bonding.

“Plus, there’s not that many trees in Brooklyn.”

Sam smiled as Cass asked Bucky more questions about the types of jobs there were back then and what he was up to. It led to a long story about the Howling Commandos picking up odd jobs in between a mission to blend in with the locals in France. Bucky said Steve even picked up juggling just to make the local kids laugh, and there was a smile plastered on his face as he described one member trying to train a monkey to dance.

Soon, it was time for bed, and Sam tucked them into the pullout mattress on the couch, leaving The Little Mermaid live-action on as they fell asleep. “Goodnight, boys.”

Bucky was freshly showered when Sam returned, sitting on the edge of the bed with a thoughtful expression.

Sam smiled, slinking over to kiss his shoulder. “That was really nice, baby, sharing with them.”

Bucky seemed to break trance and rolled over to kiss Sam, his short towel not hiding much. “It’s not so bad when they ask,” he sighed, leaning in Sam’s pajama shirt. “Kids just have a way of- I don’t know- They’re so good.”

“I know,” Sam murmured, massaging his temples, earning a content hum. “Still want any?”

Bucky quieted, staring up with surprisingly upset eyes. “They’re also cockblocks.” Sam laughed, finally pushing Bucky up as he begrudgingly put on pajamas and dried his hair. “This is prime hour, and we can’t even-”

Sam shook his head, grinning. “Oh, shut up.” He got up to open the door so that they’d have access to the bathroom, then he laid down next to pouty Bucky. “We can return them later.”

Bucky made further grumbles, sliding under the blankets. He didn’t take off his arm, but Sam understood. “That’s also a problem, I don’t want to return them.”

Sam yawned, cuddling up to his chest on the softer side. “Well, you only get one treehouse. Next time, we’re fishing.”

~*~

The wonderful aroma of bacon and eggs woke Sam up, making him realize the bed next to him was empty. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep so soundly. There were scrapes of cooking utensils and hushed banter, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes and smile before finally getting up.

“Morning, junior cadets,” Sam said after brushing his teeth. He found all three of them in aprons, and he leaned on Bucky’s shoulder as Bucky mixed some kind of batter, “Sarge.”

Bucky held a goofy grin. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but you’re up.”

“So, we don’t have to whisper anymore!?” AJ shouted.

Sam laughed. “Guess not.” 

After funny face pancakes - which they insisted they were too old for despite eating two sets each - and eggs and bacon, they were back to work on the tree house.

The boys netted together a rope bridge with Sam while Bucky hammered flexible bits of wood together. The work was tedious, but it was coming together, and Sam felt a sense of ease in letting go of the responsibility or outcome. He was helpful, but this treehouse was Bucky’s baby, and Sam was merely supporting him.

The main part of the tree house was a hexagonal room with stairs leading to a castle-roofed balcony and a short netted bridge across the trees. Sam decided to make snacks alone this time, but when he returned, they’d started on a watchtower on the other end of the bridge.

“Buck, it looks amazing,” Sam said after calling them for iced tea and spicy cheese sandwiches. 

Bucky hummed with a full mouth, a hand on his hip. “It’s missing something.”

“A door?” Sam asked.

Bucky pouted to the ground where a convenient door had been built but wasn’t drilled to hinges yet. 

“We’ve gotta paint it!” AJ announced.

“That’s already in the plan,” Cass said.

Sam stared at the tree house, humming. “What about a birdhouse? I’ve made them before. It’s a staple for backyards, Buck.”

AJ agreed, beaming. “Yeah! And a garden, shed, pool-”

“Maybe we’ll start with a birdhouse,” Sam said, laughing.

Bucky squinted at the house, and then agreed, reluctantly yielding the job to Sam, who felt a bit elated to have something he was an expert at. 

“I used to make them with your grandfather, my Pa,” Sam explained as they sorted leftover wood pieces around the workbench. “He couldn’t stand cats, so I could never get one till I was older.”

“Figaro?” Bucky guessed, remembering their conversations.

Sam nodded. “You might be too young to remember, AJ. But I had a cat, Figaro, when I lived up north. She got too old during the blip. But the point is, Pa appreciated birds because they could be kept outside and go their own way. That’s where the birdhouses in the yard came from.”

Cass and AJ approved, and they started to construct a small birdhouse.

Finally, the treehouse was finished. Bucky tested his weight on each step and banged a hammer everywhere before he approved, and then Sam and the boys climbed through it. The balcony held up, too, and Sam was pleased to see that the roof was lined. If it rained, it would slide off instead of dripping through the house.

“Ser Samuel!” a shout came.

Sam grinned, leaning over the balcony to see Bucky holding a piece of wood carved into what looked like a flower. “Let down your wings, dearest!”

Cass and AJ laughed as Sam threw some acorns down, one of them bouncing off Bucky’s forehead, earning a pout and more giggles.

~*~

“You know, we didn’t get any paint?” Sam asked, sitting on the house’s stairs.

Cass looked through the telescope in the tower. Of course, Bucky also brought a telescope.

“Gonna pick some up with AJ,” Bucky said, pocketing keys to the truck. “Wanna clean up a little?”

Sam agreed, and then Bucky was getting in the truck with AJ, the sound of AJ talking his ear off before the engine roared over them. Cass was still watching birds, and Sam decided to give him some space, hopping down to gather tools.

Everything was thrown into Bucky’s toolbox, mimicking the meticulous order that Sam sort of remembered seeing. In fact, everything about Bucky’s tools was in a special order. Sam squinted as he closed the lid, starting on the unplugged saw.

Now, Sam wasn’t a fool to think love was thicker than a man’s OCD tendencies. He started to piece together clues when Cass's voice went, “Uh, Uncle Sam, can I talk to you?”

Sam’s surprise showed. “Oh, yeah. Didn’t even hear you, ninja man.”

Cass gave a fact about ninjas, and then they were sitting on the edge of the tree house platform with glasses of lemonade - it felt right for some reason. The trees were rustling with the wind and there was a breeze not too light or heavy. 

“I didn’t mean to… lie,” he started, “When I said nothing was bothering me. I just didn’t know how to… explain.”

Sam’s shoulders lowered. “Cass, I’d never be mad at you for that. Take your time. If there’s something you can’t say to me, yet, I won’t rush you. I know you and Uncle Bucky talked, and I’m glad you can trust him.”

Cass sighed, a groan escaping. “But I thought Uncle Bucky would tell you! He’s too good at keeping secrets!”

Sam smiled but his brow twitched. “You wanted Uncle Bucky to tell me? Cass, that’s-” he shook the thought, planning to kill Bucky later for being a tight-lipped perfect boyfriend. “He seemed to think you were confiding in him.”

“I mean, I was, but you live together, Uncle Sam. Plus, no one in our family is actually good at not telling everyone else if they know something.”

Sam felt a burn in his chest, unable to deny that. TT always spilled the tea with Sam, letting him into recipes, superstitions, and neighbor’s quarrels. Even Sam’s Ma and Pa would clue him into the town hall gossip so that he knew whose toes not to step on. 

Shit, Wilsons can’t keep secrets at all. Unless they’re the really big ones, then suddenly it’s all silence, like... the old ways.

It hit Sam, and he sighed. “Cass, Bucky is from the 1940s. I don’t think he’d ever spill if we confided in him.” Though, it warmed his heart to hear that Cass thought of Bucky as family. “So, do you still want to talk to me? Or, should I go to the hardware store and shake the secrets out of him?” Sam chuckled.

“No, I can,” Cass murmured, chewing his cheek, “I just realize I’m different…”

Sam swallowed. “Cass, are you… like me? Uh, I do identify as a man who’s, well, gay.” He felt awkward saying it aloud, even though it wasn’t a secret, and even more so as Cass was silent.

“Not really.”

Sam didn’t know what to make of a not really and that probably unnerved him more than a vivid yes or no. That had been his own response much of his life, when dating Leila, when meeting Riley and that not really soon turned into a yes, but I’m scared.

“Cass,” Sam said firmly, “Love is love. As long as you respect others, and always express consent - you’re learning consent in school, right?” He waited for a nod. “There’s nothing wrong with feelings for a girl or a boy.”

“I know,” Cass mumbled, “That’s what Tate said, too.”

Sam raised a brow. “Tonya’s son, Tate?”

Cass’s face tightened, and he drank his lemonade. Sam looked away, respectfully, but he couldn’t help the slight curl of his lip as he also drank. 

“Is there something there?”

“Tate thinks so…” Cass mumbled, looking surprisingly cross. “He thinks I like him back even though I said I don’t. He’s so annoying.”

Sam blinked, surprised. “Oh. Well, that’s kind of a different issue if he’s not taking a hint.” Hell, Sam had met his own collection of guys who couldn’t take a damn hint after exploring the dating world. “Cass, you are being clear with him, right?”

“Sort of…” Cass said lower, posture tighter, “When I explain it, he doesn’t understand. I don’t think I feel that way about anyone. I just… don’t like that boyfriend and girlfriend stuff.”

“You mean affection?” Sam asked. “You don’t have to like it all the time.” He smiled. “Even I give Bucky space, and you know, we’re really close.”

Cass’s nose crinkled. 

“That doesn’t bother you, right?” Sam checked.

Cass seemed to realize himself. “No, I don’t care about that, Uncle Sam, but I don’t want anyone to… be like that to me. And Tate can’t understand that. I’m not like him… or you.”

Sam’s brows raised, pieces clicking into place. “Cass, do you think maybe you’re - you know, people who don’t feel attraction to anyone? Like aromantic or-”

“Ace,” he finished, “Yeah, maybe.”

Sam sighed, a little relieved. “That’s what has you in knots?”

Cass nodded. “Now it sounds dumb.”

“Oh, heck no! What it sounds like is you’re figuring out who you are, man! I’m proud of you for being able to communicate this. Are hugs still okay?” Cass nodded again, and Sam embraced him tightly. “I love you kids, alright? This isn’t anything bad to me. I have your back and I’m here.”

Cass’s face was muffled in his flannel shirt. “Are you gonna tell mom?”

Sam thought. “Well, I’d prefer you do it if you can. If you need me there, I can help explain some things to her. I know it’s hard having an identity that people don’t understand. Even when I was thirty, being gay was this big taboo, and in Uncle Bucky’s age, unheard of. That doesn’t mean you have to feel like something’s wrong with you if you’re not… gay or straight or anything.” 

“I can try to,” Cass said, revealing his face, “She might be mad because I haven’t been… good. I said some mean things.”

“You’ll have to be grown and apologize,” Sam said firmly, “But your mom loves you, Cass. The only thing that worries me is you and Tate not having an understanding. Maybe we can find some pamphlets to give him.”

Cass thought and nodded.

“Heard your grades fell in history, too,” Sam admitted, feeling him wince, “Is this affecting school? You’re not being bullied, are you?”

Cass shook his head. “No, I forgot to study… I couldn’t sleep during test week.”

Sam looked surprised and then groaned. “Oh no, was that the week y’all talked?”

A glum nod met him. “Yeah, but it’s hard to sleep anyway, my joints are killing me. Doctor Brookes says it’s normal because we’re a tall family.”

Sam exhaled. “Damn, it’s hard being a teenager.”

“The worst.”

~*~

When Bucky and AJ returned with three buckets of paint, Sam raised a brow, shooting him a knowing look. Bucky didn’t meet his gaze, smiling like he wasn’t a beautiful rat.

“Those better not be red, white, and blue,” Sam said, “Those colors don’t mean the same thing in the south, Buck.”

Bucky scoffed. “Please, I lived through the war.”

“The civil one?” 

“It’s turquoise, gray, and dark blue, Cap.”

“Perfect.” Sam accepted the buckets as Bucky went back into the truck hatch for paintbrushes of different sizes. 

The mood was calm as they painted together. The sun set, and Cass and AJ were making patterns on the rope bridge steps while Bucky painted at the workbench. Sam crossed the grass to get a closer look.

“Hello, painter-baby,” Sam said in his ear, a hand on the back of his neck.

Bucky smiled, stroking stars on a dark purple slab. There were mini cans around him. Another slab had a horizon and little birds. The last was a calico cat with a bowl.

“Fuck, these are good,” Sam added, astonished, “Did I miss the part where you’re an artist?”

“It’s basic, really,” Bucky murmured, adding speckles to the galaxy, “Stevie was the real artist. I just worked on landscaping.”

Sam leaned on his shoulder, watching him as he worked for a few minutes. “Love you.”

This time, Bucky’s smile stretched across his face. “It went well?”

“You could’ve just told me my nephew was ace, you know,” Sam said quietly, even though the boys couldn’t hear them from their distance - and with their design arguments.

Bucky sighed. “I had to go through like two pages of google to get it myself. It makes sense, though. I knew people like that, a couple of lasses, but everyone just figured if you didn’t want the picket fence, you were gay.”

“Stupid forties.” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Tell me about it.” Bucky scrunched his face, finally putting down his brush. “Gonna dry these, make them the base for some flower boxes.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “You courting me, Buck?”

Bucky finally pulled him into a hug, pecking his lips. “If I was courting you, Samuel, you’d know. Mmm, plus you like gardening. We should make space for everything you love, even the record player and those creepy little action figures.” 

“Ughhh,” Sam groaned in his chest, “What did I do to get the most perfect boyfriend!? Get out, I can’t even look at you.”

Bucky scoffed. “Then let go of me.”

“You first.”

“Never.” Bucky put his hands on his hips.

“Then we’re stuck like this,” Sam grumbled, “Like peanut butter and jelly.”

“Or salt and pepper.”

“Ketchup and mayo.”

“Wilson and Barnes,” offered Bucky.

Sam laughed. “Sounds damn good.”

The sound of a car pulling up caught their attention, and Sam waved at Sarah. She parked and then got out, eyes wide, jaw hanging to the ground.

“How the hell did y’all build this much in two days!?” She gestured, and then shook her head, “Never mind, you’re gonna say it’s the power of love or something stupid-”

Sam’s face heated. “Believe it or not, I’m good at stuff, sister.”

Cass and AJ ran over, and she inspected them with a mother’s smile, rubbing her hands over their heads while they clung to her. “So we’re all just hugging, now?”

“Sam won’t let go, so…” Bucky shrugged.

“Bucky’s too chicken to let go first,” Sam countered, and they laughed.

Sarah checked out the tree house, unable to climb through it since the paint was drying, but she ensured them she didn’t want to. The walls were turquoise while the roof was dark blue, and the steps and small intricate areas were colored gray but designed at random.

Sam liked it, and he finally let Bucky go to hug the boys goodbye, giving Cass an extra tight hug while Bucky let AJ hang from his shoulder. Like a storm of laughter and joy, they were gone, leaving behind proof that they’d stayed over with the treehouse.

~*~

Sam picked up what pieces he could see on the ground before deciding to leave the rest for daylight. In the meantime, a hot shower was overdue to wash the dirt and bits of stray paint off. His brows raised as Bucky stepped out of the house, wearing his leather jacket and holding a helmet under his arm.

“Shit, Maria?” Sam asked, almost shifting into work mode immediately.

“Slow down, I’m just going for a ride. Come with,” Bucky said, a hand on Sam’s chest stopping him before he could rush inside.

Sam tilted his head, releasing a sense of urgency. “Not the kind of ride you usually look for.”

Bucky scoffed. “Wow, Sam. You try sleeping next to America’s most eligible bachelor and see how worked up you feel every morning.” 

Sam smiled, accepting the helmet as Bucky shook it in his hand. After changing into better shoes, he left outside into the night, finding Bucky waiting for him, looking delicious leaning against the bike. “Destination?”

“Don’t need one.” Bucky put a leg over the bike, and then made a come on head tilt, revving the handlebars. Sam put the helmet on, shifting the visor up, and then he slid in behind Bucky, pressing his chest to his leathered back. “Hold tight.”

“Wait, where’s your helmet-” Sam’s voice cut off as Bucky sped forward, hands hugging tight around his waist. They passed the Wilson family home and then turned onto the highway.

“Super soldier, remember?!” Bucky shouted over the wind.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I’d want you hurt, dummy-!”

“Then hold me, sweetheart!”

Sam shut up as they raced down the long strip of road, glad that Bucky couldn’t see his expression with the helmet and cover of night, and especially not feel his heart pounding in his chest. Sam didn’t know where they were going, and truly, he didn’t care. He loved Bucky, and as crazy as it sounded, he’d probably follow him anywhere. To the ends of Earth. Through another intergalactic battle, or down a Highway of Hell, which conveniently blasted from Bucky’s radio as he sang obnoxiously.

They laughed and sang oldies together, ignoring the few funny glances on the road. When Bucky finally slowed down on long empty strip of the highway, he turned onto a grassy field and kept going past trees. It was dark but there was a subtle brightness illuminated by the moon and stars. The radio was low, and Bucky stopped, kicking out the kickstand.

“You sleep, doll?” he asked, looking back.

Sam had closed his eyes, and comfortably hugged against Bucky’s back. “Mmm, no,” he murmured, prying himself off and stretching his arms over his head, aware of slight friction against his front. “Baby?”

Bucky clearly wanted Sam off the bike, but as Sam opted to move, Bucky’s hand reached back and stopped him. 

“Oh,” Sam went, taking the helmet off, “There’s always an agenda.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked slightly, rubbing Sam again, much more intentionally, and Sam rolled his eyes as if it didn’t send something hot and electric running through him. The ride was just the right amount of constant vibration to warm him up.

“Mmm, you know what-” Sam mumbled as Bucky pushed off the ground and carefully unfolded his devious long legs off the bike. Sam was free to rise himself, now, but he didn’t know what Bucky was up to. 

“Turn around,” Bucky mumbled, and Sam allowed Bucky to rotate him on the bike until he was facing the back. Then Bucky sat on it in front of him and slid his hips forward against Sam’s.

Sam felt a jolt of heat as Bucky aligned with him, forcing his arms to fall around Bucky’s shoulders. “You’re kidding, baby,” he moaned, jeans feeling very tight.

Bucky finally had access to his lips, and he kissed Sam fervently, sucking and kissing with sounds that would have been obscene let anyone else be around them.

“Didn’t realize it’d be so hot with you riding behind me,” he whispered in a rough voice, taking his jacket off.

Sam moaned in his mouth, wanting to protest, but a greater part of him very much liked where this was going. “Now I’m riding in front of you,” he shot back between kisses, moving on top of Bucky’s lap as they grinded, “Oh- baby.”

Bucky’s hands clasped Sam’s ass tightly, and Sam didn’t know what they were doing. Would they have sex on this bike? Make out and grind to completion? That was an option, and it felt amazing, but Bucky took it a step further, pushing Sam back and then lifting his shirt. Sam sighed as Bucky tasted his nipple, sucking like a man with a purpose, adding fuel to the fire.

Sam whispered before he could think, “I want you to fuck me on this bike.”

Bucky paused and swallowed. “Shit, I was working up to pitching the idea.”

Sam quieted, too, a groan leaving him. Come on, Wilson, falling right for it! “Actually, never mind, we’re in public! We could get a damn motel.”

Bucky scoffed, unbuttoning his pants, and freeing his erection. “Fuck that. No one’s out here, and I want it, you want. This could be a cross-off on the Bucky Sex List.”

Sam jolted, watching with wide eyes as Bucky unbuckled his belt. “No way, you made that damn list?”

Bucky merely grunted, pulling Sam’s pants leg and underwear down over one thigh before he’d freed them, and Sam felt embarrassed by this predicament but also painfully hard.

Sigh. “You have lube?”

Bucky smiled, digging into his jacket pocket and retrieving a healthy packet. Then he positioned Sam so that he could keep his legs around Bucky’s waist, bending forward. 

“We’re probably gonna break something,” Sam mumbled, closing his eyes halfway as Bucky worked him. He was mostly the one laying on the bike while Bucky hovered over it to get a good grip, fingers probing Sam. “Bucky-” 

“Relax for me, doll,” Bucky said in a husky voice, eyes dark, light over his head, “I’ve got you.”

Sam, to some miracle, managed to relax, even moan as he clutched Bucky’s shoulders. He leaned back too far, and the bike wiggled, making Bucky’s fingers slip in deeper.

“Fuck,” Sam hissed sharply, pleading with himself not to come immediately from that.

“Sorry, you okay?” Bucky planted his feet firmly, keeping them upright.

Sam only moaned, moving his hips with the little space there was to urge Bucky on, having felt fully stimulated now and very much needing more. Thoughts of someone seeing them in the dark, or a sudden light being shined were pushed away, and Bucky pumped himself with a hand as Sam waited, hearing his own pants.

“Gonna come in,” Bucky growled in Sam’s ear, and Sam could only groan in response as he felt the slow, delicious stretch of Bucky’s cock entering him.

“Oh God,” Sam tightened from stimulation alone, and he felt Bucky shudder and shift, managing to push deeper. “Bucky, I can’t-”

Bucky groaned in his ear, managing another sloppy thrust. “Shit, me either-” Another shiver left him, and Sam felt sporadic thrusts and saw the scrunch of Bucky’s face before the beginning of an orgasm touched him. This wasn’t going to be marathon sex, but it was the short burst of lust that Sam craved. “Fuck, Sam, I’m gonna come.”

“Me, too,” Sam whispered, feeling his legs shift up as Bucky fucked him a little faster, quickly hitting the point of no return that released a stuttered shout from Sam. 

Bucky’s jaw was agape as Sam’s head fell back, sparks erupting throughout him, quick and sensual, running from his spine to the toes of his leg where his pants hung off. Bucky joined him, groaning deeply as he convulsed inside of Sam, voice breaking a little as the oversensitivity danced between them, filling Sam.

Sam’s thighs were shaking as he struggled to catch his breath, clinging to Bucky like the ground would open up underneath him. Bucky managed to keep them upright as he came down from the high, eyes closing halfway. 

“Gotta pull out,” he finally whispered, throat hoarse, and Sam agreed, but neither of them was ready to move. “If I can.”

Sam swallowed. “You’re not… stuck, right?”

Bucky groaned slightly as he leaned against Sam. “No, but my fucking legs need a minute.”

Sam gaped in horror, “Bucky Barnes, you’d better not drop us!”

Bucky laughed, the motorcycle creaking under them. “I won’t, I won’t.” After a moment, he slowly pulled out of Sam, a sigh on his face as he reached over and tried to get Sam’s pants back on him. The effort was sloppy, and Sam had to stand up so Bucky could fasten him, which proved near impossible after his orgasm. He settled with leaning against Bucky’s warm chest, feeling hands adjust their clothes.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured as he finally got Sam on the bike again. “Love you, too.”

Sam smiled. “I know. You can show me some more when we get home.”

Bucky’s eyes lit, immediately jumping on the bike and starting it up. “You bet your ass I will.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle, hugging him again, knowing what he was signing up for. Yet it wasn’t enough to only be intimate in a damn forest. He wanted to wash the outside off and love on Bucky properly, roll in the bed together in their room in their home together. It could never be enough, Sam would always accept all of Bucky.

***

Notes:

I hope y'all realize shit is about to hit the ceiling 👀 2 chaps left...

Chapter 21: Soon

Summary:

Sam receives unfavorable news. The fateful mission approaches

note: angst

Notes:

ty for your patience, y'all. this chapter kicked my behind 💀 bc I wanted to cram so muchhhh. Instead, I said F it, I'm adding an extra chapter

Maria got back to them with her results and Redwing projected a meeting through a screen hologram. Sam sat at the Wilson family table with Gideon on his left and Bucky on his right. Sarah was at work; the boys were at school.

There was static feedback as their secure line stabilized, and finally, she appeared in a box. The other boxes were Rhodes, who held a PR face, and Bruce who was in the lab tinkering, his end muted. Some things didn’t change.

“I’ll keep it short and to the point,” Maria said, bun slicked back smoothly. “The news isn’t good.”

Sam nodded, but his toes tightened in his sneakers. He had prepared himself to hear anything but that always worked better in theory, and when you received good news. Bucky held his expression, and Sam appreciated it. 

Gideon merely raised a brow. 

Before Maria continued, Rhodes interrupted, “I did try my best, Sam, Gideon.”

Sam didn’t respond, watching Maria roll her eyes. “Fine, Colonel, you explain.”

Rhodes exhaled through his nose, eyes taking on that sad shape that politicians usually used. It was different with Avengers, they tended to mean it. Rhodey was an Avenger, too, but he toed the line in between and Sam wanted to say it was alright, say I know you tried, but bitterness filled him along with a muted sadness. The words went through him like a commercial playing in the background.

“...There’s too much evidence to prove all members weren’t acting as a team…”

“…Even if they were in separate locations…”

“…Given that the military hadn’t held Ryker accountable…”

It sounded like the endless hum of bureaucracy. 

Today, Rhodey was playing one of the men behind a desk that Sam couldn’t smile at or shake hands with honestly. Whether he really did try or not, it didn’t change the outcome, and regardless of who had told him, Sam knew in the back of his mind that their kind of people were rarely given exceptions. 

Was it fair to reduce it to that kind of issue? Maybe. Maybe not. Yet racism always lingered in the part of his mind that understood the intrinsic fact that life was unfair. When it wasn’t the main course, it was the cherry on top. If it wasn’t a slap in the face, it was an ache in his shoulders.

Rhodey would know that. Rhodey would want to soften the blow, give it to them straight like a man. Make it meaningful. Sam didn’t know how Maria would’ve said it - probably like any other deliverance. Like another mission, another task to handle. Isn't that all the case began as?

Sam couldn’t feel anything as Bucky snapped, “That sounds like a bunch of pig shit,” arguing with Rhodey and Maria, calling them spineless and other outdated insults, albeit making good points. Bucky suggested how they should barter for time, looking ready to march into some classified military meeting right now. Sam felt Bucky and Gideon’s eyes flicker from him to the screen, but he watched all of them sitting at the table from some view outside of it all.

“We have to get Gideon out of the country,” he said calmly when the meeting quieted.

They all paused, faces unsettled. 

“It’s the only way to buy time until we can convince them-”

“Sam,” Rhodey sighed, brows scrunched, “Another Wilson on the run won’t look good.”

Maria hummed, crossing her arms. “He’s more useful to us alive than in a cell. I’d bet more on our odds than the government’s.”

Bucky was hesitant, looking at Sam.

“No.” Gideon shook his head, earning all of their eyes. “I’ve been a faithful servant, and He will decide whatever may come.”

Sam’s jaw tightened as more arguing erupted around the table, surprised when even Bruce had an opinion, but it all faded into noise once more.

When the meeting was over, Sam excused himself, getting up to go outside and breathe. Bucky didn’t follow, and he felt grateful. He didn’t know if he’d be able to take a soft-eyed You good? right now. Sam didn’t have any answers, and he could only wander with his mind, his feet taking him far from the house. 

The walk didn’t feel long, but he’d reached the pier when he realized that the boat was staring back at him, shining like the smiles of Paul and Darlene. What do I do? he asked them, wishing to God they would answer, wishing they hadn’t left him without being able to understand why nothing he did ever stopped the world from being… fucked.

Before he knew it, his phone was open and Dr. Jackson’s line was ringing. Her face appeared, hair in a new style, but she had the same glasses and dimples.

“Hello, Sam,” Kim said warmly, “I wasn’t expecting a call.”

Sam blinked, feeling like her office usually looked brighter. “Sorry, I think I accidentally-”

“That’s okay,” she insisted, head tilting as if she could see the details around him through the box, “You have good timing, I had a cancellation.”

Scoff.  

Good timing.

Sam shook his head. “I wish.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, I- I don’t want to waste your-”

“Where are you if you don’t mind me asking?”

Sam blinked, looking around. For a moment, he couldn’t answer, and then his eyes were on his parents’ boat again. He sighed. “Um, boat-” he focused, trying again, “At the dock with my parents’ boat. The Paul and Darlene.”

She raised a brow, lips pursed. “Sam.”

“I am! Look!” he flipped the phone around so that she could see it, and then he turned it face to face again. “Pretty beyond her years.”

Kim chuckled. “Fine, I do believe you, you’re just not dressed for that.”

“I-” Sam paused, looking down at his bare arms. He was shivering. When had it- No, it was always chilly by the water. “Shit- Yeah.”

Her face softened. “How long have you been out there?”

The question should have been easy. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” she asked, “After you get a jacket?”

Sam tried to smile and it was a sigh. “It’s just- Things are a lot.”

“I’m sure. Maybe you should go somewhere comfortable first.”

Sam hesitated, feeling the chill now. He was a little numb up to his biceps. “I can’t really deal with people right now. There’s shops nearby - uh, my sister’s restaurant.”

Kim smiled. “That’s good. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.”

“Maybe.”

She looked at him, and Sam felt guilty for not being able to say much else. Everything felt like fuzz, and she sat with him as he tried to remember what he was thinking, what he wanted to do. Nothing really appeared. He felt like the waves of the sea; wet and moving, but not really going anywhere.

“Sam?” a voice yelled, making him break his trance.

Sam turned over his shoulder, raising both eyes as Sarah waved from the dock, looking at him silly. Shit, he’d been gone too long.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?” Sarah asked crossly, making him feel kind of ridiculous as she marched closer.

“I have to go,” he said to Kim, not missing the concern in her eyes. He explained, “My sister’s talking to me- Sarah. Can I call you back?” Once she affirmed him, he hung up, meeting the spirited energy of Sarah.

“Hey,” he offered.

Sarah was dressed for the occasion, wearing jeans and a warm jacket. “Hey? Sam, you look crazy sitting out here in a damn T-shirt. It’s cloudy!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks, I thought I look pretty good.”

Sarah looked him up and down. “I’m gonna get a jacket. Stay here or I’m gonna fight you.”

Sam rolled his eyes, watching the boat and the sun peek out from the clouds. She came back and tossed a coat at his back. It was still warm. “Thanks,” he mumbled, putting it on.

“Now you wanna tell me what the hell you’re doing out here?” she said, sitting down as a scarf was draped messily around his shoulders. Sarah moved closer, rubbing his shoulders and adjusting the scarf. “Seriously, you’re like frozen.”

“I’m just thinking, Rah.” That was partially true. 

She looked forward, trying to see what he could, eyes landing on the boat. “You miss them?”

“How couldn’t I? Dad loved this boat, loved working on it… him and Gid.”

Sarah leaned back against him. “Yeah, well you loved the boat, too. It was you that fixed it up, Sam, kept me from throwing away this important thing.”

“I don’t think Gid sees it that way.”

“Well, sometimes he can’t see a lot of things because he’s the oldest. Feels like he’s got to be the second man or something, like he’s filling in for dad… I don’t understand why y’all gotta be so proud, Sam.” Her face tightened as he turned to look at her. “Leaving everybody else out.”

Sam softened as he met her angry eyes. “He told you.”

Sarah only laughed, shaking her head. “You’re both idiots. I knew something was up, Sam, it’s my intuition, but why do I have to be let in only when shit hits the ceiling? Y’all are tied up in all this superhero stuff and I’m supposed to act like you hurting is okay?”

Sam felt a lump in his throat as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Rah. I should have- I wanted-” I don’t know.

She wiped her eyes as he tucked her forehead into his shoulder. Sarah was the last person he would want to hurt with the craziness they’d been through… 

I should have told her.  

“We promised TT we’d take care of each other,” she said quietly, “Y’all stupid old men must have forgotten.”

Sam sighed, wondering what TT would think seeing him right now. She’d pop him over the head with a rolling pin, telling him to fix it, and apologize to each other. He smiled bittersweet, wishing she was here, too. TT couldn’t stand boating and anything that was fishy, but she loved Sam even before he knew he needed it.

“Rah, I told her I was gay.”

Sarah blinked in surprise. “TT?”

“Mom,” he muttered.

“Oh.” Sarah swallowed, eyes drifting over the water. “I didn’t know. How- how did she- you know-”

His eyes followed the waves. “How do you think? She told me I wasn’t. Went on about how some cousin thought he was, too, but it wasn’t real… I pretended to believe her… I was scared to stand up for myself.”

Sarah tightened. “Mom loved you.”

“I know,” he hissed back, “I have no doubt. Times were just… different. I think she was scared for me, too.”

“Times were different,” she agreed. “I don’t care, Sam. Bucky is so damn rooted in this family now that you’d better not be trying to do takebacks. I swear-“ She hit him.

“I’m not! Ow!” Sam exclaimed, rubbing his arm. “You are so mean. I should have done your cornrows crooked-” She hit him again. “Ow!”

“The man moved you in, Sam! Ain’t no man doing that who ain’t serious about you,” she snapped, pushing his shoulder.

“Sarah, we’re both men, don’t make it all- man and woman- ugh-” He made a disgusted face.

“Sam.” Sarah glared at him. “You’re the one for Bucky.”

Sam quieted, unable to deny that as his heart pounded. What he had made him a lucky man, and there were people who couldn’t dream of just being with the person they love.

“I know,” he admitted, swallowing down the sorrow, “I wish TT could’ve met him.”

Sarah smirked. “If Dot had anything to say about it, TT would’ve been damn proud.”

~*~

Eventually, Sarah had to go back to her shift. Sam decided to stay by the pier, better dressed for it now. After he followed up with his therapist, he watched the waves and the glowing sun over the water. 

When he did get up, he walked past the restaurant, seeing a friendly smile.

“Carlos,” Sam greeted, accepting a warm clap on the shoulder, and then Sam grimaced, “Please don’t tell me you’re stocking all this alone.”

“He sure is,” Sarah said with a glare as she held her keys and purse. “I’ve gotta get the boys from their after-school program. That stupid bus broke down again. You’d think someone in this damn town could fix it right.”

Sam only chuckled, remembering the same adventures in his own youth. He turned back to Carlos, eyes serious. “I’m gonna lift all these.”

Carlos gave a proud sigh, allowing Sam to help him carry the boxes into the restaurant, finding a place for the half that needed to be frozen. There were scribbles on the shelves that looked like Bucky’s handwriting, and Sam chuckled to himself, finger brushing over the neat letters. He’d almost forgotten the time Bucky insisted on re-sorting the stock room for Sarah. Their lives really were intertwined. 

“Thank you, young man,” Carlos said once they’d finished, a smile on his face, “You know, you look just like your old man from the back.”

“Simply lifting boxes?” Sam smirked.

Carlos scoffed. “Got your mama’s slick tongue, though.” He tipped back his beer. “I mean the way you’re good. Paul was a good man.”

Sam tried to smile. “I’m not exactly the same kind of man, Carlos. I’m- You know-”

Carlos hummed. “I suppose that’s true, but everyone’s used to it.” His brows twitched. “Huh, that Bucky doesn’t know how to fix a bus engine, does he?”

Sam sighed, knowing Bucky would be ecstatic to try even if he didn’t know. “I’ll have to ask.”

Carlos thought over the words, taking another drink before he nodded. “He’d be proud, Sam. I knew for sure that Paul wanted his kids happy - didn’t want y’all to miss out on nothing in this life.”

Sam finally smiled, taken aback by the emotion. “Thanks, Carlos.”

~*~

Bzz.

“Sam?”

“Hey, baby,” Sam said softly, holding his phone as he walked, “I didn’t mean to ghost.”

Bucky’s sigh came through. “It’s okay… You need the space, that’s okay.”

Sam smiled. “I can’t wait to get home, though. Let’s cook something and plan stuff out. Sound good?” 

No response.

“Baby?” Sam took the phone off his face, seeing a dark screen. Ugh. Of course, he’d gone out on probably half-charge. The walk home would be more than a mile - I should’ve hitched a ride with Sarah. Seriously, why did his overheated brain not come with Bucky defaults?

Closer to him was Tonya’s bar, the light flickering down the road. That would be a five-minute walk, and at least, he could charge his phone and call Bucky back. He decided on that plan, heading to the bar, unzipping his jacket for air.

Sam entered, giving a polite nod to folks in the small saloon. It was mostly empty save for a few stragglers and a group drinking at the back. The bar was empty, though, and Sam trailed to it, sliding into a seat.

“Well, I’ll be,” Tonya said, smiling over her shoulder. She was shorter than Sarah, but she had a similar fire to her and a great pixie cut. 

“What’d I do to get the captain visiting? Beer?” She raised a tap.

Sam chuckled. “I’m passing through. Mind if I borrow a charger?”

Tonya pursed her lips. “That ain’t gon’ charge quick, Mr. America. I’ll get you a soda or something.” He thanked her, plugging in his phone. The battery icon beeped weakly as he started on ginger ale and some peanuts, thanking her again.

There were shouts behind him, and he raised a brow. Tonya sighed, rolling her eyes, voice lower, “Bunch of fellas from out of town. Wish they’d finish and be on their way. They’re disturbing the regulars.”

Sam raised a brow. “Need me to say something? It’s a bit early to disturb the peace.” 

She huffed. “They’re almost done eating.”

He nodded but glanced back to be sure. There were three men that looked younger than him but certainly old enough to have some sense.

Bzzz.

Sam picked up his phone. “Sorry, Buck, my phone died.”

Bucky outright exhaled. “Jesus, Sam, I thought a freaking alligator got you or something.”

Sam chuckled, leaning on a fist and smiling. “No, I’m at Tonya’s. Gonna get a charge and head back-”

More laughs and rude jeers interrupted him.

“Tonya’s… Zoo?”

“Bar.” Sam rolled his eyes as Tonya visibly seethed, face in a tight smile. “Sorry, there’s some knuckleheads making ruckus, I’m gonna-”

Sam felt the cord pull out of the wall before he could curse. His reflection glared back at him as the battery died again. With a sigh, he plugged it up for the second time, not waiting at the sound of glass breaking.

“I’m gonna talk to them,” Sam said, trailing to the back where the group sat, clearly drunk, one of them staring goofily at the dropped carafe as they argued back and forth. They definitely weren’t from in town, but it wasn’t unusual for a bar on the side of the road to attract folks traveling through. The downside was that not everyone had home training. Clearly.

“Good evening, fellas,” Sam eyed all of them, “You’re gonna have to wrap it up. Owner’s closing early tonight.”

“Come on,” the drunkest one said with a smile, “We’re just having a good time.”

“Look, we’re paying. Our money not as good as the next?” another asked, hair combed over with a conceited amount of grease. “These glasses are like a dime a dozen, right?”

“I’ll only ask again,” Sam said firmly.

The third one laughed, Four-eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we are. Of course, we’re gonna listen to Captain America and go on our way. Unless you want to arrest us or something.”

Sam raised a brow. “No need for that, you’re reasonable men.”

The man only glared back, realizing the rest of the bar had turned to glance at them, unfriendly looks, and suddenly they were less rowdy. Sam trailed back to the bar, finishing his soda as Tonya cleaned glasses and watched them slowly pack up, grumbling to each other.

“Seriously,” the drunkest had the nerve to ask as he struggled to stand, “How’s America’s fairy gonna tell us to leave-” he put a hand over his mouth, looking sick.

“Bathroom’s closed,” Tonya added, looking a little disgusted as Four-eyes and Comb-over helped him outside. Then, it was quieter, and Sam helped her to clean up the table, sweeping bits of glass into the trash can. “Thanks, Sam,” she said with a sigh. “It’s like there’s always a couple of idiots. Don’t know who’s raising folks.”

“No problem. It’s not usually bad, right?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Tonya laughed. “Nothing a damn superhero needs to be worried about. Go on ahead home, I’ve got help closing up.”

Sam smiled, telling everyone to have a good night before he trailed out. It was darker now. Maybe he could get in some exercise jogging back?

Scritch-scritch.

Sam’s eyes drifted to the scrapes of sneakers against asphalt, seeing one of the rowdy men push off of a car. The drunkest was bent over a pile of grass, letting out everything he’d eaten, but the other two had a bit less alcohol in them, just enough to be stupid.

Sam exhaled, reading their aggressive postures. This kind of mess he’d left in his twenties or thirties, but idiots clearly existed in every age.

“Hey, Captain-” Four-eyes shouted, and Sam ignored him, walking in the opposite direction. 

“Don’t you hear us talking to you?!”

They followed, and Sam weighed his options. 

Option 1. Go back inside, have the police called, but he didn’t want to inconvenience Tonya any further. There could be damage to property. The folks inside deserved to have a good rest of their night. 

Option 2. Mediate and convince them to head on their way, or to a motel, whatever. One of them looked sober enough to drive, asshole with the comb-over.

“Why don’t y’all go on ahead home?” Sam suggested, “There’s no need to make trouble.”

Comb-over smirked. “Look at how he’s talking to us. You alone, Cap? I don’t see any Avengers out here.”

Sigh.  

Option 3. Do something Bucky might.

Sam obliged the fight as the two men squared on him, heart pumping as he swiped the leg of one easily, watching him curse and spit on the gravel as the other took a few swings. They weren’t bad swings, honestly. “Your shoulder’s too high,” Sam said, blocking him and pushing him back, “I’m serious, go home or I’ll call the police.”

That might’ve been a smarter option than fighting.

~*~

Idiots might not know when to quit, but cowards hated fair odds. Sam saw the lights of the Cadillac pull up, enough to distract him as a fist brushed his mouth. Admittedly, that kind of pissed Sam off, and he shoved Comb-over into the hood of their car before glaring.

Bucky - Bucky? - hopped out of the passenger seat, face seething. “Seriously?” he shouted, and Sam felt sudden guilt and a bit of shame. 

“Buck, I didn’t mean-”

Sam realized Bucky wasn’t talking to him as he marched to the car and ripped the passenger door clean off.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of Here,” he growled, and the men looked a mixture of stunned, surprised, and ready to piss themselves.

Sam moved out of their way as they scrambled into the car and started up the engine, taking their trashed friend with them as the car lurched forward with one door missing.

“I was handling it, Buck-”

Bucky grabbed Sam, pulling him into a hug. Sam’s shoulders lowered, holding him back tightly. “Answer your phone, sweetheart.”

Sam nodded, feeling Bucky break away and inspect him, frowning at the cut on Sam’s lip. It was the only hit that landed, really, a lucky one. 

“Actually, I’m murdering them,” Bucky decided.

Sam pulled his arm. “I’m okay, Buck, really,” he pleaded, “I promise.”

“We need to call the police,” Gideon growled.

Sam didn’t miss the fact that he’d been driving. It was - admittedly - not the first thing he wanted to focus on because then additional questions would arise like - why were they in the same car? And, how were they in the same car? Without killing each other, especially.

Bucky disagreed. “And let them get off with fucking with Sam? They’re on borrowed time.”

“Again, I’m fine,” Sam insisted, “I should tell Tonya what happened. It is her bar.” He sighed. “We can file a report. I remember the license plate.”

They both glared at each other, but a silent agreement allowed them to enter the bar, earning a look of surprise from Tonya. Sam thought he looked the same, frankly, save for a cut lip, but it seemed to be the end of the world to everyone else.

Bucky sat him down, opening a first aid kit and applying ointment carefully. Sam accepted it, mumbling the details he remembered as Bucky grumbled for him to keep still. His fingers were gentle, though, and once he applied a tiny bandage, he pressed his forehead to Sam’s, a hand on the side of Sam’s neck.

Sam smiled a little, stopping when Tonya glanced over, realizing… he’d technically never come out to her. In fact, there were a lot of people he didn’t exactly inform of his and Bucky’s relationship officially.

She smirked, a knowing look on her face. “Don’t stop on my account, lovebirds.”

Oh.

Sam’s eyes deadpanned. This was Sarah’s best friend.

Is nothing sacred? 

Jeez.

“We should go,” Sam said, cheeks flushed. 

Gideon agreed, and they walked back to the Cadillac. 

Sam had to finally ask, “Is there a reason you both had to come?”

Bucky didn’t look happy as he slid into the backseat. He had offered to walk, but Sam had rolled his eyes and told him to get in. 

A mutter returned, “Went to get the truck, Sarah asked why- so- then he inserted himself.”

Sam smiled at Bucky in the passenger mirror. “Well, I appreciate it.”

Gideon glared as he turned out of the parking lot. “There a reason you didn’t think to outrun a couple of piss-drunk idiots?”

Sam looked out of the window, not meeting Bucky’s curious glance either as the trees blurred past. The car was more comfortable than it looked. It smelled like cigars.

Gideon’s quiet hum met him. “You thought you deserved it.”

Bucky’s brows knit.

Sam countered, “I weighed how to handle it. Didn’t want anyone dragged in, least of all the women in the bar minding their business,” and crossed his arms.

“You don’t.”

Sam scoffed, hating the patronizing look, especially from Gid. “Not even for being gay?” he tested, hating that he took the conversation there himself.

“No,” met him quietly.

~*~

Bucky took off his jacket as Sam stormed inside, kicking his shoes to the side despite his efforts to keep their shoes lined up. He felt hands pulling off his jacket for him, and Bucky lined the shoes up again.

“I don’t want to explain today,” Sam mumbled when he looked back.

“Fine,” Bucky said simply, approaching and leaning in, stopping halfway. Sam sighed, finishing the kiss. “We mainly discussed some routes of action when you were gone, a bunch of stupid ideas that no one agreed on.”

“I should’ve stayed.”

Bucky smiled. “And miss your extra-long lunch break?

Sam huffed. “You’re almost as mean as Sarah.”

“Says the guy wearing my best friend’s jacket,” Bucky murmured in his ear, earning a look of shock. “It smells like the book club.”

“You’re in trouble,” Sam said, pushing away from him to wash his hands. “Don’t expect dinner tonight with your evil handsome face.”

Bucky chuckled, smothering Sam at the sink and planting more smooches in his neck. “I’ve got a whole meal right here.” 

Sam laughed, pushing Bucky but he wouldn’t budge, just holding Sam tight and kissing him.

~*~

Bz.

“Sam.”

Bzz.

“Sweetie.”

Bzzz.

Sam rolled over, reaching across Bucky’s chest for his phone. The effort amounted to him swinging his wrist tiredly and mushing Bucky’s chin. “Mmm?”

Bucky sighed, clicking on his arm and turning on the lamp. “Sure, I’ll get it.”

“Who is it?” Sam mumbled. It was the middle of the night and he was busy dreaming about garden shopping and other oddly domestic things. Hell, he was just about to decide between fern or lavender for the walkway - the one they didn’t have yet.

“Bruce.”

That snapped Sam out of his trance, hearing the accompanying eerily calm voice of the doctor. “Fuck, what is it-” Mission. Corps. Shit. Sam’s eyes opened, and he pushed himself upright, blinking away the sleep.

“Sam or Bucky?” 

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Bucky returned tiredly.

“In the middle of the damn night,” Sam added, leaning on Bucky’s cool shoulder.

“It’s urgent,” Bruce said, “The soldiers are on the move. I think they’re planning something.”

Sam swallowed. “How do we know?” He reached for his wristlet on the nightstand, waking up Redwing. The suitcase glowed from the corner.

Bruce sighed on the line. “Something didn’t feel right to me. I looked over the graph your falcon protege created, and once I went over it with Hulk, we realized the location is near an old laboratory of mine.”

Sam blinked, tracing over the conversation with Gideon. “They said they have the Hulk, do you think- that’s your?” he motioned, even though Bruce couldn’t see him.

“Technology, yes,” Bruce answered, and Sam could almost see him nod. “In the wrong hands, it could be devastating.”

“Well, shit,” Sam groaned, rolling out of bed to find his gear. Bucky got up as well, looking as eager as Sam was to leave what was sleeping bliss to suddenly go fighting for their lives.

Sam’s eyes were barely open, but he pulled on what he could, seeing Bucky pause and glare at the phone. “Bruce, why isn’t Maria telling us this?”

Bruce was silent at first, and Sam started to feel awake with the adrenaline rush of a secret emergency. “There are devices in that lab that… might be able to enhance their power.”

Bucky almost dropped the phone.

“W-what!?” Sam shot. “Why didn’t you tell us this crucial information, Bruce! Redwing, Project mode. Answer the damn call, Bruce-”

They pulled on the rest of their layers as Redwing cast a hologram on the screen, revealing his face with all of the sorriness Sam expected. 

“I didn’t know. Sam, it’s one of those things that the other guy knows.” Bruce pointed to his head.

“English, Bruce,” Bucky growled, opening their weapon closet.

“Me and the green guy weren’t always in sync. Sometimes instead of him being asleep, I was. But, it comes back to me in pieces. That lab has the technology to turn them back if it still works.”

Sam hesitated. “What’s the catch?”

Bucky guessed, “It could make more of them.”

“Yes.”

Sam took a breath, rubbing his brow. Bruce was trying to help them. He wouldn’t tell them this for no reason. “Let Maria know… in five hours.”

Bucky was geared up, looking to Sam for a prompt.

“We’ve got to wake Gideon.”

~*~

When Sam found him, Gideon was already awake and walking out his front door to his Cadillac. Sam hopped off the back of Bucky’s bike, marching to him and grabbing his collar. “Now where the hell are you going without so much as a peep?”

Gideon pushed his hand away, looking displeased. “Go home, brother. Take off that costume.”

“Says the guy suited up for war,” Sam snapped as Bucky sat doing his stare. “You headed to Texas, right? Little gamma road trip?” 

Gideon tightened.

“We know the corps are after a laboratory, and we’re coming with. We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Sam said simply, crossing his arms.

Scoff. “All these years and you’re damn stubborn, Samuel.”

Bucky honked the motorcycle horn.

Gideon rolled his eyes, growling.

~*~

Sam wound up sitting in the passenger seat of the Cadillac as they drove down the freeway. He’d been comparing notes with Bruce and a surprisingly-wide-awake Joaquin to keep himself awake. Seriously, that kid ran on the good stuff. It scared Sam a little as Joaquin cracked jokes as if it was 5PM and not before dawn. The sky was still dark.

Otherwise, the car was quiet, and the road was mostly clear save for the rare racing car and the outline of Bucky on his motorcycle. Sam kept a text-to-voice AI line with him when he was silent, and Sam watched his hair whip in the wind.

He smiled, texting his Redwing app: you should grow your hair out baby

A response.

>> Keep looking, doll.

Gideon raised a brow as Sam chuckled. “Something funny about this car?”

Sam scoffed. “I’m texting Bucky. Everything ain’t about you.”

“While he’s on a motorcycle? You’re losing it, Sam.” Gideon shook his head, rolling down the window to light a cigar.

“It’s a test AI Joaquin wrote up,” Sam didn’t know why he bothered to explain, “Delivers my texts to his helmet, and if he replies, it’s translated to words.”

>> Sure would be nice if you rode on back, sweetheart

Sam rolled his eyes, replying: you’re dirty, buck

>> You like it

Sam laughed again and Gideon exhaled, holding the wheel tighter. “At least be quiet.”

At some point, Sam did, falling into a short nap - secretly, the real reason he dared to finagle his way into the car. When he opened his eyes, they’d stopped on the side of the road. Sam checked his phone, yawning, peeking his head out the window.

“What’s up? We’re an hour out.” 

Bucky leaned against his bike, arms crossed as Sam stumbled out, cracks of dawn hitting him. “We should split up from here. Want them to think it’s a normal meeting.”

Sam hummed as Gideon smoked, looking bothered with the entire premise of not taking on everything on his own. “That’s true,” Sam mumbled, mimicking Bucky’s posture. “Bruce give us anything?”

“A map of the facility,” Bucky said, motioning to Redwing. “It’s old, might not be a perfect match.”

Sam checked his log and saw that such a map had been uploaded. Redwing projected between them, and Sam sighed. “Of course, it’s underground.” It showed an abandoned warehouse - figured - but underneath was a group of rooms with tunnels leading in different directions. Escape routes? That wouldn’t be good.

“Bruce thinks the device or something is at the back. Doesn’t know if there’s a security system running or not.”

Sam hummed, pushing out of his lean to pace. “Joaquin will have to look into that. Gideon, you’ll rendezvous with them as normal. Maybe me and Bucky can sneak in through one of these tunnels. If there’s some special device, we have to get it to safety.”

“Maria should be looped in soon,” Bucky muttered, checking his watch, “We’ll have back-up one way or another - whether that’s a French ship or medical to carry us out cold.”

Sam grimaced, glad he hadn’t eaten. “Buck, come on, be civilized.”

Bucky shrugged.

Soon, they were back on the road, Sam sitting firmly behind Bucky who sped down the freeway like it wasn’t the crack of dawn. “Babe, come on!” Sam shouted over his shoulder, laughing, “Slow down!”

Bucky didn’t, and Sam could almost see his smirk, fully awake now with the wind whipping over their jackets. They almost matched in their dark gear, but Sam stilled himself as they veered off onto a dirt road different than Gideon’s path. 

This is it, his brain told him, blood pumping through his veins. This is really it.

***

Notes:

😭 lmao I don't mean to keep milking it, but I promise Ch 22 is that the gamma BS that we've been approaching for A LONG af time now. 😅 I want it to be perfect aaaa.

Chapter 22: Green

Summary:

Sam and Bucky confront the gamma corp with unlikely allies.

Notes:

A long one!

“Comms?” Sam asked, adjusting his straps. 

Bucky inspected his weapons as they waited in a secluded grove of trees, the bike next to them. The wings were strapped to Sam’s back, and he felt aware that now was the time when families might be making breakfast and waking their kids up. Cass and AJ were probably getting ready for school.

Shhh. Kshh.

*“Sorry about that,”* Joaquin’s voice came in,* “Weird interference in this area. I’m getting energy ratings from inside the building, too. It’s faint, but-”*

Sam could also tell that from Redwing’s feed, but he didn’t want to send the little guy closer in daylight. The facility was essentially an abandoned building on the outside, but there was an elevator inside that went down according to their outdated blueprints.

“Bruce says the device should still work,” Sam told Bucky, but he didn’t uncross his arms, eyeing the field through his goggles. Sure, Gideon got out safe last time, but Prodigy’s suspicion made Sam uncomfortable.

“It will,” Bucky assured him. He stopped fumbling with his gear and then his hands were on Sam’s shoulders. “We’re gonna get in, get out, then let the grunts handle clean-up.”

Sam smiled, rolling his eyes. “Cause it’s always that easy.”

*“Boo-yah! Found a way in. Two actually,”* Joaquin quipped, again, sounding too energetic to not be made of fluff and sunshine. 

“Well? Spill it,” Bucky shot back, earning a chuckle.

*“First, there’s a sewage drain leading to the coast-”*

“Hell no.”

“Not doing that again.”

Joaquin sighed. *“Fine, the other route is some kind of tunnel, but, it might be sealed off-”*

“Let’s take that one,” Bucky interrupted, “Bust our way through.”

Sam reluctantly agreed, checking the coordinates on his wristlet before they were on the bike again, riding slowly through the dirt for a half-mile.

*“Gideon’s arriving at the building,”* Joaquin said as they parked.

“Good,” Sam sighed, “Tell me if we lose a GPS on him or - anything weird happened.”

A scoff entered Sam’s ears, Gideon’s rumble. *“You might worry about your own self, brother.”*

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, talk shit when we get out of here, not before.”

“Entrance is here,” Bucky said, and Sam got off the bike, following him to a dirt-covered patch of grass with a metal circle on the ground. Some kind of floor plate. Bucky grunted, finding a grip between the caked crevices, and then he managed to pull it off with his left hand, sighing.

~*~

The smell inside the tunnel was stale like it hadn’t been opened in years. They put their masks on, and then Bucky nodded before trailing down the ladder first, leaving Sam to take a deep breath and ready himself.

Redwing lit the tunnel. It was narrow enough to fit two comfortably widthwise, but the ceiling was high.

“Joaquin?” Sam asked as they trailed inside, guns at the ready.

** “Yeah” ** “-is weak” *** “-signal-”

“Figures,” Bucky murmured, “Wouldn’t want Uncle Sam’s WIFI reaching down here.” He stopped at a fork, looking both ways. “Left.”

“Should go right,” Sam argued back. 

“Less cobwebs left.”

“Right feels better.”

Bucky scoffed. “I bet-”

Hahaaaaaaahaaa!

What sounded like a laugh echoed, making Sam’s blood crawl. “What direction was that?”

Bucky muttered through a tight jaw, “Right. Shut up.”

Sam smirked, and they followed Redwing down the hall, surprised that there were dim lights flickering on the ceiling. That meant the energy in the place was being used, possibly an inside generator, or maybe they were in more danger than they’d thought. “You don’t think they’ve got more members, right?”

“Hope not.” 

Sam could only agree, sending Joaquin a message to clue Maria in an hour earlier than intended. His gauntlet buzzed back, looking for a signal, and he sighed.

Hahahaaaaa.

The creepy laughs continued to echo, and Bucky eyed Sam, pointing to a shallow area high on the wall with metal slits, light peeking through. Before Sam could ready himself, Bucky grabbed his hips and hoisted him onto a shoulder. Sam yelped, covering his mouth.

The laughter stopped

Through the slits, he could see… Griffin, green and bird-like, sitting on a box crate and looking around. “Did you hear that?” Griffin asked. He seemed to be in some kind of supply room with tech gear and other dusty gadgets.

Prodigy was there too, and Sam squinted, seeing Prodigy focused on some tablet, beeps of a game playing, light flashing across his oversized forehead. “You’re delusional. If anyone were to use the elevator, my sensor would detect them-” A louder chime sounded, and he smiled. “Like now. Come on, we should greet the traitor.”

Griffin grumbled. “You don’t even know that. I know what I heard…” he stood, sniffing the air, “Smells like… never mind.”

Prodigy was already gone, and Griffin made a low, annoyed growl before marching out.

Sam exhaled.

Bucky lowered him. “Good thing we took the back way.”

“Yeah,” Sam mumbled, understanding that once they were in, they wouldn’t be able to hide. What other sensors were there?

They continued down the hallway, seeing another hatch on the floor, and Bucky gave him a look before breaking it open. “One way in, doll.”

Sam could see that. The hatch was just a hole in the ceiling that fell into a room that looked like some kind of security office. “Hear anything?”

Bucky poked his ear in and then shook his head. He jumped down first, and Sam heard him curse, pitying the man’s super ankles. “Come on.”

Sam lowered himself down, feet very far from the ground. Who the hell puts an escape hatch on the damn ceiling? Sam let his body drop, feeling Bucky grunt as he caught him. “I am not that heavy,” he quipped, pushing out of Bucky’s arms as he chuckled.

Redwing beeped as it glided in, making Bucky roll his eyes. Sam hummed, reading the text in his goggles. “Redwing says this room is used for communication.” It was covered in dust, but there were several screens with standby orange lights blinking, proof that some kind of generator worked somewhere. “I’ll leave the little guy behind. He can fix whatever problem Joaquin’s having.”

“Good, leave him,” Bucky muttered, peering out the door glass as Sam plugged Redwing in via a cord. “What floor are we even on?”

“Floor B,” a voice answered.

Bucky blinked, saying calmly over the feeling of his shiver, “Sam, you promised not to program him with a voice.”

Sam couldn’t respond, stunned as he stared at a green face. No, a green hologram with glowing white orbs for eyes, but Sam felt with certainty that it was looking at him. The body looked eerily like Bruce in his smart hulk form, but colder, less Bruce altogether. 

“A voice? I simply answered your question. You are in my laboratory, after all.”

Bucky drew his knife as he whipped around, even stabbing through the hologram, but Sam didn’t bother. There was no way you could attack something that was essentially… light. 

“What the hell is this?” Bucky asked, giving up the assault, but he didn’t pocket the knife.

The hologram simply glared at him. “Foolish gesture, as expected of a lower life form despite your serum. I should have dealt with the likes of you long ago.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped, looking at Sam to see if they were seeing the same shit.

Sam finally sighed. “That’s enough of that. We didn’t know this is your lab. You mind introducing yourself… Banner? Or, Banner computer?”

“Banner mobile?” Bucky offered.

Sam shrugged.

“I am Project Omega. You may refer to me as Doc Green,” the hologram answered simply, otherwise unimpressed with the two of them. “What is your purpose in this trespassing?”

Sam crossed his arms for comfort. “Well, we’re here chasing after members of a corp… they might be here to steal something that could make them more powerful, or, frankly, anything else deadly that a genius like Bruce might have made.”

At the word Bruce, Doc Green flickered slightly.

“Do you… know him? Bruce Banner?”

Doc Green grimaced, and neither Bucky nor Sam expected a blatant facial expression. That proved he was more than a simple hologram, capable of projecting emotion and understanding the receipt of it. What kind of regular AI could be that intelligent?

Sam took a step toward Redwing, checking his progress. 

“That simple machine is flawed,” Green said, turning his head to Sam, “But the additional programs you have installed are intuitive. I will answer your question. I am not Bruce Banner, and I am not Hulk, which you are also aware of being an Avenger.”

Bucky scowled. “How would you know we’re Avengers all the way down here?”

Green blinked. “Your Redwing informed me of your purpose.”

Sam swallowed, seeing Redwing’s gentle beeps. “Are you stealing information from us?”

A scoff. “No need. I am capable of using the Internet. You wish for broadband access. Your request is denied. This location must remain below radar usage.”

“Look, if you work with us-”

“So, what then?” Bucky growled. “We can’t use your shitty wifi and we can’t leave?”

Sam paused, and his eyes shifted to the door, then back to Doc Green. “You only want information, right? We’re not here to steal, we’ll deal with the corps and then be out of your hair. A win for both sides.”

“How do you intend to do that?”

Sam swallowed. “If you let us out… we’ll know that.”

Doc Green’s hologram disappeared and then reappeared behind Sam, making him jump. He motioned his head toward a computer with the screen glowing while the others went dark. There were… images of Banner, the gamma corp members, Grey’s gray body… and other Hulks? A red-hulk. Abominations. Sam’s eyes widened. It flashed by too fast for him to make sense of it.

“W-what are these?”

“Classified files. Of course, nothing is classified for an intelligent being.” And then the screen flipped to images of what Sam was sure were his own mission reports. “You are merely human. I am inclined to believe you have an 80 percent chance of failure against five super-powered individuals, but your success ratio updates my projection.”

Sam tightened his jaw, beginning to feel as offended as Bucky looked. “To what exactly?”

“Fifty percent with the aid of your supersoldier consort.”

“Excuse me?” Sam snapped.

“I assume only based on data. Heart rate monitoring. Shared bills. Public forum speculation.”

Bucky’s cheeks pinked. “Look, how we win is up to us-”

“Plus, that’s not your business,” Sam added, eager to get off the subject, “We have Gideon on our side. Our goal is to get the other four away from anything dangerous. Bruce said there might be something in this lab that can… depower them? What is that? Is that lethal?”

Doc Green blinked, and the screen stopped, the computers orange again. “If depowering is your goal, I will be able to assist.”

Sam met Bucky’s look. “Just like that? You’ll… help us?”

“Yes,” Doc Green replied, “It is my goal to remove gamma mutation from this world. The dangers to civilization and advancement are paramount.” The computer flashed again, new articles related to the Hulk and enhanced incidents. Depowerment is non-lethal but it will take a physical toll on the body.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “How… would that be done?”

“Injection through a serum.”

“W-what?” Why hadn’t they known about this? Another serum-

“Sam-” Bucky growled, bringing him back. “He could be lying. When’s the last time someone green told us the whole truth?”

Sam swallowed. “Bucky’s right. Why should we trust you?”

Doc Green’s glowing brows knit together. “I have  proof that it has worked before.”

Their eyes drifted to a computer, seeing the video of a man looking angry and… green. There were what looked like fingers coming out of his head. Some kind of super-powered being. He was in a glass, banging on it with fists. “Release me!” he shouted in a thick voice.

A body drifted toward him, a flesh duplicate of Doc Green, speaking in the same high voice. “I cannot do that, Skaar. You are afflicted with Gamma sickness, and you must be cured.”

Bucky and Sam tightened as they watched Skaar fight back and shout. He was no use against Doc Green’s strength, and there was the shining point of a needle reflecting the light before it disappeared in Skaar’s flesh. Sam felt his heart beating faster as he watched a gruesome transformation take place. “Father, please…” Skaar whispered.

Skaar had normal skin, and he lay on the ground, breathing.

Doc Green walked to the camera and turned it off.

“What the fuck was that…” Bucky whispered, “What did you do to him?”

Doc Green merely sighed. “I tire of repetition. He was administered the serum and cured of his affliction.”

“Then what?” Sam growled. “I don’t know you or what you’re capable of. Or… why you’re a hologram and not physical.”

Doc green nodded. “That as you saw was my prior form before it died. I transferred my consciousness and intelligence to the form you see now. Skaar was a scar to the planet and an exile from another world. Once cured, he was given provision to start a new life.”

Sam was quiet, digesting the information. The screen flickered, and there was the image of a man who looked similar to Skaar, smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower. Sam didn’t allow that to make him trust Doc Green, but… it was likely the serum would work.

“What do you want from us?” Sam asked. “You haven’t killed us or let us go.”

Bucky glared until Doc Green answered, “I would like you to administer the serum to the infected individuals. As for your physical limitations…”

“I’d never take a serum myself,” Sam growled, “I don’t need that.”

Doc Green blinked, and there was almost a hint of approval behind his eyes. “There is a gas that can temporarily weaken them in a room several feet from here. That is all I can offer.”

“And the serum?” Bucky asked.

“They are already in possession of it.”

Sam widened. “What!? We have to go.” He unplugged Redwing and marched to the door. It was still closed. “Let us through, Green.”

“Or I’ll just break it open,” Bucky snapped.

Doc Green flickered, and the room door slid open. “I will be watching.”

~*~

Sam and Bucky ran down the hall. “Shit,” Sam hissed, “He’s still got our comms jammed.”

“Guess he doesn’t want all the classified shit down here discovered,” Bucky muttered, “Freaking creep. Everything green just pisses me off.”

For once, Sam had to agree. Most of the lights were off or flickering, proving that the lab hadn’t been in operation for a long time. They found the specified lab room and Bucky had to manually slide the door open, the screech echoing down the hall.

Sam winced. “Couldn’t have been any louder?”

They entered and a yellow light came on. 

“The gas is packed in vials inside that freezer,” Doc Green said, sending a shiver up Sam’s spine. There was a small node by the door, projecting his voice. 

Sam passed rows of gadgets to a fridge, the only thing using power in the room. “How have you kept this thing on?”

“Make haste.”

Says the asshole who held us up. Sam rolled his eyes, picking up four vials and slipping them carefully into his pockets, and then he joined Bucky at the door.

“We’ve got company,” Bucky whispered, readying his knives.

There was a low humming and the scrape of nails on the wall, and then a head of red hair and the body of Mess, half-green and sneering at them ugly. “Drop your weapons.”

Bucky smirked, picking up another knife. “You want to say that again?”

She smirked and Sam narrowed, a hand kept on his own knife. “Drop your weapons, or we kill Gideon.” Sam widened as she laughed. 

Sam tightened and he lowered his knife, allowing it to hit the floor. “Buck-”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Bucky growled and then let his knives fall to the floor as she aimed a blaster, motioning for them to go ahead. They did, and Sam blinked an S.O.S. into his goggles, knowing Redwing got it, his metal body tucked away in the lab.

When they reached a pair of double doors at the end of the hallway, she snapped, “Go!”

Bucky swallowed, quiet enough for Sam to hear. “Hope you know what you’re doing.” And then he pushed the doors open, revealing a scene that made Sam tighten.

The laboratory was filled with technology and the lights were on. It must’ve been the only room getting real power. Along the walls were guns and other things Sam couldn’t define. It was a large space, and at its center was a cold storage container with vials. The serum.

Further troubling, Grey, Griffon, Prodigy, and Gideon were standing nonchalantly near it. As Sam and Bucky drew closer, Gideon looked at them surprised, eyes like the time Sam had looked over his shoulder in elementary school and read his poker card hand, making him lose the game with Pa and Carlos. There was no money on the line - gambling was a sin - but Gideon didn’t like to lose.

You idiot.

“Look what I found!” Mess shouted, alerting Grey’s angry eyes. “A bird and a rat.”

“Why do I have to be the rat?” Bucky grumbled, and she butted him in the back with her gun.

“Hey! Easy!” Sam hissed, and she butted him as well, earning a growl from Bucky.

If it wasn’t obvious, they were thoroughly fucked.

“We’re here to talk,” Sam said out loud, palms out. “Not fight.”

Grey’s eyes narrowed, looking like he didn't believe that for a second.

“Who knows how many more rats they’ve got on the way,” Mess said, raising her gun at Sam, “We should take them out and go.”

Prodigy’s face was an evil smile. “What of Gideon?”

Their eyes fell onto Gideon’s stoic look. Grey said without hesitation, “Kill him.”

Sam deployed his wings before Mess fired, and Bucky tackled her, dropping the gun from her hands. It fired on the ground, shooting a beam that hit the leg of the cabinet with the serum, shaking it. “No!” Grey growled, jumping to steady it as Gideon launched Prodigy across the room and deflected a blow from Griffon.

Sam ran to Gideon. 

“Our radio’s jammed!” he snapped, kicking Griffon. Grey composed himself, a loud roar escaping him before he charged at Gideon.

Gideon managed to throw his jacket to the ground and intercept Grey, but he was thrown back to his feet, grunting, “Run, idiot-”

Sam scoffed, dodging Griffon’s blows, “Shut up! You ain’t about to be some kind of crucible-”

His words were cut short as Bucky flew toward him, knocking him into Griffon. Mess crossed the room to pick up Prodigy by the scruff of his neck. Sam groaned, pushing up from the ground. “Buck- Come on-”

“She’s got a mean left hook,” he grumbled, “Sam, watch out!”

It was too late. Griffon grabbed Sam and lifted off into the air, hissing, “I should have killedssss you the firsssst time!”

Sam deployed his wings, making them fall back down, fighting Griffon again as he suddenly spit acid at Sam. It whipped past his face, hitting the cabinet and burning a hole through it.

“If that would have hit me,” Sam said, disgusted, “I might have considered not sparing you.”

Wait.

The serum!

Bucky seemed to realize his same thought, and Sam tackled Griffon. Bucky ran to the cabinet, ripping it open, and then hit by a blow from Grey.

“Mess!” Grey shouted, fighting back Bucky and Gideon at the same time with impressive coordination. Sam couldn’t clap, he was rolling against Griffon and trying to avoid his acid spit. If only he had something to plug his mouth. Sam blinked, punching Griffon and then pulling a vial from his pocket, shoving it between his sharp teeth.

“What the hell are-” Griffon chomped, and it broke, a mist bursting into the air that made the area foggy.

Sam heard Griffon and the others over the sound of coughing. Suddenly, Mess pulled Sam out of the fog and hit him, but her eyes were red and puffy and she didn’t seem as strong as she should’ve.

“Let me go!” Griffon shouted.

They all froze as the smoke cleared, eyeing Bucky who had a syringe pressed to Griffon’s neck, left arm around his shoulders. 

“One move, and he gets it,” Bucky growled.

A pen dropped, and Mess and Grey laughed, while Gideon looked at them confused. 

“Go ahead, make him more powerful.” Grey smirked.

Sam widened at Bucky. They don’t know that it’ll take away their powers.

Will it? Thank you for the information, a voice said in his mind.

Sam shouted, feeling like his head was being split open.

This time, I will kill you.

“Sam!” Bucky shouted.

Sam deployed his wings and shielded himself, dark in the cave of them as Mess hit the vibranium to no avail. The voice in his mind stopped, and he retrieved a second vial before he un-shielded, throwing it straight at Prodigy.

Prodigy caught it and scowled. “The serum won’t make us stronger! It will take our power! I saw it in his mind! You were lied to!”

The vial suddenly exploded, and Sam used the fog to separate himself from the fight, finding Gideon and Bucky to his left and right. Griffin was choking and sputtering on the floor, an empty syringe next to him.

“Had no choice,” Bucky muttered as Sam swallowed, watching.

They all watched as Griffin’s skin faded, and his eyes closed. He didn’t look completely normal… maybe it would take time. It was enough to unsettle the remaining three.

“The others?” Gideon asked.

Sam put on his Captain voice, “Look, if you surrender-”

Grey laughed loudly, his voice echoing against the ceiling. “This changes nothing. A serum that can take out supersoldiers will sell for millions - billions!” 

“Fuck, he’s right,” Bucky whispered, “We have to end this here.”

Sam swallowed.

Grey cracked his knuckles, taking two steps forward. “Mess.”

She looked at him incredulously. “I’m not leaving you here, you idiot.”

Grey smiled. “I’ll meet you at our spot. Take the serum and go.”

Gideon hissed before Sam could. “You think you’re walking out of here, Grey?”

Grey smiled wildly, eyes filled with something. “Not before I kill you. Prodigy!”

They all moved as Sam felt another mental shock hit him, eyeing Prodigy angrily. At worst, it did seem to be getting easier, but that was more on the scale of blood-curdling downgraded to outright painful.

Sam charged at Prodigy when a blast suddenly hit him from Mess’s gun. He coughed out blood.

“Sam!”

There was buzzing in Sam’s ear, and he eyed a mini Redwing, static coming through it. 

*“Big falcon!? Fuck this stupid thing-”*

“Joaquin?” Sam asked in a raspy voice, pushing up from the ground.

*“Holy shit, I can hear you!”*

“We’re engaged- One down- I need you to-”

Suddenly mini Redwing beeped and sizzled.

Sam stared at it in shock, then viewed Doc Green’s hologram.

“Bugging my computer. Clever, but fruitless,” Doc Green said, irritated. “Only one is down. Kill him and take down the others.”

Anger filled Sam as he rose fully. “No. I’m not an idiot. Not once did you say we were walking out of here alive.”

Plus, he had his SOS log queued to send out the minute Redwing got a connection. It should be through. Joaquin would know what they'd found and, if his training proved well, he’d act in the best accordance.

Doc Green showed no expression. “It’s all the same to me.”

“Sam? Little help-” Bucky shouted, grunting. He and Gideon were fighting Grey tooth and nail, but it looked painful. Prodigy watched them with focused eyes. Mess was loading the vials into a bag. 

Sam raised his gun and shot Prodigy in the leg, breaking the trance.

“We’re not fucking done,” Sam snapped, and then he threw his third vial at Bucky before running to Prodigy. 

The mental strain was intense, but Sam managed to kick Prodigy back, seeing with dismay that the bullet was already falling from his thigh. Mist filled the air again, but this time, a large pair of hands grabbed Sam, and Grey lifted him into the air, growling.

Grey hissed, “We’ll have to finish this another time. Now, both of you back up or I’ll kill him.”

“Sam!” Bucky snapped, eyes wild and angry.

“What’s to stop you from doing it?” Gideon asked, low.

Bucky looked at him crazy. “You son of a bitch.” He turned back to Grey, gun raised. “If you do this, you’re not leaving here alive, and I swear to God I’ll make sure you wish you were never born. Put. Sam. Down.”

Sam fought the hold, but he could hardly breathe, his body feeling weak. Just a moment longer- Little more-  

“Now,” Gideon growled, and he rushed at Mess, who yelped in surprise.

Sam felt Grey’s arms loosen, enough for him to slip down Grey’s large body, holding on for life as Bucky hit Grey with a vibranium punch.

Sam unsheathed the syringe from his pocket, the one Gideon had slipped to him in the fog, and he stabbed it into Grey’s back, earning a loud shout. Sam jumped off, stumbling to the ground, and Bucky jumped back. The syringe was only half empty before Grey flexed his muscles and it flew out, crashing to the floor.

“Fuck, don’t think that was a full dose,” Sam said.

Bucky bared his teeth. “Don’t fucking scare me like that.”

“Sorry- Gid had a-”

“I don’t care! You’re not a pawn!”

Paaaa!

Mess managed to throw Gideon back and shoot him. When Sam turned his head, all he could see was blood in Gideon's abdomen, and Gideon stumbling to the ground. Grey scrambled over to Mess, took her hand, and they ran.

“Gideon!” Sam shouted, suddenly hit by a mental blow. No, fuck, not now-

It was so strong he could barely see straight this time, ears hearing high frequency, and he fell to his knees, trying to crawl to his brother. “Bucky, help Gid-”

Sam blinked, and passed out for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, there was screaming in his ears, and Bucky’s hands were around Prodigy’s neck, eyes shot black with rage. 

“Bucky-” Sam coughed, “Don’t-”

Bucky gritted, squeezing harder, and then he let Prodigy go, his body sliding to the ground, eyes rolled back behind his head. “He’s alive,” Bucky muttered as he ran over to Gideon. “Shit.”

Sam made it over finally, trying to see the damage. “Can’t you super-heal or something?” Sam asked, applying pressure to the wound.

Gideon smirked. His hand opened, and an empty vial fell out. “She got me good.”

Bucky closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s lethal- but-”

“I’m not done!” Prodigy suddenly shouted.

Bucky rolled his eyes and picked up a syringe, marching over.

This much blood. Sam tried to keep calm, head ringing as he went through his options. “We have to get out of here, Gid.”

Gideon shook his head, an eerie smile on his face. “You have to get out. Send Sarah and the boys my graces… I think it’s time I see Jim. Tell him I should’ve… been a better father.”

Sam looked horrified. “Gideon?”

He closed his eyes.

“Gideon!”

No response.

Sam slapped him. “Gid!”

“Jesus Lord, let a man rest,” Gideon whispered, eyes peeking back open, and Sam realized they were brown again, the same brown as his own. Sam bit back his tears. “Always damn crying.”

“Stay here, I’ll find a way out,” Sam said, getting up, taking a deep breath. Prodigy was on the floor, skin changing color slowly, and Bucky walked back to Sam. “We have to go, Buck.”

“Not after I finish those assholes,” Bucky said, unsheathing his knife.

Shock filled Sam as he looked across the large room, seeing Grey and Mess running toward the exit. Surely, they would have gone already… The doors slid shut, and they ran to another one.

A sense of dread filled Sam. “Bucky…” he whispered as the final door closed, and suddenly Doc Green appeared at the center, glowing.

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed.

“What the hell!?” Mess shouted, picking up her gun and shooting at it. The bullets whipped through the hologram, hitting items behind him.

“It is my mission to rid the world of this Gamma sickness,” Doc Green said, loud enough for them all to hear, “But some are rotten even without it.”

“Your fucking point!?” Bucky snapped, a hand tight on his knives.

Doc Green smiled, a smile of irritation. “None of you are leaving here alive. Farewell.” He cut out, and the lights shut off, making the room go silent and pitch black.

Sam heard his own breath before a red light flooded the room. Mist emanated from the vents, and any supervillain movie could tell you it was a sign of early death. 

“Buck… shit.” Sam didn’t know what to do, eyeing Gideon, eyeing Bucky. Bucky moved first, running to the tables as Sam ran to Gideon, cursing. “This is bad, Gid. Gid?”

Gideon opened his eyes, looking irritated. “You had to mess with the damn machine?”

“Really?! You’re blaming me right now!?” 

“You were always a fast behind,” Gideon grumbled, coughing.

Mess approached them with hostility, gun raised, eyes wild with anger. “This is your fault! If you hadn’t been a traitor, we would’ve left!”

Sam jumped in front of Gideon as she shot, wings shielding them. Her gun clicked after the last bullet and she hissed. 

“Sam!” Bucky shouted, “I’ve got two masks!”

Sam sighed in relief, getting up.

“Sam!”

“I know-” Sam started but he was suddenly hit with a blast of something he couldn’t describe. His body felt like it was on fire, and he screamed as Bucky shot Mess several times.

Suddenly, a mask was thrown at Sam and Gideon, and Bucky was fighting with Grey and Mess. Gideon secured the mask over Sam as Sam struggled to breathe, the fire not dying down. There was static in his ears.

**“Big Falcon? There’s a shit ton of power being used- Backup is almost-”**

The lights shut off completely.

A new glow was picked up, making a familiar tingle raise the hair on Sam's arms. Within the dim light, he made out Bucky, Mess, and Grey on the floor.

In front of them stood Monica, and she looked around at the scene before them. “Who’s ass am I supposed to kick, exactly?”

Sam’s head fell back as she threw her hands up and the lights returned to normal, the fog clearing. Thank God. His comm was working again, and he heard Joaquin asking a hundred questions that he was too tired to answer.

“I think we’re good now.”

She pursed her lips, disbelieving. “Your ass don’t look good-”

Green light emanated in the center of the room, and Doc Green glared. “How did you get in here?”

“Actually, please get rid of the evil hologram AI thing… pretty please?”

Monica looked at him judgingly, exhaling. “Fine.” She threw a bolt of electricity at Doc Green, and then he was gone. 

Holy shit-

“That’s just one image, I’ll go find the CPU,” she muttered, tiredly.

Sam nodded, watching her jump into the air, and like a bolt of electricity, she was gone. 

“Maybe not all enhanced are bad,” Gideon mumbled.

Sam smirked, looking at him. “You turning over a new leaf?”

Gideon’s eyes were half-closed. “Sam, do it now, while they’re down.”

“You gonna be alright?” he asked, hesitant but still getting up.

Gideon didn’t answer, but Sam couldn’t waste any more time. The burn had dwindled enough for him to walk, and he instructed Redwing to light his path as he searched for a syringe. Most of the serums were taken, but there were two that he loaded into the syringe, trudging over to the trio on the ground.

He stuck Grey first, body knowing who he wanted to fight the least. And then Mess, and she opened her eyes, surprised, but the change was already starting, and she passed out.

Bucky groaned, blinking as Sam dropped the needles. “Doll, are you an angel?”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, and you’re heaven.”

Bucky laughed, looking very afflicted by whatever came from the events, drunk on probably that super soldier serum pumping through his veins, keeping him upright.

**“Big Falcon, Maria’s on the line asking for you.”**

“Shit,” Sam whispered, connecting his and Bucky’s earpieces. “It’s Sam.”

**“Thank you, really, gentlemen, for informing me of this mission as an afterthought.”**

Sam swallowed. “Maria, I-”

*“Sam, Bucky,” Bruce’s voice suddenly entered, “I need you to destroy that lab.”*

Bucky blinked. “Uh, okay-”

“Absolutely not!” Maria countered. “If there is a serum present then it must be confiscated and given to proper channels. We can’t allow it to fall into the wrong hands.”

“That’s exactly why it should be destroyed. I know that you’ll do the right thing, Sam.”

“Barnes,” Maria growled, making Bucky flinch, “If more of these assholes pop up, we need an edge up against them, to protect everyone.”

Sam scowled. “We’ll brief once out. All hostiles are down.” 

Their lines cut and Joaquin returned. *“I’ve got a security team on standby. They want to arrest the corp, Sam. Sam?”*

Sam tightened, eyes scrolling over the lab. There wasn’t just the serum, but a plethora of gadgets that would be dangerous in the wrong hands. No one could fight over what didn’t exist…

A flash of light came, and Monica returned. 

“Did you destroy the AI?” Sam asked.

Bucky raised a brow.

Monica shook her head. “I hit him with enough energy to put him into a coma. If I destroy him, computers say this place is set to blow. Figured I’d give y’all a head start.”

Sam almost laughed, delirious. “God. Alright.”

“You sure?” Bucky asked, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulders.

Sam smiled and nodded. “This stuff was lost. It can stay lost.”

Monica looked around at the passed-out corp members. “There is an elevator, but… the quickest way would be to…”

“Bust a hole in the roof,” Bucky finished, a smile on his face.

She laughed. “Finally, someone with some sense in here.”

Sam was given a wink’s notice before she took a deep breath and then shot a mass of energy from her body, burning clean through the ceiling. Then she expanded in size, a welcome surprise as she scooped up the members, including Gideon, in her palms, rising with them through the hole.

“You ever feel…” Sam motioned.

“Useless?” Bucky asked.

Sam laughed weakly. “Come on, let’s blow this shit up the Bucky way.” 

Bucky grinned, supporting Sam as they walked down the hall.

Sam lifted his gauntlet. “Quin, I need medical support for Gideon as well. Even if he’s arrested, they need to treat him.”

**“Got it. I take it the backup was helpful?”**

Sam smiled. “Didn’t know she’d be backup, we’re grateful.”

**“Thank S.W.O.R.D., not me.”**

Bucky hummed. “S.W.O.R.D.? Suddenly, I can’t stand her.”

Sam nudged him and rolled his eyes.

~*~

They made it to a room with a freshly charred ‘X’ on it. The spot marked. Inside, there were rows of generators and computers, an otherwise evil set-up.

“Wait,” an electronic voice said.

Sam stared at a monitor, seeing a green lifeline glow. “What’s up, doc?”

“If you let me live, I will grant any request. Currency, intelligence, technology. Nothing is out of my range,” Doc Green said weakly.

“Great, more reasons to blow you up,” Bucky mumbled, pulling out his gun.

“I’m sorry about this, really,” Sam said, “But this lab is dangerous, and you literally tried to kill us. Any last words?”

“I would do it again.”

“Jesus,” Bucky winced, shooting at the machines. It took a few shots before a fire started, and an emergency light started flashing. 

Sam spoke into his comm. “We did it, Bruce.”

A sigh. **“Thank you. I’m flying in to oversee your recovery.”**

“Hm,” Doc Green said, “So you trust the creator.”

Sam furrowed. “We trust our friends. Goodbye, Doc Green.”

An electronic laugh. “You and all of humanity… are fools.”

“Honey bunch, we’ve gotta go,” Bucky muttered, pulling Sam toward the door as the fire grew. “Shit’s literally about to blow.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Sam scrambled out with him, jogging a pace behind. “What’s with honey bunch? You don’t call me that.”

“I don’t know, sweet muffin!” Bucky yelled back as they burst back into the large laboratory, the hole to the ceiling large and inviting. “Still got juice in the wings?”

“Yeah, for my real boyfriend, and not this imposter!” Sam spread his wings as fire burst into the room, and Bucky wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I thought you hated flying?”

“Fly, sweetheart, Jesus fuck!”

Sam did, laughing as they flew up into the sky, the explosion underneath them as Bucky whooped, Sam giggling along with him, drunk on the adrenaline rush of cheating death once again, the rush of being an Avenger, of being Captain America.

“Marry me!” 

Bucky’s face went into panic. “Wh-what!?”

“You said an explosion, punching Nazis, and promise rings. I only have the explosion, but-”

“That was for coming out to the world, not proposing! Jesus Christ, Sam! How could you beat me to this right now!? Fuck!” 

**“Am I invited? I’ve always wanted to go to a super-hitch.”**

“J-Joaquin?” Sam asked, horror filling him as they hovered.

There were vans loading the corps members and a helicopter with med-vac assistance for Gideon, but… shit, that didn’t mean their comms weren’t still on.

Sam shifted his shock to anger. “Quin!”

**“Sorry, I thought you’d want to debrief! Promise!”** 

But as Sam glared at the quinjet, zooming in with his goggles, he could see a smile behind the dashboard. “I’m gonna kill you.”

**“After the wedding?”** Joaquin asked, giggling.

“I hate this,” Bucky grumbled, hiding his face in Sam’s chest. “There were supposed to be fireworks, Prince performing, and like three sets of rings, Sam.”

Sam’s face flushed red as he finally realized he should fly them to safety. They were sort of hovering over an open flame… and his jetpack didn’t have eternal fuel. “My bad, Buck.”

When they landed, he found Monica leaning against a S.W.O.R.D. truck, the remaining members loaded and secured. “You’re welcome.”

Sam huffed. “We did loosen the lid for you.”

She chuckled again. “You might have… also fixed my relationship. I owed you one.”

Sam’s brows raised up. “We did? I- I did?”

“Bucky, I mean.”

Sam’s jaw fell, and Bucky came back to Earth. “Shit, right. How did it go?”

“As well as it could,” she answered nonchalantly. “I mean, it’s Leila.”

“True,” Bucky said with a laugh. They both looked at Sam with his open jaw. “During the pool game, we talked a little- You know, before fighting for our lives… doll, are you good?”

Sam was good. Excellent really. His boyfriend was stealing his family and friends again, and his body reminded him that he was internally on fire. He just needed to lie down and close his eyes.

“Sam, fuck. Sweetheart, come on. Not now, please, Sam. Look at me,” Bucky’s voice was soft. “Joaquin, we need to get to a hospital now.”

Everything was dark.

~*~

“It’s always the same show…” 

“I know right. The crying and praying.” 

“This one is different, he had a metal wing.” 

“The metal-winged bird is lying down. I thought he was only a legend amongst birds…” 

“No, the flightless bird. Look at his left wing.” 

“Oh, how shiny.” 

“Very shiny.”

The nurse closed the window, and the birds flew away. She kept the curtains open just enough for sunlight but kept the ray out of Sam’s eyes as he lay in the bed.

“Thank you,” Bucky said quietly. He watched her check Sam’s medical equipment as was typical routine, and then she was gone. 

Bruce entered, a clipboard in his hand. “Hey, Barnes.” Bucky tried to smile. “How’ve you been sleeping?”

“He’s not up yet, so…”

“I mean you.” Bruce’s brow wrinkled. “It’s only been a day, which is a long time but for the stress you all went through… that’s enough to give a human body some rest.”

Bucky nodded, hating that he couldn’t understand that. It felt unfair that he would make it out alive, a little banged up, but breathing, and Sam… No, this is different. 

“You got the report, right? Everything that happened, and, uh, Redwing’s recordings? Maybe I missed something-”

“Bucky,” Bruce said, face gentle. “You should get some rest.”

Bucky nodded, realizing Bruce was saying politely that he couldn’t do his job efficiently while being hovered over. Bucky slowly got up and left the room, turning away as Bruce opened a Stark-level scanner gadget. 

Sarah’s warm face met Bucky, her eyes expecting as she rose up and pulled him into a tight hug. Bucky was shaking, fuck, he was losing it. “Bruce says fatigue and mission stuff-”

“I know… I already asked him a hundred questions. I’m here, Bucky.”

“I don’t deserve it. I couldn’t-”

“Come.” She guided him to a bench, holding his hand. “Sam’s strong. Y’all do this superhero mess all the time… and he’s got a strong heart. Plus, he’s barely slept in like our whole life.” She rolled her eyes. “Even as kids, he’d be the first one up. TT always said everything catches up to you. I figured times like these he's… just catching up.”

Bucky tried to smile but he only felt stinging frustration. “I didn’t say yes, Sarah, if he-” I can’t do this. I can’t lose him. I need him.

“Yes about… what?” Her head tilted, eyes lighting up. “No way.”

“He beat me to it. All this time preparing, Christ.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped, shouting in a whisper. “He proposed!? When!?”

“When he carried me out the flames…” Bucky grumbled. “Romantic jerk.”

Sarah laughed, and then her smile faded. “Wait, you said no to my brother?” Bucky was surprised by the hit he received on the arm. It didn’t hurt, but-

“Uh, I didn’t say no… I just didn’t say yes.”

She hit him again.

“Ow?”

“Bucky, you ain’t new anymore! If you act a fool, I’m hitting you like I would any Wilson man! When he wakes you, you’d better say yes.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Can’t believe y’all are such clowns.”

Bucky finally laughed, leaning against her shoulder and smiling. “I will.”

***

Notes:

AH. I AM RELIEVED to say next chapter is ACTUALLY the last 😭 I hope this chapter was as good as I hyped it up to beeee. And I won't troll y'all. Sam is fine! He will wake up in like 2 sentences lol 🥰 I'll make sure the last one is flufftastic

Chapter 23: Mutant

Summary:

Sam recovers from the mission, Bucky at his side.

Explicit

Notes:

I love how i keep failing to end this work 😭 I think next chap will be the last.

New Orleans

Sam opened his eyes, understanding that he had a pulsing headache even before he felt the sunlight blinding him through the curtains. “Ow, f-”

“Sam?” Bucky rose from his seat across the room, looking like honest-to-God hell, but Sam immediately craved him anyway, needing him closer.

Bucky complied with the silent longing, dragging himself to Sam so that their lips could meet, one of his hands clutching the metal bars while the other caressed Sam’s face, fingers shaky. Sam moaned into his mouth and pulled Bucky in with the hand that wasn’t attached to an IV.

“Thank you,” Bucky whispered, forehead pressed to his.

Sam smiled, rubbing his thumb into Bucky’s neck. “For?”

“Coming back to me.”

“I was just taking a nap, baby.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing in for another kiss, hotter, one that drew a weak groan from Sam’s lips before a throat cleared.

Sam froze, their bodies still as they glanced to the doorway, taking in Sarah standing with one hand on her hip, the other holding a large lunch bag.

She shook her head. “Why do I even bother with y’all?”

Bucky chuckled first, and Sam smiled, finally processing the fact that he was in a hospital room, and… A wave of fear washed over him. “Gid?”

“He’s fine,” Sarah insisted, marching toward him, “Worry about your own self for once, Sam. You’ve got a whole wedding to plan, right?” Her tone was coy.

Sam’s jaw dropped, eyes very wide as Bucky looked at him softly with a blush, technically matching Sam’s even though it was covered. “Wait-”

“No take-backs,” Bucky said quickly, “Even if you beat me to it.”

Error 404. Sam.exe had stopped working.

Beat you to it!?

“What!?” Sam shouted, somehow making his headache worse, and he winced, eyes shut tight. Actually, his whole body was still sore, feeling like one big throbbing bruise. Holy shit, he asked Bucky to marry him. That’s like a rest of your life kind of thing to ask. But Bucky was going to ask first? Everything was tingling. 

Bucky and Sarah repeatedly said his name, and he couldn’t respond. 

When he finally did, they had already called in Bruce.

“Uh oh, that dose is wearing off,” Bruce said calmly as he filled the IV bag with a new syringe. “This should do it for the pain.”

Sam gasped, feeling the wonderful drugs flood his system, reaching for Bucky’s hand, the wild blue concern punching him in the gut. “S-sorry-” For whatever the fuck that was.

Bucky squeezed back, whispering, “I’m just glad you’re okay, sweetheart.”

Tears filled Sam’s eyes as he nodded back, thinking he was glad, too.

Sarah exhaled.

~*~

Sam felt better with the curtains closed, which seemed to stop the noise in his head, and they all served lunch together, courtesy of Sarah and her cooking. He understood now that he was in the New Orleans hospital that Terrance and Janet were staying in.

“The boys okay?” he asked between Bucky spooning soup into his mouth, the bed angled so he could sit up.

“Tonya’s picking them up today. She’s gonna sit at the house with them till we get back.”

“Oh,” Sam said simply, and he hummed, testing, “Tate’s mom, Tonya?”

Sarah raised a brow. “You knocked a couple of marbles loose, Sam? You were just at her bar.”

He chuckled, earning a protest from his body. “Apparently.” Bucky met his look as he fed him again. It’s not like Sam immediately expected Cass to open up… but he’d sort of hoped he would to his mom, given that Sam felt Sarah would absolutely support her son.

“So, when do I bust out?” Sam asked loud enough for Bruce to hear.

Bruce’s brows raised up high. “Well, after a simple examination, you’re free to go, assuming there are no more of these odd… symptoms.”

Sam gave Bucky a look, and suddenly Bucky was looking at the bowl. “Symptoms?”

“This hospital is surprisingly state-of-the-art. It has a lot of equipment that can support mutants,” Bruce explained.

Sam nodded as if he followed. “Yeah… that’s good for them, the mutants.”

Bruce’s lips pressed together. “I just think it would do you well to rest longer, Sam, make sure you aren’t affected by any radiation or anything from that lab.”

Bucky squeezed Sam’s hand, giving him eyes that made him soften. “Yeah, alright…” Sam mumbled, shoulders lowering, deciding to change the subject. “Gideon’s here too?”

“Lower level,” Bruce said.

Sam’s brows knit. The secure level. “Cause he’s enhanced, right…” They went silent, and his eyes widened, brain once again filling in the mission gaps through the fog. “Wait, we fought- Bucky, the serum- Shit-”

“Yeah,” Bruce agreed awkwardly, “He’s still in a secure room, but… I’ll tell you right now, I don’t sense gamma irradiation in his body, nor in the other group members. What you both did down there worked. Thank you.”

Awe filled Sam, and he could only stare between them, admittedly not having considered that… “The fight is over?”

“On the physical, at least,” Bucky mumbled, “There’s still the mountain of paperwork and reports to turn in.”

Sam winced. “Shit, I should be helping you with that.” He started to sit up. “Just- If I could get a laptop-”

Bucky sighed, pushing Sam’s chest lightly, smiling as he shook his head. “Sam, come on. It’s only work, and believe it, Rhodes is being helpful with some of it. Last I checked, given that Gideon can’t be considered a powered being without… well, powers, it pushes him up higher in pardon chances.”

Sam settled back into the pillow in defeat, watching Bucky fluff them, Sarah’s thoughtful eyes on him, Bruce’s head ducked into his computer. There’s nothing else I can do, he admitted to himself, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. Maybe part of the fear he’d first felt when he’d realized his brother was different started to fade away. 

But there was another twist in his gut over knowing him being with Bucky would always be a rift between them. That hurt a lot more than any mysterious symptoms could, a lot more than the dull ache in the back of his head.

Sarah took his hand, her face soft and kind. “Take it easy, Sam, you can get back to work later.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed quietly. Bucky took Sam’s other hand and he allowed their warmth to ground him, even as his mind didn’t quite stop processing.

~*~

When he felt well enough to get up and go around, Bucky helped Sam into the shower, which thankfully was designed with accessibility in mind. He sat on a bench letting the water run over his head, sighing at nothing.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, soaping up the loofah before handing it to him.

“I wanna go see Gid,” Sam mumbled, rubbing the parts of himself he could reach, “I don’t know how it’s going to go.”

Bucky only hummed, sitting in the chair across from him, looking like he was thinking hard over the words. Sam finished what he could and then handed him the sponge, turning so Bucky could get his back. Finally, Bucky decided, “Just do what you always do.”

“Keep myself from trying to whoop his ass?” Sam raised a brow. “He was literally shot, Bucky.”

Bucky scoffed. “You think Steve didn’t ever hit me on the back of the head in Wakanda?”

Sam laughed. “Do I need to remind you that I was there with you? And wait, are you saying that was an option every time you were a sarcastic jerk?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up, it’s only cause I had a stupid crush on you.” 

Sam felt himself blush as Bucky finished and started pumping shampoo into his hands. It was a travel size of the brand Sam usually used, making him raise his brows. “When’d you go to the store?”

“Didn’t. You know you can get convenience delivery for like anything these days? At least in a well-populated city.”

Sam only hummed, allowing Bucky to reach up and rub his scalp. “You’re saying you want our honeymoon suite to be in New Orleans?”

Bucky chuckled. “Could just visit more often since I guess we have friends here now.”

“We… our… that’s literal married shit, Buck,” Sam said as Bucky rinsed his head. 

A smile met him. “I know right.”

After the shower and feeling like some semblance of his former well-moisturized self, Sam begrudgingly changed back into his patient shirt and pants, a cardigan over it. He checked himself in the mirror, slipped into shoes, and then they were heading to the elevator, hand in hand, Sam stilling himself. This time, he didn’t notice the little smiles from a nurse with lizard eyes and an elderly woman or a child that suddenly doubled into two children running up to their dad in a wheelchair. 

They headed down to face Gideon, well, Sam was, because Bucky gave him a kiss on the cheek and said good luck once he reached the lower level, crossing paths with Sarah who was leaving. “I’ll walk Sarah out,” Bucky excused himself with a wink as Sam shot him traitor eyes.

She seemed unaffected by the mood, probably used to their foolishness by now, and Sam sighed, “Fine, I’ll text you,” and then he was in front of Gideon’s room alone. Maybe it was for the best. This was something he needed to do alone, and he couldn’t hide behind Bucky this time. Not that that reality did much to raise his mood.

Sam took a deep breath before a voice asked, “You just gon’ linger out there, Sarah?”

Sam swallowed. “No, it’s me.” There was silence, and he added, “Sam,” pushing open the door to a spacious but nice and minimal suite. It suited Gideon, not too over the top, but he looked out of character laying in a hospital bed in a matching patient uniform, blankets over his legs, leather jacket hanging next to him, an electronic cigarette in his hand. 

“Oh,” he only said back, drawing his attention back to the television in Sam’s peripheral. 

Sam stood there for a moment.

“Something smell off in here?”

Sam rolled his eyes, entering the room. Forget manners, Gideon was an asshole. “Yeah, smells like a stubborn old man. And since when do you smoke E-cigs?”

Gideon shrugged. “Only thing they had.”

Sam raised a brow. “You’re in one of the best hospitals for enhanced and special individuals and you asked them for, what, a Cuban cigar?” he looked in disbelief as Gideon didn’t respond. “Forget it, I’m surprised you even got that thing.”

There was a set of armchairs across from the bed and Sam trailed in to stand by one, making out the Sarah touches in the room. The cooler bag on the nightstand likely had some Wilson soup in it. A scratched-up bible next to it bound in leather. Sam’s eyes focused, recognizing it as, “Dad’s?”

Gideon nodded, still eyeing the TV. The program was a black minister preaching, but it didn’t seem like he was really that into it. Rather, Sam figured it was nothing Gideon didn’t already know.

Sam exhaled. “You at least doing alright? They’re treating you to standard?”

“Here to interrogate me?” Gideon asked in response.

“No, I’m here to simply check in on my brother who’s forgotten his home training,” Sam snapped, “Do I look like I’m here to argue with you, Gid? Really?” He tightened, staring at the TV, too. 

Gideon glanced over, set brow lowering just an inch. “No,” he said quietly, “You look like hell.”

Sam scoffed. “And you don’t? Cause you’re the one in bed while I’m standing.”

Gideon scoffed back. “Barely. You call that standing? Looking like one of those memes the boys go on about.”

“🧍🏾 I-” Sam deadpanned, the Bucky part of him rearing its head. “That’s it, I’m whooping your ass-”

“Who’s whooping what?” Sarah’s voice asked from behind him.

Sam’s jaw stiffened as she re-entered, crossing the room. The tension could have literally popped like a balloon until a dry laugh escaped Sam, hearing some semblance of a similar one from the bed, accompanied by a wince as Sarah popped Gideon.

“Nothing, I was kidding,” Sam explained as she took the cooler bag from Gideon’s bedside table, ignoring his set-jaw scowl as she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’m gonna head home. Y’all better behave. I mean it.” She pointed her finger at both of them, giving Sam a similar hit, and then they were left alone. 

Sam sighed, finally taking a seat in a chair. “The sooner you actually chat with me, you know, the sooner I’ll leave.”

“Great,” Gideon grumbled, puffing his cigarette with annoyance, the tiny fog rising from it. It didn’t have the same dramatic fair as a cigar.

“Unless you actually want me around?”

Gideon’s eye twitched and Sam smirked, watching the television with him for a little longer. Sam yawned as he eyed the screen, still a bit tired despite his shower.

“What’s the matter with you?” 

Sam glanced over, leaning on a palm. “Some kind of mysterious effects of… something. I don’t know, Bruce is looking into it.”

Gideon only grunted, continuing his smoking, but he had a scrunch in his brow. “Shouldn’t have brought you in the first place. Scrub.”

“Says the guy I had to carry out on my back,” Sam shot.

Gideon narrowed. It was technically a lie, but Sam didn’t want him to feel like he had the upper hand right now. A nurse came in to check Gideon’s vitals, leaving him snacks that were easy on the stomach, and then they were alone again.

Sam glanced at the TV as he ate Gideon’s applesauce. “You know, he kind of looks like Pa, right? I mean like from the side when he’s-” he made a preaching gesture with one hand. 

Gideon hummed. “Not half as good of a storyteller.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile. “I think AJ got that gene. He opens his mouth and the whole room is listening. Damn, you should’ve seen him at the last town broil.”

Gideon merely grunted.

Biting his lip, Sam managed to ask, “Did you mean it?”

Gideon eyed him, eyes looking almost identical to his own.

“You said… with JJ you wanted to be a better father.” Sam watched Gideon tighten. “I really did love him, too. I don’t blame you or anything, Gid, I just… worry.”

Finally, Gideon said, “I won’t be seeing him any time soon, Sam. Jumping in front of the gun like a fool you made sure of that.”

Sam laughed weakly. “Well, my wings are vibranium.”

“I’m looking at a scrub in scrubs.”

“Oh, shut up!” Sam huffed. “Can’t even have a moment with you. You know, you’ve always been so bad at humor. Remember when TT made that joke about Jonah and Ninevah?” Sam started to laugh.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “The lord’s book ain’t a joke, brother.”

“Or, you’re just a hard-ass. TT said you couldn’t get even a squirrel to smile at you if you were acting like a nut.” Sam laughed again as Gideon opened the bible, a holy gesture of ignoring him. 

Sam trailed his eyes over the edges, thinking how those could’ve been his father’s hands holding the book.

“I’m gonna go check on a friend.”

“You can leave whenever you want, brother.”

Sam pursed his lips. “I’m not making an excuse. My friend Terrance is down the hall.”

Gideon’s brow quirked.

“Yeah, he kind of ran into your little coworkers. He’s fine now… has got this really adorable kid. I’ll come by again.”

“No need, I’ll probably be transferred elsewhere.”

Sam’s brows knit. “Well, I’ll see what Rhodes can do. See you later, Gid.”

“Careful getting out that door.”

“Shut up!”

~*~

Sam found Bucky in Terrance’s suite, his mood immediately lifting. A beaming smile formed on his face as he took in the cutest sight that he could imagine.

Little Janet swung from Bucky’s arm as he talked to Terrance. Bucky didn’t seem winded at all as she held on with a super grip. Terrance’s eyes drifted to her and then to Sam with a warm smile.

“Hey,” Sam said, “You’re looking good.”

Terrance had on a bright turtleneck underneath his hospital casuals, and he raised a brow as Sam approached. “It’s the weirdest feeling seeing Captain America in scrubs.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Thanks, you’re not the only one.” He looked around, noticing two suitcases as Janet hopped down, inspecting him with curious eyes.

“Hello Miss Janet,” Sam said, “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

She looked at Terrance and he nodded, smiling, then she beamed. “Can I see your wings, Mr. America?”

Sam’s brows raised and he grinned, gap showing. “Well, I don’t actually have them on me right now, but next time, you absolutely can.” He eyed Terrance. “There will be a next time, right? Or, you headed somewhere?”

Bucky spoke up, “Couldn’t convince him to stay.”

Sam scrunched his face, taking in Terrance’s guilty look as he sighed. “Just to New York. We’ll be back but… there’s openings in a program upstate, similar to the one I did, and I’ll be able to go with her. I got in touch with my mother, too, and she's flying in to meet us.”

Sam softened as Janet flopped onto Terrance’s bed, swinging her feet back and forth. “I’m glad. Do what’s best for your family, Terry.”

Terrance smiled. “Pretty sure the Avengers HQ is up there, so I don’t think this is the end of this friends shindig.” 

“Damn right it isn’t.” Bucky smirked, suddenly stirring. “Excuse my- uh- English.”

Terrance looked at him in dramatic disbelief. “Can’t believe this fella, swearing around my little angel.” He scoffed, looking to Sam for support, who laughed.

Sam couldn’t disagree with the notion of their friendship continuing, stepping closer to Bucky. “Yeah, it is time our vacation ended, anyway… even though we’re, uh…” he eyed Bucky, seeing a twinkle in his eye and a smirk. “Engaged.”

Terrance gasped, hands on both cheeks like The Scream, and Sam’s shoulders fell. 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah…” Terrance smiled awkwardly, “Monica sort of let it slip to Leila, and then Leila called, and Bucky also just told me, and… I really am excited! I just already went through the ‘Wow!’ but I’m definitely coming to the wedding.” He pointed a finger. “I’m the best wedding guest, ever.”

Sam sighed, relaxing into Bucky’s traitorous hold as he rubbed Sam’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll have a table with your name on it.”

Terrance beamed. “A whole table, not half. Cause I need room for all the mutant squad, and Leila’s gonna want to set up a live stream.”

“A- a live stream?” Sam winced. 

Terrance paused. “I mean… it’s a super-hitch.”

Bucky agreed. “Whole world should see it. Whole galaxy, really. Rocket’s gonna be pissed if he doesn’t get a clip.”

“That thieving raccoon?” Sam raised a brow.

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a forgiving man.”

Terrance blinked, and they had to explain to him how a talking raccoon with internalized ableism tried to buy Bucky’s arm. 

~*~

When Bruce returned, Sam was back in his hospital bed, upright with a portable desk on his lap, a shy smile on his face.

“Thought you were Bucky,” Sam said, looking at his laptop, typing into emails.

“I’m back to check on your symptoms,” Bruce said, “And I do have some results.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Sam mumbled, clicking enter, and then he met the stressed look on Bruce’s brow, making him narrow. Bucky came back in behind him with a tray of two ice cream bowls. “It is good results, right?”

Bucky almost dropped the tray.

Sam narrowed. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not being told something?”

Bucky handed Sam what looked like raspberry sherbet. “Bruce didn’t want to stress you out with speculation, doll…”

“Okay, and whatever it is is clearly important enough to not tip-toe around me,” Sam said with a hiss, eyeing them both. “Bruce?”

Bruce nodded, approaching the bed. “Since you’ve stabilized, Sam, I’ve detected a consistent X-Gene in your blood samples.”

Sam swallowed, suddenly not craving anything sweet. “What do you mean by that?”

“X-Genes are typically found in people who are considered mutants… not all who have the gene active are mutated individuals, of course, but given the strange symptoms you experienced which I’ve cross-checked with anecdotes from studies with mutated individuals-”

“Can you please stop saying mutated individual?” Sam winced. “You’re saying I’m a mutant?”

Bucky squeezed Sam’s hand, but Sam continued to look at Bruce.

“Likely, yes.”

“God…” Sam rubbed his forehead, trying to wrap his head around such an idea. It was impossible to even wrap around. Mutants were diverse in all possible ways, and… discriminated against. He hated that his stomach sunk with that realization first, like maybe this was another layer he didn’t need already being black while Captain America, while a veteran, while gay… “I need a minute.”

Bruce exhaled. “Absolutely. Just, before I go, part of the medication has helped to suppress symptoms, but it isn’t permanent. In the long term, it would benefit you to enroll in a program that can teach you how to identify what these changes mean for you and how to remain integrated with society.”

Sam smiled tightly. “On top of, what, antipsychotics and therapy?”

“To be frank, my medication likely won’t work for longer than a year, but I will be keeping an eye on it. You aren’t alone, Sam. There are a few mutant Avengers that can empathize as well.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

With a nod to them both, he left, and Sam stared into his melting bowl.

“What can I do?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.”

Sam laid back into the bed. “I don’t know, I’m a mutant now… we can go to those funky bars together and it won’t be weird, right? Or, maybe I’ll grow wings tomorrow and fly off somewhere… be an actual flying fairy-”

“Sam!” Bucky stood up, taking his shoulders, eyes flitting from his. “Please, take in it slowly, but don’t do that to yourself… don’t be mean to my freaking hot fiance.” 

Sam tried to smile. “I need to think, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, looking unsure of what to do with himself. 

“Can you just… get in here?”

An eager nod met Sam, his bowl was being moved to the side, and Bucky was climbing into the bed with him, pulling Sam into his chest, much easier without wires or an IV. The nurse would probably be surprised they both managed to fit when he got checked on again, but he didn’t care. Didn’t think that far, just wanted to hold Bucky and try to wrap his brain around this.

~*~

“I think they’re mated.”

“Who?”

“The legendary bird and the bird with the metal wing.”

“Why’s that matter?”

“Skippy wanted to know. She’s looking.”

Skippy landed on the window sill. “I did not! I’ll have you know, my nest is not big enough to fit such a large bird.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you last time.”

“I wanted to look at the shiny wing, that’s all!”

“Perverse.”

Sam stirred, feeling like he was poking at something. He knew that he was sleeping, denoted by the heaviness against him and his own snores, but he felt like he was flying, somewhere outside of his body, and he asked, “Who’s there?”

The voices quieted. 

“Did you hear that?”

“No, you did.”

“Stop playing tricks, Skippy.”

“Do I sound male to you!?” she squawked back at them both particularly loudly.

Sam opened his eyes, almost sitting up, looking around the room. Dark, dim from the bathroom light and the lamp in the corner.

Bucky moaned, reaching to rub his arm. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Sam swallowed, feeling himself calm down as his eyes landed on the windowsill and the sensation of being watched or…

“Just a dream,” he mumbled, tucking back down into Bucky’s embrace, feeling lips brush his forehead. Thankfully, sleep took him as quickly as it had left.

---

Texas

Once Sam was up and about, he was ready to tackle missions. Bucky was texting updates to Leila. Seriously, did this man have to snatch all of Sam’s friends? Family, too? Have we already been husbands? That thought was disgustingly domestic. He was going to throw up. 

“Sam?” Bucky asked.

Sam paused, shut his eyes, and waited for the moment of noise to pass, feeling a hand on his back. That would have to be a recurring thing until he figured out this mutant stuff. They were technically engaged, and that felt exciting, so he let that ground him. He met Bucky’s soft eyes over him. 

“My bad,” Sam wanted to say, but instead, he leaned in and pulled Bucky by his jacket straps into a kiss, surprising them both. 

“Wow,” Bucky whispered under his breath, eyes only on Sam and not the S.W.O.R.D. clean-up staff working around them, “I only gotta call your name to get you to do that? Just you wait, sweetheart…”

Sam grinned. “I’m done waiting, Mr. Wilson.”

Bucky chuckled, putting his arm fully around Sam’s shoulders. The sound of thrusters came behind them and then Joaquin landed, a toothy smile on his face. “Hey!”

“Little Falcon, how’s clean-up going?”

Joaquin beamed. “Great, would probably go faster if you guys would leave. The point of more responsibility is not to be hounded by the veterans.” Plus, their occasional displays of affection distracted people carrying probably radioactive debris.

Sam smirked, letting Bucky go. Joaquin was looking good, posture upright and strong, eyes more certain every time Sam saw him - that with the caveat of the fountain of energy that is youth in your twenties. 

“Oh, relax, we just came for coffee,” Bucky argued, crossing his arms, sleeve ripped off of the left. Fight mode. 

Joaquin raised a brow that read all the way in Texas? but Sam winked, and he didn’t argue back, inviting them into a tent set up with refreshments.

They sat at a round table with coffees, pulling up an extra chair, and Sam let Joaquin fill him in on details he’d missed being otherwise half-awake in the hospital. 

“Almost everything was destroyed,” Joaquin explained in a surprisingly discreet voice, “Mostly what’s being collected is scraps, and they want to see what data might be pulled from those crispy computers.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “They’re that desperate?”

Joaquin nodded. “Hill’s mainly ordering it. I’m on lead but feels mostly like I’m a grunt or something. If you ask me, that stuff is totally burnt…” he suddenly smiled, “Good thing I already cleaned out what survived. Off the record, there may be a couple of lockboxes in Avengers towers.”

Sam’s brows raised high, laughing a little too loud. “You sly bird!”

Bucky scoffed, lifting his coffee to his lips. “We did not raise you to be deceitful, Joaquin,” though he added, “Good work.”

Joaquin’s face flushed in a wide smile and he brushed his hair. “Oh, stop, you make it sound like you’re really here just to see me.”

“We’re here for coffee,” Sam and Bucky both insisted.

Joaquin giggled. “Alright, I get it. Do I get the first invitation, though?”

Sam raised a brow, putting down his cup. “To… get back to work?”

“To your wedding,” Joaquin said in a loud whisper, eyes sparkling. “Can I bare the rings? Oh! I actually started an online course for ordainment-”

“Not a chance,” they both said again, and Bucky bumped Sam’s shoulder this time, earning an eye-roll.

“You’re already acting married,” Joaquin noted.

“Which is a secret if you want to be any louder,” Sam shot back. They all stared at each other tensely until a straw dropped, and they laughed.

~*~

After giving Joaquin a pat on the back (Bucky) and a warm hug (Sam), they took off on Bucky’s motorcycle, Redwing running a perimeter of the place as far as it went to the water. 

As Sam understood, the corps were in custody and not exactly being helpful, but they didn’t have their powers either, just like Gideon. Doc Green’s serum was the real deal, and Grey was right in that even if it didn’t create supersoldiers, the power to de-power and destabilize was just as priceless on the hidden markets. 

“Can I ask you something,” Sam said as they parked at what looked like an abandoned dock with a single suspicious boat.

Bucky nodded, waiting for Sam to put his helmet on the seat and kick off the bike.

“If there was a serum to make you… a typical human again, would you take it?”

Bucky’s brows raised high. “Wow, that’s, uh, loaded.”

“Just curious, really.” Sam checked his feed from Redwing and scanned the area. 

“I never thought it was possible,” he admitted.

Sam smiled. “Well, I love any version of you, by the way, extended lifespan or not.”

Bucky gave him a kiss, and then they focused on the task at hand; making their way down dirt-caked stepstones. The boat didn’t look booby-trapped at the least. Bucky stepped in first and then gave the okay. Inside, there was gasoline, supplies, and rations, classic villain style.

“Guess they were gonna make a quick getaway,” Sam mumbled, shining a flashlight in the small cabinets. Mostly empty.

“Look at this,” Bucky said. He had a burner phone in his hand and flipped it open.

“Oh shit.” Sam came over his shoulder. “You think they had accomplices?”

Bucky hummed, opening the messages. “At least one.”

I have a plane waiting in Florida - P.B.

Sam narrowed. “Surely, that ain’t peanut butter.”

“Or President Bush,” Bucky muttered.

Sam laughed. “Are you kidding?” He met Bucky’s smile, and then they both swallowed, facing the implications of those initials. “You think it’s the Power Broker …again?”

“Only one way to find out,” Bucky said as he pressed call.

Sam stilled himself, giving another surveillance look around the shore.

The line buzzed repeatedly, and then an encrypted voice answered: “I wasn’t expecting another call.”

Bucky eyed Sam. “Yeah… well, we got held up.”

A scoff. “I hear you’re imprisoned. Who is this?”

“The authorities,” Sam interjected, “Who is this?”

There was a pause, and then a chuckle. “No one that a bunch of heroes need to know.”

“Wait-” Bucky hissed, but the line ended. He called back and the number was already disconnected. Shit.

Sam sighed. “Ends don’t get deader than that.”

They filed out of the boat, sending a ping to Joaquin of its location, albeit the phone pocketed.

“Maybe not, they knew who we were,” Bucky mumbled as he climbed the hill to the bike, “After you said something.”

Sam shivered at the thought of that timing. “Nah, that’s just a coincidence.”

“How? You do have a charming voice,” Bucky said with a smirk, starting the engine, “Maybe some bad guy’s got a thing for that sweet honey.”

Sam scoffed as he sat behind him, putting on the helmet. “You’re in trouble. You want me engaged to an even bigger jerk? That’s it?”

Bucky laughed. “Hell no, and I’d like to see some fucking Power Broker try. I’m cutting all their lights off, doll.”

“Yeah, yeah, because power,” Sam refused to humor the joke.

Bucky hummed as Sam’s hands came around his middle. “Could reach out to old contacts, see who would be looking for some kind of new tech or serum.”

“Sharon might know,” Sam offered. Bucky shrugged before pulling off. 

Either way, it was time to give the chase a rest.

~*~

When they got back to Delacroix, the town was slow-moving and welcoming. Sam pulled AJ and Cass into tight hugs, and then the boys got to talk his and Bucky’s ear off about school and other adventures that seem to pop up for youth these days even in the short time they’d been gone.

Sam couldn’t help but look curiously over at Cass, wondering if he had anything else to share concerning his situation, but Sam decided to play it safe and wait. If Cass needed to open up to him more, Sam would be ready.

They shared one last tight hug, though, and Sam whispered, “Still got your back,” while Cass chuckled and said he knew.

They got back to the cottage, managing to bicker lovingly over little fixes like needing a real porch light and buying a real washing unit. Bucky still wanted to open up the bathroom wall and extend the room to fit a tub - which, okay, not a horrible idea to soak after long missions, but Sam vetoed the idea. 

Bucky huffed. “So, you’re not gonna let me build your honeymoon tub?”

Sam chuckled, looking down at the copies of files they’d been sent. “Pretty sure you said normal tub twenty minutes ago.”

“An hour,” Bucky muttered, putting a mug of coffee in his hands.

Sam stared at the paper, sipping. “Hmm?”

“An hour ago,” Bucky whispered closer in his ear, almost making him drop his drink.

“B-Bucky!”

Bucky didn’t budge, eyes dark blue and feral with something.

“We’ve gotta do all this work, baby, come on,” Sam grumbled as Bucky put the mug on the table and then manhandled him into his lap.

Sam wiggled, pouting as he straddled Bucky, arms with nowhere to go but around his shoulders. “Buuuck.”

“We have to wait regardless.”

“And if a new freaking… I don’t know… Godzilla springs up somewhere while we’re not doing paperwork?”

“Then we’ll get a call and receive a jet,” Bucky said calmly.

Sam made a dramatic sigh, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Bucky rubbed his hands along Sam’s back, breathing with him.

“It’s headaches, right? I know what those look like.”

Sam closed his eyes, taking in the soft rubs. “Can’t believe I have to deal with this, too. Like the job isn’t enough.”

Bucky smiled, pulling Sam forward. “Get comfortable.”

Sam rolled his eyes, accepting that Bucky wasn’t going to let him fuss over more files, and they repositioned themselves in silence until Bucky laid on the couch the long way and Sam laid against him, back pressed to Bucky’s chest.

Sam stared at the ceiling, watching the light change on the ceiling through the open windows, curtains tied to the corners. Suddenly, he felt the breeze and saw how bright and sunny of a day it was. 

“This is nice,” Sam admitted, releasing his tension, taking in Bucky’s soft kisses on his cheek. “A good break before we get back to work.”

Bucky chuckled in his ear. “You think I’m letting you get back to work?”

~*~

Sam stood under the faucet, grumbling to himself as he scrubbed every inch of his body. This ridiculous man, really, and I have to marry him?

If TT could see his life right now, she’d laugh and slap her knee, reckon how grown he’d gotten, call him her big Samuel, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t be on his side. In the face of Bucky, Wilsons tended to become turncoats and promptly wish the man good luck with Sam. 

Sam paused his scrubbing. Does that make Gideon the only one on my team? That thought somehow disturbed him more than anything, sending a shiver down his spine.

A knock came at the bathroom door from the Bucky in question.

“Oh, Sammy?” he asked in a singsong voice, “Need me to come in there?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m still getting ready!”

Because apparently being engaged meant spontaneous sex prep when you could be doing important work like reading through documents and dealing with calls from officials and whatever long text Rhodey had just sent him. He had a personalized ringtone at this point for most Avengers. It told Sam who to ignore or not.

“Check my phone, Buck!”

Bucky’s laugh met him. “Sam, really?”

Sam flinched as the door opened and Bucky smirked at him. He was covered in suds. At least three layers of the calming lavender blend and yet somehow he didn’t feel calm at all. This was supposed to be time for him to soap up and let himself feel sexy and…

“I can’t do it, Buck,” Sam sighed as Bucky stepped inside the bathroom. “What if… I don’t know…”

Bucky approached the glass, eyes gentler this time, and Sam watched him slowly take off his house clothes before entering the steamy chamber, cupping Sam’s face in his hands as the water ran through his hair. “It’s okay.”

Sam held onto Bucky’s wrists, shutting his eyes. “I want to, I promise, just when everything’s not exploding… not that it’ll ever stop…”

Bucky kissed his nose. “It’s not about the sex, Sam, it’s about helping you relax and get out of that pretty head.”

Sam couldn’t help but smirk. “Which head we talking about?”

Bucky laughed. “All of you. Come on, I want to use the good stuff on you.”

“We’re still talking platonic, right?” Sam asked as Bucky turned him around to scrub his back and rinse the soap off. 

When they were done, Sam looked like a shiny, clean man, and the bedroom smelled like rosemary, vanilla, and cedar. Sam moaned, inhaling it in. There was a bath towel spread over the bed waiting for him, and he slunk to it, guided by a hand on the side of his hip.

Sam sighed, flopping onto the warm softness, rolling onto his back as he watched Bucky pull out a few items, Bucky humming before getting in next to Sam. The room  did smell really nice, and there was a soft warm breeze coming from the cracked window. The sun sat high as if it would stay up as long as he needed. Alright, maybe the relaxation was working.

Bucky leaned over and kissed him once before spreading an aromatic lotion over his skin slowly and methodically. Sam let soft groans out as Bucky worked his calves. They always seemed to hold tension no matter how much he stretched, but it felt like heaven having them squeezed.

“God, Bucky,” Sam whined once mismatched fingers trailed down to his ankle, reaching the balls of his feet. Bucky smirked in accordance while Sam writhed. Finally, he finished that area and Sam released a breath. “Fuck, why am I already hard…”

“Because your fiance is giving you a massage. Turn.” Sam did, feeling Bucky’s hands trail up his thighs, making him bite his lip above the blush he felt.

“This can just be a massage, doll,” Bucky reminded him.

Sam groaned as Bucky made his way to his hips, moving his hands like a man simply spreading lotion, but it’s not like Sam could think about fuck else now that his brain was filled with blue lotus, rose, and the scent of Bucky touching too platonically with purpose. Bucky even managed to make it feel respectful as Sam moaned, turning back to look at him with burning eyes.

“Please, Bucky.”

Bucky swallowed, sitting back on his knees, wearing disrespectfully tight briefs. “Please what?”

Sam rolled onto his back, watching Bucky’s eyes drift down to his filled dick, lips wetting.

“You know what,” Sam said softly, trailing a hand down to grip himself. 

Bucky visibly tightened, expression hot as he huffed back, “Don’t know. Only know how to be platonic-”

“Bucky.”

“Ask me for it.”

Sam pursed his lip. “You really switch up when you top, baby.”

A low chuckle left Bucky, and he pushed Sam’s thighs slightly, having the nerve to put more lotion in his hands and rub Sam’s chest. 

“Bucky!”

“Come on, I got like three spots left.”

Sam grumbled, feeling Bucky hard through his briefs as he pressed against Sam, rubbing lotion on Sam’s chest and brushing his nipples, crotch inching closer before he bent in, their faces almost touching.

“You’re sure, sweetheart?”

Sam wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, saying in monotone, “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me so hard, want your big ol’ dick in me-”

Bucky kissed him hotly, earning a wet chuckle from Sam as their tongues met. And finally, Bucky’s hands grabbed him everywhere, lips devouring his face.

Sam moaned as Bucky grinded against him, gasping in surprise as they rolled over, Sam now on top of Bucky’s lap, smirking. “Oh, you want me to ride?”

“Needed this,” Bucky grunted, arm reaching for a bottle of lubricant, and then he flipped them over again, making Sam roll his eyes. “What? You like when I’m on top.”

Sam flushed. “What I’d like is some attention down below.”

Bucky smiled, wiggling out of his briefs, and then pressed against Sam who almost let out another frustrated groan before Bucky’s hand was gripping him. 

“Oh, fuck,” Sam gasped, jaw agape as Bucky stroked him firmly, sending sparks through his skin.

Bucky slowed, pulled Sam’s bottom lip with his teeth, and then Bucky reached under the pillow, revealing a long strip of silky fabric as thick as a tie.

“Baby, we can’t.”

“Baby, we can,” Bucky pecked Sam’s forehead before tying his wrists together.

Sam made a dramatic huff as if that stopped the fire in his stomach as he pulled his arms. The fabric resisting him, effectively tied. 

“You’re gonna behave for me this time, right?” Bucky asked casually, propping Sam’s knees up.

Bucky opened the bottle, the sound sensitive in Sam’s ears as he squished some lube onto his hand.

Sam bit his lip. “Yeah, okay-” he yelped as Bucky suddenly spread him wider and pressed his left thumb to Sam’s hole. “Oh, baby, more of that.”

Bucky only chuckled before kissing Sam’s lips, chin, and then chest, making Sam squirm. Bucky’s breath ghosted over his head before sucking his tip.

Sam jolted, thighs jerking, but Bucky held him, sucking him down and massaging him slowly, fingers and mouth moving as two separate entities joined only in the goal of getting Sam exactly where he needed to be.

Sam’s bound hands came down to Bucky’s hair and clutched the damp strands as he worked, growing more antsy and hot, pleasure building up in him. He felt Bucky’s voice reverberate off his skin as Bucky groaned enthusiastically.

Sam closed his eyes and stopped logging the movement, simply giving in to pleasure.

~*~

Bucky pumped his hips forward like it was his one job. Sam was useless in the climb toward his orgasm, eyes rolled back, somewhere else.

“Fuck,” Sam whined, arms around Bucky’s neck. His wrists were still tied, and endless staccato moans left him. 

Bucky glazed with a red face, sweat on his brow and needy. “Look at me, doll,” he whispered, bringing Sam’s face to his with a finger, “Sweetheart.”

“Bucky,” left Sam weakly as he released onto his stomach, gasping for breath. Bucky didn’t stop, only slowed to a heavy, punishing thrust that sent Sam to another realm. “I can’t- Oh, my-”

Bucky’s face broke. He groaned Sam’s name, sharp jaw parted as he came. Sam hugged Bucky’s shoulders, shuddering at cum filled him completely. He didn’t let go of Bucky even as Bucky collapsed over him, face in his shoulder, moaning Sam’s name.

“Don’t pull out.”

Bucky kissed his ear. “You want another round?”

Sam exhaled. “I don’t think I can take another one, baby.” 

Bucky only smiled into his skin, closing his eyes. They stayed like that together until Sam sighed, sheepishly adding, “But yeah…”

***

Chapter 24: Change

Summary:

Sam feels the winds of change as Gideon recovers. The engagement becomes more real.

Explicit out the gate

Notes:

Thank you guys for waiting

Sam kissed Bucky slowly, and Bucky sucked and kissed his lips back, moans in their mouths connecting as their hips met. It was scorching under the blankets, and Sam was full against him, moaning, “Over.”

Bucky paused with a brow raised.

“Sun in eye-”

They inched over to a shadier spot on the bed, allowing Bucky to reach for the lube, Sam smirking as he sat up. “You know, I’m technically fresh out of the hospital, baby, we should slow down.”

Bucky hummed as if he was thinking over it, squeezing a generous helping into his hand. “Pretty sure you were going, ‘Faster, Bucky,’ last night, doll.”

Sam rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance as he watched Bucky reach a hand back to lube himself up.

Sam’s dick jumped at that, and he bit his lip, mumbling, “Wanna see.”

Now Bucky smirked. “Thought you wanted to slow down,” and he sighed, hips moving slow over Sam’s thighs, eyes lusty. “Cause I don’t. I feel like I’m about to pass Go.”

Sam chuckled this time, pulling Bucky’s shoulders closer to kiss his chin. “That’s what this is? You taking a ride on the game of Life?”

Bucky nipped his nose. “No games here, doll. I’m gonna be a married man, it’s time I collect.”

“Alright, power ranger,” Sam jeered, leaning back into the pillows, “Give me a sneak peek of the honeymoon.”

Licking his lips, Bucky pushed his hands against Sam’s chest, kissing on his ears and down under the crease of his chin, feeling the deep rumble of a groan in Sam’s neck.

Sam was hard against him, accepting the kisses as they turned softer. Bucky whispered, “Gonna give you everything, sweetheart.”

“Baby, just ride,” Sam whispered back, twitching in anticipation, “Come on, love.”

Bucky left a peck between Sam’s brows before leaning back and guiding Sam to his entrance, dripping on Sam’s stomach as he groaned, sinking in. 

Sam moaned deeper, hands clutching Bucky's hips as he started a slow ride. “Fuck, baby, just like that.”

Sam knew immediately he wouldn’t last long, watching Bucky’s eyes deepen with longing and love as he slowly brought his fingers to Sam’s jaw.

“Look at me,” Bucky demanded, riding a little faster as he held Sam. His grip was firm enough to keep Sam looking at him, and Sam felt heat course through himself at that.

“Baby-” Sam squinted. “Can’t-”

“Come for me.”

Sam whined in his mouth as Bucky kept his steady pace, loosening his fingers to allow Sam’s mouth to part in a moan. He couldn’t take it, lids flickering as he spasmed under Bucky, rolling his eyes in relief as he came, bits of tension pulled from his body.

Bucky had a satisfied look on his face, flinching as Sam’s hand reached down to finish him. “Ah-ah, doll, want to come in you.”

Sam pouted as Bucky slowly pulled out, shivering from the sensitivity.

“Baby-”

“Mine,” Bucky whispered, giving Sam a kiss before positioning himself.

Sam huffed as his knees were pushed to the sides of Bucky’s waist, bits of high tingling through him.

Bucky smiled, reaching a hand down to rub lubricant at Sam’s hole, a little soft from last night, and he added, “You don’t know how much I love this, doll.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Getting doubles?”

“Being engaged,” Bucky murmured, Sam biting back a hiss as he prodded inside, “So hard just thinking about pleasing you, riding you, fuck–” he bit his lip, “-for the rest of my life. How did I get so lucky?” he whispered hoarse, eyes watering.

Sam hugged his shoulders, closing his eyes as Bucky pushed his legs gently and readied himself.

“Please look at me, doll.”

Sam tried, feeling his lip quiver as Bucky slowly filled him, grunting as he bottomed out. Sam groaned with him, finally meeting Bucky’s soft smile. “Don’t cry, hun.”

“Shut up, you’re the one crying,” Sam shot back, teeth clenching as Bucky leaned in to kiss him. He kept his eye contact as he thrust in, Sam keening from the pleasure.

Bucky chuckled and then his breath hitched and Sam watched his composure break as his orgasm washed over him, lips parted and rocking in slowly, sending Sam's nerves wild before he slowed to a stop.

They stayed like that for a moment before Bucky sighed, lowering his head to Sam’s shoulder again. “Gimme a minute…”

Sam laughed. “I don’t have another ride in me.” Bucky peeked at him, the blue in his eyes feral with something as Sam felt him half-harden, taking a swallow. “Jesus, Bucky.”

~*~

Sam decided to work in bed the rest of the morning for personal reasons.

Luckily, he had an automatic backdrop on his video, but that didn’t really help the stiffness in his back. Days in a hospital bed… plus Bucky… really wasn’t helping.

Bucky cracked the door open as Sam responded to an official’s question, skillfully adding, “I absolutely agree with Colonel Rhodes’s point.”

Rhodes smiled, PR-ready, and while one couldn’t be sure someone on a group call was glaring at you specifically, Sam knew and gave back a press-passing smile.

Sam paused his meeting video, and Bucky placed another coffee mug in his hands. Then Sam motioned Bucky closer for a quick kiss.

“We exposing ourselves to the suits?” Bucky asked, sliding in next to him. “Not that I mind.”

“So they can have more ammunition? Frozen, plus Rhodes kindly volunteering to reiterate his last five points.”

Bucky rolled his eyes in a smile. “I think we should go on a date. Lookin’ nice outside, and… got a notice from Hill that our vacation pay ends this week. Yeah, she’s still pissed.”

Sam scoffed. “I told you white folks don’t get over anything.”

“Hey-” Bucky paused. “Ugh, yeah. Pretty sure I’m still pissed at the guy who price-hiked me beer in like '31. Sonuvabitch.”

They both laughed, and then Bucky pushed himself up. Sam watched his back as he left, smiling until someone asked Sam’s name on the screen.

Exhale.

Back to work. He unfroze himself and raised both brows, “Sorry about that, connectivity issues. How exactly is that enough to fund Gulf Coast rescue? Katrina got more than that.”

~*~

When Sam finished, he had lunch at the counter with Bucky, two beers with sandwiches.

Knock-knock.

Sam raised a brow. “You expecting someone?”

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Bucky sped to the door, calling back, “Meant to tell you Sarah was dropping by.” 

Sam softened, ready to greet her with a smile, thank her again for bringing occasional snacks to the hospital. The place seemed to try its best, but most hospitals still were serving basic cafeteria, save for the random ice cream events for the kids (and Bucky).

Sarah entered, bringing with her a rain cloud that immediately made Sam push from his stool, sharing concerned looks with Bucky. “You good, Rah?”

She nodded, taking off her shoes and heading toward the sink.

Sam couldn’t help but get in her path, “Rah?”

She hit him in the stomach, hissing, “Why didn’t you tell me, Samuel?” 

Bucky paused, brows high.

“Um-” Sam stuttered. “O-okay, I probably deserved that-” he swallowed, noting the unspoken log of sibling offenses, then his mouth dried as he met Bucky's look. “Oh.”

Sarah exhaled.

Sam placed his hands on her shoulders. “W-what… happened?”

Sarah growled, pulled reluctantly into his hug as he patted her back. Sam was already running through scenarios, hoping this was what he thought it was. But also that it only went well, because he hadn’t prepared himself for any other outcome.

“Cass… told me he’s ace,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

Sam breathed with her as Bucky approached, eyes sympathetic.

“I spent like two hours just googling… it, I don’t super understand.”

Sam closed his eyes, keeping his hold. “Do you want me to explain more to you? I… I didn’t mean to keep it from you, Sarah. I- We encouraged him to tell you,” he swallowed, “I told him that you love him regardless.”

Sarah pushed away enough to squint at him. “Sam, of course, I still love him. He’s my boy, and I’d never let him think I won’t try to understand!”

Sam smiled, surprised himself at the wave of emotion crashing into him as she let him go. That he could feel so relieved that his nephew could know this love and support. A small part of him mourned what he couldn’t have dreamed of at that age. He watched her wash her hands at the sink as he stilled himself.

“I’m glad,” he whispered, “Thank you, Sarah.”

She gave him a tired smile over his shoulder. “I was surprised. I kind of wish he would’ve just told me sooner. I was jumping to all types of stuff. You know how dumb we were as kids.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle, grateful for the heat of Bucky’s hand on his back, making him take a deep breath. “Well, not too dumb, but, yeah.”

“How, um, did you take it?” Bucky asked.

Sarah flinched, making Sam wince. “Rah…”

“I- I don’t know!” She quickly dried her hands, looking more uncomposed than he was used to. “He told me a minute before saying ‘Love you’ and getting on the bus! What was I supposed to say!?”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh, Bucky managing to hold his. 

“Don’t laugh!” Sarah threw her hands up. “I’m blaming Wilson men for this ridiculousness.”

Bucky finally cracked, and they were both shoved on the chest, grinning back at her before guiding her to a seat with a half sandwich and opening a beer for her.

“He was probably nervous,” Bucky said, leaning against the counter, tipping his own beer.

Sam agreed. “It is your loved ones opinions that weigh the most.”

Sarah sighed, accepting the food. “I just hope I’m doing the right thing. I didn’t even know what a squish was until like today.”

“A… squish?”

Bucky chimed. “You know, like a person you feel platonic, uh, feelings, for.”

“Bucky, I’m the one who told you.” Sam nudged him. “But we weren’t made aware of that…”

“You think it’s the same little dude?” Bucky asked.

“-who is age-appropriate,” Sam added as Sarah looked surprised.

“So, he is gay?”

Bucky choked a little on his drink.

“N-not exactly,” they both said at the same time.

Sarah put her face in her hands. “I’m gonna say the wrong thing.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, coming around to rub her back as she groaned, remembering the few times he was actually able to act like he was older than her, which he was, never mind the blip.

“Relax, let your big brother help… you’re a good mom.”

Bucky smiled, too, eyeing them.

~*~

A couple of weeks passed.

“Hello Wilsons,” Rhodes said as his face appeared on the screen.

Bucky leaned over the Wilson couch, tilting his head.

Sam made a big sigh. “Who told you?”

“Your protege.”

“I’m taking the wings back,” Sam started, getting up.

Bucky chuckled, pushing Sam's shoulder back down. “You’re the one who blurted it out to the whole world first, Samuel.”

Rhodes looked at Sam surprised. “And I find out just now?”

“Not the whole word, just… Joaquin, Bucky, some unconscious green guys.”

“Plus a S.W.O.R.D. agent.”

“Bucky!”

Rhodes shook his head. “Y’all cut me deep; I'm out here doing my due diligence and the least I could get is an invite. Plus one. It’ll be kid-friendly, right? Cause your nephews. I can bring my niece, she’s been itching for a nice trip in the sun.”

Sam groaned. “We’re not even planning it yet-” he side-eyed Bucky. “I’m not. I’m back at work and saving the world.”

Rhodes sighed. “Whatever you say, you know my address. E-invite is popular now, too. Though, streaming it would be efficient.”

Bucky gestured. “That’s what I was thinking!”

When Sarah bustled in through the back door, Sam sighed in relief. “Sarah’s here if you want to-” he motioned, and Rhodes nodded, giving her a polite smile and adjusting his tie. 

“Great, um, I do have good news, to preface. By the jurisdiction of the United States military, your brother can and will be pardoned for all prior actions connected with the members of the Gamma Corp. Given that its existence…”

Sam nodded as Rhodes continued, reading from a long sheet of paper and then finally sighing. “I’m saying he can go home.”

They sighed in relief, Sarah holding Sam’s hand, Bucky taking his other. 

“I understand he's due for a transfer to the Delacroix General Hospital,” Rhodes added, “I did put in a request for special transport, but-”

“Thank you, Rhodey,” Sam said, really meaning it, “We’ll make sure his transfer goes well.”

Rhodes affirmed them and then his secretary pinged him that he had a meeting soon. “Good luck, you all. Sarah,” he finished with a polite smile.

Sam ‘phew’ed as the projection cut, Redwing beeping in the corner. “So, which one of y’all wants to go pick up that asshole?”

Bucky laughed first.

Sarah shook her head. “Y’all Wilson men stay a problem.”

“Hey, I’m a Wilson man.” Sam bumped her shoulder. “And you’re literally about to be a Wilson man, Buck.” 

Bucky stopped laughing, taking an offended look mirroring Sam.

Sarah only rolled her eyes. “Get out.”

~*~

The Delacroix hospital was clean and the energy was calm as Sam paced through the halls, checking the familiar room numbers. He vaguely remembered being there as a teenager for minor issues, for his first check-in during a bad episode, visiting Leila after she’d gotten appendicitis, and drawing on her with an expo marker while they talked about comics. And then seeing his parents for the last time, and his TT, one by one. 

The walls felt heavy and he swallowed down the feeling, focusing on the light at the end of the hallway until he reached Gideon’s room, smiling when he heard Sarah bicker with him.

“You old fool, accept the help!”

Sam chuckled, pushing open the door, pausing their dispute. They’d argue like that while younger, Sarah always being brave enough to raise her voice. She might have been younger, now older, but Sam admired that about her. Though, he definitely wasn’t about to let her be right.

“Sarah, the man’s pushing ninety. Let him breathe,” Sam defended.

Sarah hollered out a laugh as Gideon shook his head, her letting go of the pillows she was fussing with. “A strong independent ninety,” she concurred, and Sam couldn't hold his laugh.

Gideon pursed his lips. “Y’all ain’t never respected your elder brother a day in your lives.”

Sarah’s phone beeped. “Alright, I’ve gotta get AJ from his practice. Make sure y’all eat them dumplings.” She gave them both a kiss on the cheek, and then Sam was left alone with Gideon, the discomfort becoming somewhat usual.

“Brother.”

Sam decided to go ahead and sit down near him, opening the lunch container that Sarah left, the aroma inviting and savory like their mom used to make. “How’re you holding up?”

Gideon shrugged. “Still here as He wills it.”

Sam nodded, Gideon the meal before giving him the minutely smaller half.

“I get that. Literally just got back from…” Sam sighed. “Don’t even want to talk about it. It’s like half the stuff in the movies is real at this point.” Like the blob.

Sam only came in alone because Bucky was still at the facility handling debriefing and decontaminating in one of Bruce’s chambers. It had really gotten everywhere.

Gideon nodded, narrowing at their portions. “You’re still doing that little job.”

“Big job, mind you.” Sam sat down, forking a piece into his mouth. Chicken and cabbage. “Someone’s got to. Saved your ass.”

“Like I asked you to.”

Sam made a face at him, and they ate in silence, Gideon managing to make eating the food look grumpy even though it was tasty. “The boys visiting?”

Gideon softened a little. “They’re taking to the word.”

“That’s good for them.”

“It isn’t too late for you.”

“Gideon-” Sam tightened. “Come on, we haven’t fought over this in…” Months, really.

“I mean for your personal well-being, brother. Lord Have Mercy.”

Sam released a bit of tension. “You’re right- You didn’t-” he sighed, rubbing his brow. “Just a little sleep-deprived, that’s all.”

Though, the stress of the elephant in the room didn’t help.

“Um, so Dr. Nyongo told me about-”

“No.”

Sam bit his tongue, raising his fork. “You didn’t even let me explain!”

“I don’t need no craft and magic nothing.”

This old ass- Sam exhaled.

“It’s technology, and the Wakandans are a lot more open to sharing it to help others, especially like us. You know, they realigned my whole back after the blip?”

Though, Bucky seemed to have the same goal lately.

“Plus, Dr. Nyongo is Wakandan. She’s been training and she could oversee it here. You wouldn’t even have to travel.”

Gideon glared at him.

“I’m just saying… it’d save you recovery time…”

“I’ll heal on God’s time, Samuel, leave it alone.”

Sam couldn’t, pushing up from his chair. “Look, you want to suffer on some holier-than-thou mess, fine, go ahead, but I feel like-” he sighed, “Like you’re just trying to punish yourself, Gideon.”

Gideon’s jaw tightened and Sam closed the container in his hands, putting it to the side. He turned to the window, taking a breath before saying, “I didn’t mean it… when I said I’d never forgive you. I was angry and… sad,” Sam glanced back, “Still am about… this, but I’m not going to just watch you suffer for nothing.”

Silence filled the room, and Sam felt like maybe their conversation was over, at least the part he’d wished to say. His eyes fell on a short stack of journals. They looked old, dusty, the top cover frayed and gray.

He asked, “You write?”

Gideon looked somewhere else, and then answered, “Jim’s.”

Sam blinked, brows drawing up high in surprise. “R-really?” The somber expression made him regret asking. “Sor-”

“They’re from… that green man.”

Sam picked his brain, scrolling over quite a few green people he’d managed to meet in these couple of months and, oh.

“Bruce.” Sam softened. “He… spent a lot of time with JJ.”

Gideon nodded, brow knit. “There’s not much on me so far, just dreams, all the ones I didn’t let him have.”

“He loved you, Gid.”

“Just didn’t know how to say it.”

Sam’s eyes glossed, staring at the covers. “I know.”

~*~

Three months flew by crawling out of high-stress situations amidst random questions Bucky asked about the big day. After finding his way back into the limelight, Sam felt less and less eager to do wedding planning. He had a Crawfish Broil to plan as well, though, technically Sarah said she was doing that.

“Y-you sure you don’t need any-”

“Samuel Wilson, I won’t tell you again to get your hands out of my domain! I ain’t need your help then and I don’t need it now. Scoot!”

Gideon wasn’t on Sam's side, having already been hit with a throw pillow after complaining about the broil itself. Sam sat on the couch opposite him, glaring at an old film about Moses parting the sea. It was only a matter of-

“I don’t suppose you’re taking a vacation to be having time for crawfish.”

There he went.

Sam tisked. “Once again, chasing your raggedy ass was a part of my vacation.”

Gideon eyed him judgingly.

Sam ignored it, tossing a pillow at him. “And, well…” He wanted to tell Gideon maybe the truth, that he was engaged, but it didn’t feel right. Sam didn’t even know if it mattered. Instead, came out, “I might be a mutant.”

Gideon eyed him crazy, and then suddenly angry. “You better not have-”

Sam gaped. “That’s your level of faith in me? I didn’t take a damn serum!” Sigh. “I have these, like, voices, Gideon… it’s birds.”

A low croak left Gideon, and Sam almost bolted from the couch into rescue mode before he realized it was laughter, the old fool laughing like something was hilarious.

“So, you like birds that much you can talk to them now?” Gideon choked, hitting his knee.

“I don’t like you.”

Gideon smirked, mood seeming a lot better now. “Guess I should tell you.”

Sam narrowed. 

“TT said she could talk to animals, once. Told me while she was drunk after, uh, that Brookes’ homecoming event. After the baptism.” 

“Now you’re fucking with me. I’m going home. Good night.”

Sarah rolled her eyes.

Sam slunk back home with his tail between his legs. Bucky kissed him, rubbed his back, and put on the latest gay Disney movie as they cuddled up together with hot cocoa. And, well, Sam was starting to really feel like a fiance. Like a difficult day could be melted away in those kisses.

Sam sighed again, laying in Bucky’s lap as Bucky rubbed his head, thinking how funny it was that a simple movie was how everything started.

“What’s wrong, hun?”

Sam grumbled, rolling onto his back. “I think TT was like a Disney princess. Gideon claims she could talk to small animals.”

Bucky held his face for two seconds before snorting.

“You know what, I’m returning you to the store,” Sam rolled back onto his side, pouting.

Bucky laughed harder. “Doll, there's no way he’s not fucking with you.”

But what if he isn’t?

~*~

The day arrived and Sam took deep breaths, giving himself a pep talk in the mirror, puffing up his chest and nodding. 

“Honey-dearest?”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, finally satisfied with his cleaned-up appearance, glancing at Bucky’s reflection.

Bucky sighed. “I don’t know if we want orange or purple balloons.”

Sam grimaced. “Neither. Buck, can we please put wedding stuff and saving the world aside for one whole day? Pretty please?”

“Kay,” Bucky murmured, “Picked out your red shirt.”

“You’re wearing red.”

“Oh, now we can’t match?”

“We are not those gay uncles.”

Bucky grumbled before the door shut, and Sam groaned at himself in the mirror. Think good thoughts, it’s just a crawfish broil.

They had breakfast together, Sam reluctantly agreeing to wear red but in different items. Sam had red shorts on and a white tee while Bucky sported a burgundy tight henley with jeans. At least now Sam didn’t feel like Thing 1 and Thing 2.

They went to the broil.

It wasn’t big, but there were enough people to make it a town event, really, everyone who usually went to church on Sunday, and Sam spent a lot of time shaking hands and giving hugs. He knew that most knew about his relationship with Bucky by now, but older folks seemed to regard Bucky as that additional Wilson who was good at fixing things and for some reason liked to buy ice cream cakes in hot summer.

A nice surprise was seeing Rhodes and his niece Lila arrive with mannerly smiles, a little awkward but easily falling into the welcoming atmosphere.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind, your sister invited me,” Rhodes said, and Sam pulled him into a warm hug, clapping him on the back.

“That’s perfectly fine, man. Welcome to you both.”

Rhodes’s shoulders relaxed a full inch, pausing as AJ ran by with a group of kids, stopping over Rhodes’s leg braces, and then his eyes filled with stars and his mouth opened wide.

“Y-you fly the really big robot!” AJ gasped before Sam could stop him.

“Ah- AJ, I think that’s not how we address people-” Sam tried, face flushing.

Rhodes burst into a laugh, surprising Sam. Bucky paused his keke with the book club, looking over with a funny grin. Sam smiled as well, admitting he hadn’t seen that man laugh and seem to really mean it in forever, if even ever.

Lila tightened at Rhodes’s side as AJ widened. “Do you want to play volleyball!?”

She shrugged coolly. “I guess.”

Rhodes hesitated. “Call if you need- anything.” She shrugged again, and Rhodes gave her a wave before exhaling. “Sorry, she’s just- You know up north-”

Sam smiled, knowing small anecdotes that Rhodes's niece had been through a lot before settling with him, having lost both of her parents. “I get it. One thing AJ’s gonna do is make a kid have fun. The food’s still warm but I’ll show you where Sarah is.”

Once Sam dropped Rhodes off, he suspiciously raised an eyebrow as Rhodey and Sarah smiled at each other, standing there a bit awkwardly. Then Sam went to find Bucky sitting with Cass, the two playing a tabletop game.

“Who’s winning?” Sam asked putting his legs into the wooden bench, 

“Not really how D&D works, Uncle Sam,” Cass mumbled, looking seriously over the board. Sam smiled, taking a sip of Bucky’s lemonade and leaning on his shoulder. 

“Saw Rhodes came,” Bucky said, playing a card and rolling his dice.

Sam only made a grunt, deciding not to voice his suspicions. Instead, he watched them play, not really keeping up with the different characters, finally asking, “So… how’s it going with the squish?”

Cass made a great sigh. “I knew I shouldn’t have cast that spell,” he pushed up his glasses before answering, “Fine. He agreed to the maximum threshold of hand-holding.” 

Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Which is?”

“Three minutes per day.”

“Wow,” Sam’s brows raised, “It’s good he’s respecting your boundaries.”

Bucky grinned, rolling his dice. “Pretty sure I had a squish on Uncle Sammy once.” Sam rolled his eyes, bumping his leg. “And, well, now we’re engaged.”

Sam looked back at Cass, meeting a mortified look. “Uncle Bucky,” he said with grave eyes, “I’m too young to become a superhero and get married.”

Sam held his laugh.

 

When Sam checked on the food again, he met a visage that made him glare. Rhodes was laughing at the table, making all the elders chuckle, pointing at the plate of Sarah’s cooking. “And y’all are eating like this every day!? Come on!”

Sarah laughed and Sam could tell she was blushing, and he felt like the sky was going to fall. I know this man isn’t flirting with my sister in broad daggone daylight! Rhodes was going to get a talking to later.

 

Like most long Delacroix days, it had to eventually end.

~*~

Sam stood outside Gideon’s apartment, watching him clean dirt off his car with a rag. Of course, he didn’t let Sam help. Sam stood by, feeling like he was peeking from the stairs while Pa secretly taught Gideon to gamble, watching Gideon focus sharply, forming his own opinions about things. 

Finally, Gideon looked satisfied with his work. The shine was so clear that an angel would probably see its own reflection and blush. It was a holy-mobile, and it brought the great winds of change.

Sam stepped closer, inspecting it. “So, you’re really leaving.”

Gideon nodded. “That’s the plan, brother. Fingers off.”

Sam scoffed, pocketing his hands and surveying the empty street lit by a haze of orange streaks in the sky. “You still gonna preach?”

A chuckle. “Of course.”

“Just not here… with me here.”

Gideon paused, glancing at Sam before he lit a cigar. “Everything ain’t about you, brother. Traveling made me understand I may be needed in many places, ‘s all.”

“Well, the boys are gonna miss you… and Sarah,” Sam mumbled, kicking at a couple of rocks. “Tommy… probably Carlos…”

Gideon exhaled a puff of smoke, the smell familiar. “I’ll be back if He wills it.”

Sam nodded, unsure of what to say. “I guess this is it… for now, I mean.”

For a moment, Gideon paused and looked at him crazy, the expression comical to the beard he’d grown back. “Sammy, are you seriously getting sentimental right now?” 

“I’m not!”

“You can’t stand me.”

Sam puffed his chest, a step closer. “That’s right, I can’t! Go on and git!”

Gideon laughed hard as Sam crossed his arms. “You’re damn childish, Sam.” He shook his head like a big brother watching the most ridiculous thing.

“You’re no better,” Sam grumbled.

Gideon shook his head, opening his arms in a gesture. “Hurry up.”

With grumbles, Sam entered his stupid nose-in-the-air hug, smelling his foresty cologne and a scent like apples, the cigar smoke embedded into his leather jacket. They let go, and Sam took a step back, watching him put his bucket of water and soap to the side.

“Those better be actual baptisms, and not you doing super-villain mess…”

Gideon smirked as he dusted his hands off. “Fly high, black falcon.”

They shook hands, and Gideon nodded to Sam, eyes slowly falling into a glare landing on Bucky. He started toward his car, taking a breath pausing after loading the luggage.

“Barnes,” Gideon growled, shoulders nearly turned.

Bucky straightened.

“Watch his back.”

Sam was surprised, feeling a lump form in his throat. 

“He’s my brother and… he doesn’t ever plan ahead. Thinks he alone can save the whole world. Just…” Gideon exhaled. “Take care of this idiot since you’re stupid enough to stay with him…”

“Always,” Bucky said back.

Gideon nodded once before he got into his car, giving Sam a once look back, and then Sam watched his Cadillac roll forward over the cobblestones until it turned onto the main road, and like a passing storm, Gideon shrunk into a spec of dust.

Sam exhaled, feeling emotion strike him, jaw tight as he balled his fists. This was the man he’d grown up with, who he wanted to make proud at one point, sometimes wanted to be like until he’d figured out his own version of being a man. Who’d stepped in when Pa passed and smiled when Sam graduated from the Air Force Academy. 

He’s really gone.

Bucky stood next to Sam as he released a breath.

“You think he’ll come to the wedding?” 

Sam’s sadness paused like a record, and Sam groaned, “Fuck, I forgot to tell him we’re engaged.” On second thought, maybe it was a good thing Gideon left…

Bucky snickered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Sam, I think he knows since everyone else does.”

Sam grimaced, many Avenger team meetings coming back to him, and the embarrassment of sly giggles around the table. “I don’t know why I decided to forget that Joaquin can’t keep a secret… blurting that out…” Sam leaned against Bucky’s shoulder, accepting his comfort.

“Maybe he’ll ordain it.” Bucky smirked.

“Now you’re fucking with me.” Sam rolled his eyes. “God, there’s way too much to do. Can we just postpone it for another five years?”

“Our wedding, Sam?”

“Yeah… we’re both type A so we’ll have to have every little thing perfect, invite the right people… but not while the world’s ending. What if a freaking monster attacks New York while we’re getting hitched? Should we have different weddings for who can and can’t make it?”

“Wong’s coming; he can definitely portal any Avenger out in an emergency.”

Sam paused. “You sent our first invitation to Wong?”

Bucky nodded again.

“Fuck, you think quick, baby.”

A wink met him. “I’ve got this in the bag, doll. I didn’t tell you, but… I’ve scoped out caterers, a couple venues, and maybe some performers, just to keep stuff interesting. Sam, tell me anything you want, and I’ll make it happen. All you’ve got to do is check yes or no. If you don’t know and just want a wedding, I’ll give you a damn wedding.” Bucky grinned, sparkles in his eyes. “This is amazing, Sam, it’s like a mission-“

“A mission!?”

Bucky blushed. “I mean, yeah. If it’s successful I get to keep you for the rest of my life. Plus flowers.”

Sam’s eyes glossed, laughing as tears threatened to fall. “Those are important… the fucking flowers.”

“Yeah, the flowers.” Bucky pulled him in, thumbing under his eyes. Their lips met, and he didn’t let go, breathing into the kiss.

Sam clung on, feeling like a man who was about to be happy for the rest of his life. Sure, a vampire somewhere was biting someone’s neck. The loch-ness monster was about to make a reappearance. A squirrel found its way into the Wilson roof. Rhodes was secretly texting Sarah. 

Cass was starting high school and bickering back and forth with his - quote on quote - “squish,” Tate. Janet was making a breakthrough in the control of her powers. Leila was going to call him about a scoop, asking for insider information, and he’d once again say, “No, Taylor!” Not to mention the blue jays outside his window grilling him about his relationship. 

There was so much to worry about yet Sam wanted for nothing else. With Bucky, he had all his heart could wish for and every bit of happiness he could dream of. He really did feel like a prince, like he’d always have his perfect ending.

“I love you,” Sam whispered finally, eyes opening, “In every universe.”

Bucky grinned. “You’d better with how much this wedding is gonna cost. Wong’s stipulation was that we book Beyonce.”

Sam suddenly laughed, and Bucky smiled painfully. “God, you’re serious.”

“Still love me?”

“Ugh, if I must.”

“So, yes?”

“Yes.” Sam rolled his eyes, smiling.

Bucky, smoother than a fox, slid to one knee as Sam took a deep breath, shaking his head. He held a small box with two dark shiny rings. “You will marry me, right?”

Sam laughed. “Jesus, Buck, I already said yes!”

-End-

Notes:

Afternote-
Okay! We are finally at the END. LOL, I feel like this took forever but I am satisfied here and 😭 it hit right in the kokoro. I'm pretty sure I tied up most ends, anything else 😌 shall be attuned to the mystery of gay.

One thing to look forward to is a wedding planning one shot, but I do have a bit of an incomplete queue going 😅. Still, I'm a sucker for the chaos!

Do please tell me your thoughts, given how long this story has been. Especially y'all day 1 readers. Was this cathartic? 👀 Left more to be desired? Tune in next time for the mess.