Signed, Sealed, Delivered

by notedthoughts

Summary:

Bucky had a difficult job before being a firefighter that he completely refused to speak about, and now that he had quit being a firefighter too, he finally thought he would have a calm life. That was until an intruder broke into his apartment, wearing the strangest of clothes, and wow, Bucky really shouldn't drink so much if this is what he was seeing. They end up getting close, but are they both being completely honest?

Chapter 1: one

Bucky was normal.

At least, that’s what he keeps repeating to himself in the mirror each day.

Sure, he had a secretive history and mostly kept to himself, but he was normal nonetheless. It wasn’t everyday that someone would go around New York City and see a man with a metal arm that's way too powerful for his own good (they wouldn’t. Bucky never went out without hiding it). It had been almost 12 years since Bucky had lost his arm in a work incident, and 3 years since he quit his job due to another work incident at a different job. His second job, Bucky was a firefighter and it had been his ideal way of living for 8 years since he was 26; a handsome bachelor who saved people constantly and had every woman or man chasing after him. Before being a firefighter, he worked in a more… governmental job, but found that he wanted to save lives instead of…anyways. Being a firefighter was great, so who would want anything else?

Well, it seemed like fate wasn’t on Bucky’s side when he’d been trapped in an unnecessarily tall apartment complex fire, his left side completely torched and his metal arm had luckily taken the brute force of it all. He took it upon himself to jump out the window without any warning to the other members of the team, who couldn’t see Bucky’s side of the building either way due to the sheer amount of smoke that was building from the fire, and when he was expecting to flail through the air aimlessly, he had been proved incorrect. A phenomenon happened, one that nobody ever believed him in. A large group of birds, crows, he believed, pinched at the edges of his uniform, faltering a bit with his weight until they found a comfortable holding and rested him gently (well, as gently as they could) to the concrete, a safe distance from the disaster at hand. They then squawked raucously until someone took attention to the burning man on the ground. It was a story Bucky could barely believe himself, but it was true. Even if nobody trusted him in it.

His recovery had taken a long time, both mentally and physically, and the burn scars that added to the previous scars on his left shoulder were so repulsive to the point that Bucky had to close his eyes every time the nurses changed his gown. It had also turned out that him staying alive had affected the people of that building immensely. 10 people had died in that complex, 7 of them while he was inside. A child was amongst those 7, and the mother had run up to Bucky after seeing him carried out by other firefighters, sobbing and screaming why couldn’t you save my son? Why did you survive but not my baby? Although he knew there was realistically no way he couldn’t have gotten to the child with how powerful the fire was, the words stuck with him, and when he got back to the job, he couldn’t put his whole heart into it. So, eventually, he ended up quitting the squad, although his best pal Steve, had been trying to encourage him not to. Steve had been a large help throughout the process, staying by his side throughout the whole thing and even before the incident, Steve had gotten him out of a bad situation with his old job, and got him to join firefighting instead. However, it still wasn’t enough to convince Bucky to continue something that still made him afraid to sleep at night. Besides, he had ended up with a generous sum of money after people heard of the ’Hero firefighter who had miraculously survived in a raging fire’ and donated to support Bucky in the trying time. A lot of the money he donated to the surviving families, but he kept some for himself. Life at the moment was comfortable. He was comfortable.

Well, that was until Steve started rambling in their usual bar about a crazy work story where a child had gotten stuck in a chimney whilst trying to look for Santa. In the middle of September. It was truly an eventful story, but Bucky had been frustrated, and maybe a bit jealous, by the third firefighting story of the night. When they went out, Steve had always told him work stories, still trying to keep him involved, and Bucky had never felt any notable annoyance at it previously, but this night he was tired and wanted to go home. Which must be the reason why he had been unconsciously drinking so much and getting progressively more and more drunk throughout the night. And probably why Steve stopped his story with a worried expression on his face.

“Buck, you okay?” Steve lifted an eyebrow, and Bucky began to nod his head but felt a bit queasy at the movement. He gripped onto the bar countertop to steady himself on the stool.

“Yeah…yeah,” He definitely was not. “I just…I think I should be getting home. I have a shift tomorrow.” Bucky stood, grabbing his leather jacket, and getting annoyed when it didn’t slip easily over the glove on his left hand. Tugging harder and harder, he groaned until a tentative had reached out and pulled the jacket’s sleeve over the hand easily.

“Your shift is only in the afternoon, Buck. I could drive you, you know? You’re not too far from me.” Steve suggested, and Bucky shook his head, and wow, he really needed to stop with the vigorous head movement.

“No… it’s fine. The walk will probably help me sober up. I’ll see you…later?” Bucky replied, not even giving Steve the chance to reach out and stop him before he turned around and walked out of the bar to be hit with the humid city air. Taking a deep breath, Bucky began walking, way too aware of how his feet were slightly drifting out of a normal walking position, and way too conscious of how his semi-long hair was beginning to stick to his forehead and becoming quite irritating by each second. He tried to look up from the filthy concrete, but it seemed like each person he encountered had glanced at him in some way. He felt as if everyone walking past knew that he was the guy, that guy who had lost any sense of enjoyment he had after a tragic incident that had to be some sort of karma for who he was in the past. The guy that has nightmares about lives he couldn’t save, and how he couldn’t save himself. The stupid, stupid guy that truly believed that birds had come and saved his life. Jesus Christ, maybe he wasn’t recovering as well as he had thought. Sighing shakily, Bucky kept walking down the sidewalk, maybe a little more drunk than he’d thought as he was rather swaying than walking, his vision blurry and confusing, and, fuck, he probably should’ve taken Steve up on his offer to take him home because he was really starting to feel faint. His eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier and he knew he wasn’t going to make it to his apartment before passing out, so Bucky put his life in fate’s hands, like that’s ever gone well, and leaned against a store’s window, sliding down and letting his eyes flutter closed when he hit the ground.

————————

It was still dark when Bucky woke up, a crick in his back and his head pounding. He probably shouldn’t have drank so much at the bar. The moonlight shone through the windows overlooking the city, the glimmer making Bucky more aware that he was in fact not in his bedroom and was laying on the couch, his feet over the arm of the couch while his head was on the other end, resting on a pillow. Huh. He hadn’t remembered getting home. The last memory of his was when he slid down the window of that store and rested his eyes; perhaps he made the rest of the journey dazed and couldn’t make it to the bedroom, or maybe Steve saw him, as he hadn’t walked too far from the bar at that point, and brought him home. The man was definitely more sober than he had been at whatever time he had gotten home, but the hangover was already showing some of its strength when Bucky sat upright on the couch with his eyesight fuzzy. He rubbed his forehead and looked down, noticing that his shoes and jacket were still on, so if Steve had brought him home, he had done a terrible job at hospitality, and it had to be Steve because Bucky heard shuffling and movement from behind the couch, and suddenly a dark figure moved over to the windows, hand pressed up against the windows. It might’ve been Bucky’s foggy brain, but the outline of the person really didn’t look like Steve’s and the clothes they were wearing didn’t look at all like what Steve had been wearing earlier that night.

“Steve? That you?” Bucky rasped, instantly becoming more clear-minded when the person turned around, revealing a man that definitely was not Steve. Bucky’s eyes flickered all over the man, and he was annoyingly beautiful for a criminal: his eyes were a deep, encompassing brown, similar to the darkness of his clear skin, and his hair was short but obviously well-maintained as the light from the moon and stars bounced off it. His cheekbones were so sharp that Bucky almost truly believed that if he ran his fingers over them that he’d pull back with bloody fingers. The man’s smile, why was he smiling, was broad and blinding as he looked at Bucky and it was surrounded by a clean shaven goatee that the long haired man wished he wasn’t attracted to. Glancing away from the man’s devastatingly gorgeous face and down at his body, Bucky noticed the strange clothing that he was wearing: a white tunic and some baggy white pants to match. His biceps were bulging from the sleeves, and Bucky should probably stop staring at the man’s arms, and pay more attention to the… wings that were draped along the floor behind the man. He was an angel, he had to be. Was Bucky in Heaven? Had he drunk so much that he was dead and this was his entrance to the afterlife? If so, he wasn’t necessarily disappointed.

“Am I…dead?” Bucky asked, tilting his head, and the man’s smile dropped. Frowning, the man opened and closed his mouth like a fish, beginning to move closer. “Hello? Can you understand me?” The man’s frown deepened. With that response of no response, Bucky shifted back on the couch. In this situation, it might’ve been better to have actually been dead instead of a random man in a costume inside of his home. “What the… What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” Bucky began looking for something, anything, to attack the intruder with, but found nothing. Bucky wasn’t at all in the right state of mind to do hand-to-hand combat with him, someone could get terrifyingly hurt and he wasn’t sure it’d be himself. In simple terms, he was fucked if this guy came to rob and murder him. Scrambling to stand wasn’t the best idea, either, as Bucky already felt the bile rising in his throat as his whole world shifted on its axis, but, before he could fall, gentle hands reached out for his shoulders, pushing him down so he landed back onto the couch. Bucky couldn’t even protest at the action as he felt less sick from simply sitting down. But, he needed to stand his ground still, so he weakly pushed the hands away, saying, “Get out before I call the authorities.” His words definitely didn’t have enough conviction to them, but they somehow worked, the man looking out the window once again and moving away from the couch to leave out the front door, pausing to glance back at Bucky for a second, who tried to look at least a little intimidating (and was definitely failing), but he got a small smile in response before the man left.

Bucky really didn’t understand what had just happened to him.

As much as he wanted to get up and chase after the man, he was way too tired and knocked out on the couch, the last thing he heard being the sound of birds chirping outside.

————————

Bucky hated hangovers. It was why he never drank heavily, and why he really regretted not calling out of work that day. Although it was the afternoon, the hangover had dragged out within the day, and it wasn’t really the best for him at the moment. He had been working at his friend, Natasha’s, café for around two years now, it had been a calm job and he had known Natasha since he first started as a firefighter and she worked as a 911 operator, so they gradually became friends, even when she left 4 years into his career, saying that she needed something more chill. And she willingly accepted him working there, at the expectations of Bucky carrying every single heavy thing and taking care of every annoying customer they had. Bucky could do with that.

Except for now when he had a raging headache and a fading recollection of an angelic man breaking into his home and making sure that he passed out on the couch instead of the hardwood floor of his apartment. It didn’t help that Natasha was laughing beside him.

“What?” Bucky snapped quietly at her snickers, and the woman shrugged with a smile on her face.

“Rogers told me you got a bit drunk last night, but looking at you, I can tell that it was more than a bit,” Nat laughed breathily, bumping his shoulder while she reached out to give the change to one of their regulars.

“Does he have to tell you everything?” Bucky sighed, “A guy can’t get drunk every now and then?”

“Not when he can’t brush his hair in the morning to hide it,” Nat teased, causing Bucky to look at his hair in the reflection of the coffee machine to confirm that, yup, his hair was standing up in every direction. Bucky groaned, running his hands through his hair to fix it. That afternoon, he hadn’t been too focused on his appearance, he had just thrown on a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt and willed himself not to be late as he drove to work. “Seriously though, what’s up? It’s not like you to get wasted like that.”

Ever the spy, Nat was. Bucky just rolled his eyes, turning around to make a drink, “It’s nothing. Yesterday was just an off night, I guess.” Bucky said, and Nat looked at him sideways but didn’t mention it. The rest of the shift went quietly, as it was a Wednesday afternoon and people typically came in when they wanted something quick to eat during lunch, so Bucky had missed rush hour. He was around 3 hours into his shift when the work phone got a call, and Nat went to the back to answer it, leaving Bucky alone at the front of the store. He didn’t mind it, it helped his mind stop running, but when Nat came back, she still had the phone pressed to her ear and her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at Bucky.

She muted the phone and held it out to the tall man, “It’s for you.”

“Me? Who is it?” Bucky asked, not pausing in the cappuccino he was making.

“It’s the police. They said some stuff about a man with your wallet but didn’t tell me anything else.” Nat nudged the phone against Bucky’s right arm, “Just take it.”

Bucky took the phone and went to the back. Who could’ve possibly taken his wallet? Was it the man that he saw creeping around in his apartment that night? Nervously, he unmuted the phone and cleared his throat, “Hello?”

“Is this James Barnes?” A gravelly voice questioned on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, speaking.”

“Ah, this is the NYPD, 67th precinct talking. We’ve got a man here in a holding cell, refusing to talk and resisting arrest in a…bird costume. We caught him stealing from various different stores in our area with what we assume is your wallet, as it contains your ID, we also assume he’s stolen this wallet from you too. Is that correct?”

Bucky couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t been hallucinating the night before and the man with the weird costume was real. And he had stolen his wallet. “...yes.”

“Right, okay. Before you worry, even though the man had your money in his pockets, he hadn’t paid for anything, just kept stealing. It’s requested that you come here now instead of later. Is that something you can do?” The man asked while Bucky was already grabbing his keys.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.”

Nat was incredibly understanding of why he had to go, just saying you owe me before the man practically sprinted to his car and began driving to the precinct anxiously. He didn’t understand why he was so nervous to meet the guy that had literally broken into his apartment, and although he hadn’t taken anything other than his wallet (Bucky checked thoroughly. Obviously not thoroughly enough.), Bucky still wasn’t convinced that everything he had seen the night before wasn’t a hallucination. The man was obviously a thief as he’d been stealing from all these other places, but why didn’t he steal from Bucky?

It took less than 10 minutes for Bucky to reach the precinct, step inside and say his name to the officer at the front.

“Ah. You’re here for that guy…” The officer turned around and pulled out a wallet that was in fact Bucky’s, handing it over, “We couldn’t find a name, but once we do, would you like to press charges?”

“Uh…I’ll put a pin in that right now. Is it possible that- could I see him?” Bucky asked, and he really didn’t even know why he had. He had no reason to be interested about the strange man in a costume that had taken his wallet, but something was tugging him in that direction.

“You know him?” The officer raised an eyebrow and Bucky shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about it, even though his head and heart were both racing.

“Something like that.” The officer had widened his eyes at the words, but nodded anyway. He took Bucky to the holding cells that weren’t as full as Bucky had expected, only a few men that looked like they had a rough night, and some women that had looked like they had an even longer one, but none of them compared to the man who was sat in the middle of all of him. The man from his apartment, his eyes were flicking around the room, filled with fear, and Bucky’s heart clenched at the sight, for some reason, feeling sympathy for the man.

The officer whistled, catching the attention of the dark-skinned man, whose eyes widened at the sight of Bucky, all the fear dissipating into something else…excitement, Bucky thought. But that wasn’t possible, why would this random man be excited to see him? Someone he had only met once? “Hey, you. Come here,” The officer said, but the man didn’t move, glancing between Bucky and the officer with a confused expression on his face. “Come on!” The officer waved his hand towards them, and that’s when the man in the costume realised the command and got up, moving right to the edge of the cell, his eyes not straying from Bucky. “Well, you’re looking at him. We’ve asked him if he has any contacts or family we could get in touch with, but he just looked at us with a blank expression.”

Bucky didn’t understand what blank expression he was talking about as the man was currently looking at him, although he wasn’t smiling like he was that morning, there was a sort of shimmer in his eyes that made Bucky squirm as he stood. Even with how attractive the man was, Bucky really should press charges and tell the officer about him breaking into his apartment. “I’ll bail him out. Can I do that?”

Bucky really hadn’t meant to say that.

“I mean…yeah. You can. But the stolen items-”

“I’ll pay for them,” Bucky cut him off, not looking away from the man on the other side of the cell. What the hell was he doing?

The officer nodded, grabbing some keys out of his pocket and unlocking the cell, waving the man out, “We’ll let you out on a warning due to your friend here. Next time,” He turned to face the man fully, “You won’t be so lucky. You got that?”

The man with the wings furrowed his eyebrows at the words, but probably recognised that a response was expected from him and slightly nodded his head.

“Good. Right, you better keep watch of him, sir.” The officer said to Bucky, and Bucky nodded, the same as the man beside him, in response.

The man looked happy to be walking out of the place with Bucky, and Bucky really couldn’t even process the stranger’s happiness as his head kept saying what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck over and over again. The man was strange. During the walk to Bucky’s car, he was looking around like he hadn’t seen anything like it. The street wasn’t really a notable view, so Bucky wasn’t really sure of why such a look of bewilderment would be struck upon the man’s face. The car ride was even stranger, as Bucky had to help him put his seatbelt on and make sure that Sam’s freakishly realistic wings fit in the car. When Bucky looked over, the man was running his fingers along the dashboard like it was some sort of new invention. They’d been driving for around 5 minutes when Bucky finally decided to speak up.

“Who are you and why were you in my apartment?” Bucky glanced over from the road, and the stranger just looked at him with the same confused expression he had looked at the police officer with, and Bucky huffed in annoyance. “C’mon, I paid a $500 fee for the things you stole. You could at least speak to me.” Bucky looked at the man, whose eyebrows just seemed to get more and more twisted, making Bucky think a little deeper, “Do you even speak English?”

The man’s eyes brightened at the word ‘English’ and he shook his head slowly, like he was hoping that he was answering the question correctly. Bucky nodded at the man to reassure him, and shit, of course Bucky would get himself involved in a situation like this: a man in a weird costume stealing his things and conveniently not knowing anything in English except the word English. The drive to the apartment was filled with Bucky glancing over to see the way the man’s jaw was constantly dropped in shock as he looked around at the New York streets. There were probably reasonable conclusions for this; maybe the man had arrived in New York and this was his first time there… but that really didn’t explain why he had nothing on him at all, and apparently knew nothing at all. Bucky just thought about realistic conclusions all the way home, but ended up with nothing that made complete sense.

When they arrived in the apartment, Bucky closed and locked the front door, shaking slightly with the strange man behind him. He paused a little bit, taking a deep breath before he turned around to see the man looking at him intently. Bucky’s heart dropped. The man began walking towards him and Bucky realised that he probably had invited a murderer into his home and was about to die, right here, against the door of his apartment. He should probably fight back, Bucky realised, but he had left that life behind when he signed up to be a firefighter, and with the metal arm he was hiding, it would probably still end up in a death that wasn’t his. His murderer raised his hand, and Bucky wanted to close his eyes but couldn’t look away from the sincerity that encompassed the man’s presence, even if he was about to be killed and turned into a soup. The man reached, and reached, and reached, for a time that seemed like forever. But forever came to an end when the man in front of him glanced down at Bucky’s lips, pressed his stretched index finger against them, and then tapping his own with a look that said got it?, but Bucky still didn’t get it when the stranger pressed his soft, soft lips against Bucky’s. Bucky felt hands on his cheeks as the man in front of him leaned more into the kiss, his mouth slightly opening. And if Bucky pressed back, although a little confused, that was for him to know. It was only a few seconds until the man abruptly pulled away, making Bucky’s head spin. When Bucky opened his eyes, the man had his eyes squeezed shut like he was in some sort of blinding pain.

“Uh-” Bucky began, not really knowing what he was going to say, but the man held his hand up, cutting off anything that was even going to come out, and that was probably the best for both of them that Bucky didn’t embarrass himself. For a few more seconds, the stranger stood in that exact same position with closed eyes and a hand blocking Bucky, but then the hand began to fall and his eyes opened. When he caught sight of Bucky, his mouth eased into a soft smile.

“Hi. I’m Sam.” He began to bend down, and Bucky’s dick jumped at the image, because there was no way the man was about to blow him after kissing him, and (sadly) he was right, there really was no way as he realised that the stranger, Sam, was bowing at him instead

Bucky reached out, grabbing Sam’s shoulders and straightening him, “Don’t…do that. We don’t really… do that here.” Bucky choked out, and Sam looked perplexed at the thought of not bowing as an introduction, but he shrugged and turned to walk further into the apartment, but Bucky kept hold of his shoulders and ducked down to make eye contact with him, “Who are you?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “I just told you. I’m Sam.” The man moved out of Bucky’s touch, looking around at Bucky’s apartment. It wasn’t huge, but it sure was nice if Bucky said so himself. The kitchen had marble countertops and the living room was bigger than an apartment for a singular man should be. The windows overlooked the city, and it was a pretty view that Bucky didn’t appreciate enough, he realised, as Sam moved to the windows, running his finger down it like he had done when Bucky was laying down on the couch.

“No, I mean, why were you in my apartment last night? Why did you take my wallet and why were you stealing from those places? Why did you kiss me?” The words spilled out of Bucky’s mouth as he walked up behind Sam, keeping a safe distance in case his lower area, or Sam, tried anything else. It had been a long time and this attractive man had just kissed him, so he wasn’t trying to make this situation even more awkward and embarrassing than it already was.

Sam turned around to face Bucky with a sheepish expression on his face, “I…I’m sorry for kissing you. It’s how we-” Sam paused, moving his hands as if trying to find the words, or maybe even make it up, “...introduce ourselves with each other where I’m from?” Sam didn’t seem too convinced at his own words, but smiled either way, “Yeah. We kiss and then we bow. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you too much about it, it wasn’t right.” Damn right it wasn’t, Bucky wanted to say but let the man continue in his words, “And, about your apartment…you weren’t awake. You were sleeping on the side of this building and your… wallet thing slipped out and this is the location it said. So I brought you here and I must’ve forgotten to put the wallet back. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

Bucky was having a hard time comprehending everything that was being told to him, but tried to hold it in, “That still doesn’t explain the stealing situation.”

Sam scoffed, “Stealing? If I was stealing, why did all the places say open? Am I not allowed to explore the pleasantries they offer me?”

Bucky couldn’t believe that this man had just said that. In a world so encompassed by money, Sam didn’t understand the idea of currency? “Not without money, you can’t.”

“Money?”

Bucky reached in his pockets, taking out a ten-dollar note of the wallet that Sam had previously stolen, “Whatever price they offer, you have to give them the amount for what you want. It’s not that…underground of an idea. Where did you say you were from?”

Sam smirked, “I didn’t.” And left it at that as he moved past Bucky to run his hands across the fabric of the couch. He seemed truly entranced by everything he saw, and Bucky really, really was wondering where this mysterious man had come from, and why they didn't have currency, or cars, or…anything, it seemed.

“Why haven’t you been speaking this whole time? You told me you couldn’t speak English.”

Bucky could see Sam’s side profile slightly scrunch up before he turned around, plastering a smile on his face as he faced Bucky, “Maybe that kiss you gave me brought it all back to me, James.”

“I gave- you kissed me!” Bucky exclaimed, then realised that he was beginning to lose his cool and took a breath before straightening himself up, raising an eyebrow and asking, “How do you know my name?”

“It was on your…card thingy. And,” He sat down on the back of the couch, looking up at Bucky, “I recall you kissing me back.”

The tips of Bucky’s ears reddened, and he wished his heart would just slow down and recognise that this was still a complete stranger. “I didn’t. I-” Bucky continued speaking, changing the subject and ignoring Sam’s teasing smirk, “But, the whole…” Bucky gave him a once over, “...get up. What’s up with that? The…wings, how are they attached-”

“You sure do have a lot of questions, James.” Bucky ignored how good his name sounded in Sam’s mouth, “But I guess you deserve it. They clip-on.” Sam answered, “I can take them off, privately. If you can give me the space to do so.” Sam said with a questioning tone, tilting his head.

Bucky really should say no. Sam was a stranger and he knew not to trust people so blindly, but he was so devastatingly clueless about everything that Bucky worried for the grown man in the real world. “I have a bathroom. Follow me.” Bucky began walking, and heard the soft, almost featherlike, steps behind him. He opened the door, and held his arm out awkwardly like he was trying to present it to the other man. “You can wash up, too. Use the towels afterwards, and I’ll bring some clothes for you to wear and place them outside the door.” Bucky said, walking away to his bedroom to gather his thoughts and find out what the fuck was happening. Frustrated, Bucky ripped his glove and jacket off, twisting his metal arm around after a while of being constricted. The whole situation was fucked. There was a random man in his home. A strange, weird man who had stolen from him and other places and wore clip-on wings. Back in the day, if someone had broken into his home, he’d have called the police immediately and gotten them detained. Probably beaten them up a little bit, but he definitely wouldn’t have let a person get away with the things that Sam was. But, something about Sam was different - Bucky couldn’t describe it. It made him interested and lust for more knowledge. His thoughts were cut off by a call of James! coming from the bathroom, and he rubbed a hand down his face before moving down the hall to go to the bathroom.

“Sam?” He knocked, and waited for a few seconds before the door opened, revealing a very very naked Sam. Bucky immediately averted his eyes to the ground, seeing the white shirt and pants that Sam was wearing discarded on the ground, and yet no clip-on wings. Strange. But, he couldn’t really focus on when the really hot criminal was standing bare in front of him, and from just a glimpse, he could tell that the man was built, and his chest was so wide and thick that Bucky wanted to memorise them with either his hands or his t-

“How do you work the washing…contraption?” Sam asked innocently, like he didn’t have all of his body parts practically looking at Bucky.

“I- Uh.” Bucky gulped, looking up and locking his eyes on Sam’s wide ones, making sure that they didn’t stray anywhere else. “Hold on, I’ll show you.” And that’s how Bucky ended up showing Sam how to work the hot and cold water, what to use on his body and what to use on his hair, and in which order, all the while with Sam hovering naked behind him and nodding with every step. And Bucky was thankful when Sam knew all the steps, and he could finally leave, before he felt a hand on his right shoulder, making him turn around.

“I like the arm.” Sam complimented, his expression genuine, and Bucky hadn’t even realised that he had forgotten to cover it up, and unlike a normal person, Sam wasn’t scared, nor frightened, he had liked it.

“Uh, thanks. I’ll grab some clothes and put them outside for when you’re finished.” Bucky stuttered, Sam mumbled a small ‘thanks’, before Bucky walked out and closed the door behind him. He really had dug himself into a big hole.

————————

Bucky was 100% sure that his water bill would be skyrocket high when Sam came out of the bathroom after 45 minutes of using up all the hot water. Bucky was sitting on the couch watching a shit gambling show on the TV, the sky outside already darkening into a blackish-blue when Sam walked in wearing a black t-shirt, that was slightly too big for him, and a pair of grey sweatpants that thankfully didn’t sag a little like they did on Bucky, because the view of him in his clothes already made something in his stomach twitch. Bucky was only human afterall. Way too comfortably for Bucky’s liking, Sam plopped himself down on the couch, burrowing himself into the soft fabric, scooting in a way that reminded Bucky of birds in a nest.

“What is that?” Sam pointed to the TV, his pink lips separated in shock, round and- Bucky really shouldn’t be looking at this man’s mouth.

“It’s my…TV? Shows you movies, shows, reality…you know?” A line appeared between Bucky’s eyebrows, because how didn’t this man, who was probably around his own age, not know what a television was? “You can watch anything, it’s mostly fake, but interesting nonetheless.” Sam nodded, not taking his eyes off the glass screen, eyes wide and enamoured. They sat there for around an hour, and Bucky’s mind wouldn’t stop screaming at him about how this was a terrible idea and that Sam could be someone who was spying or was setting him up to be robbed. The repetition of thoughts made his stomach twist, and just when he was about to turn and tell Sam that he could no longer stay there and that he had to find somewhere else, a growl sounded from the other end of the couch, and Sam put a hand on his stomach with a frown.

Bucky studied Sam, and realised that he looked more tired than he had just a few hours ago, “When was the last time you ate?”

Sam looked over at Bucky, shrugging, “Maybe yesterday morning. Or the night before.”

Bucky really wished that his sympathy would let up, but of course it didn’t and he had to offer to make dinner, and Sam gleefully nodded. Bucky settled for just making them grilled cheese sandwiches, not bothering to make something too big, but Sam ate it like it was the tastiest thing he had ever had. They were sitting at the dining table, Bucky on one end, and Sam on the other. Bucky had finished his food long ago, but was now watching Sam as he took careful bites from the food, like he was afraid it would disappear from his hands.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Bucky questioned, and Sam paused his eating, looking up at Bucky as he swallowed and put the sandwich down. His mouth set in a hard line and the glimmer that had previously been in his eyes faded.

“No.” Sam admitted, seemingly refusing to look at Bucky as he moved to pick up his sandwich again, taking even smaller bites than before.

Bucky really was going to regret this. “You can stay here.”

Sam’s head whipped upwards, “Really?”

Bucky cleared his throat and looked out at the city lights, “Just until you find somewhere to stay. You can sleep on my couch for a bit.” Sam smiled, showing his gapped teeth at the front as he nodded in acceptance, thanking Bucky profusely for all that he’s done for him, and Bucky didn’t know how to respond as he didn’t know why he was even doing the things that he was. Something was warning him not to, that something was wrong, but his heart had yearned to help the man, and the guilt that would come with not helping him would be excruciating. The remnants of being a firefighter.

When it came time to go to sleep, Sam stood in front of Bucky, holding the blanket that Bucky had found for him, once again thanking him for what he was doing, and Bucky just shook his head.

“It’s nothing. I can’t provide you forever, but I will for now. You’ll have to help out with chores around the house and groceries, but that’s it. Don’t make me regret it.” Bucky’s tone was deadly serious, but the sides of Sam’s mouth still twisted up into a smile.

“Thank you, James. And, no promises,” Sam winked, making Bucky twist his mouth, before he turned and walked over to the couch, Bucky watching for a few seconds as he draped the blanket over the couch, and then walked to his own bedroom and flopping down on the bed, tired and incredibly confused about what had happened in the past 24 hours. Reaching his hand down, he palmed at the bulge in his pants. It had been years since he had last had sex with someone, and that split image of Sam naked hadn’t left his brain. The way that his thighs were so large and muscular that they could probably wrap around Bucky’s throat, and Bucky would probably die happy. The idea made him groan, but he quickly covered his mouth when he remembered that he wasn’t alone and that the man that he was rubbing himself to was just down the hall, falling asleep on his couch. His dick jumped at the thought, but he grimaced as he pulled his hand away and turned to go to sleep. He had lied to Sam - he couldn’t keep this random man who was secretive about everything Bucky had asked in his home. It was dangerous and stupid, and everyone he knew would be so confused that the restricted, closed-off Bucky that they knew had allowed this random man to stay in his apartment. He had to tell him to find somewhere else in the morning. Bucky closed his eyes, praying that in the morning he’d wake up and it would all be a really detailed and intense dream.

Chapter 2: two

It wasn’t a dream.

Bucky knew that when he woke up before his alarm and sluggishly walked out to the living room, welcomed to a trail of feathers that he hadn’t recalled being there the night before, but it was probably from Sam moving them and putting them… somewhere. Bucky remembered not seeing wings amongst the pile of clothing that Sam had left on the bathroom floor when he went to the bathroom in the middle of their television watching, but Bucky really had never seen anything like it, something so out of the world that Sam had never really explained aside from saying that they were ‘clip-ons’. Bucky’s interest in the wings faded when he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, only to reveal that there was an abandoned blanket on the couch, no Sam in sight.

Bucky’s heart began to race as he glanced between his living room and the kitchen, as if Sam could be hiding in such an open space like this. He was already beginning to regret allowing this man into his house, as before he had even gotten out of bed, he was psyching himself up to tell Sam that he had to leave, but it seemed that Sam had taken him upon himself to leave without any notice. Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together as he thought of Sam, who claimed he had nobody, by himself in a city so dangerous. He understood that Sam was clearly a fully functioning adult, but it was also clear that he had no idea what he was doing and just trusted Bucky blindly, and that vulnerability could get him hurt. Worry grew in his chest, and he turned around to go back to his bedroom and change and somehow find Sam in a place so big. But, all worry dissipated as he looked up to be met with Sam who hadn’t even looked the slightest bit tired as he glanced over Bucky, who squirmed inwardly at the attention, smiling when he met Bucky’s eyes.

“James. Hi.” Sam walked away from the bathroom door, and bowed his head slightly before pausing, and bringing his head up with a sheepish expression, “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“Ah…” Tell him he needs to leave, tell him he needs to leave “Do you want something to eat?”

Sam looked thrilled.

The breakfast was only 2 slices of toast for the both of them, but Sam had still cherished it like he had the sandwich the day before, looking at it like it was the most precious thing in the universe. Perhaps he had liked it a bit more than the sandwich, as he made small happy noises with basically every bite. Bucky watched as Sam took a break from eating and looked out the windows on the other side of the room, the Sun just about starting to show its edges amongst the horizon. Bucky watched as his face relaxed when the birds sang the same song they had been singing outside of Bucky’s apartment everyday for a while now. He watched as Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes, like a weight was lifted off his strangely muscular shoulders, and even though Bucky didn’t know what sort of weight it was, he was somehow proud that he, himself, had contributed to the easing of the pressure. Bucky had also watched as Sam snapped his eyes open and looked over at Bucky, who had felt caught in the moment.

“You know, you have a bit of a staring problem.” Sam stated when he tucked back into his meal, and Bucky tried not to choke on his own toast at the words, but hid it quite well if he did say so himself.

“You’re a stranger inside my home. I’d say I have every reason to stare.” Bucky pointed out, and Sam just breathed out a laugh as he finished off his food.

“Touché. But, you still haven’t kicked me out.” Sam teased.

Bucky really should. “Don’t get too cocky. I’m not usually this…” Bucky looked down at his abandoned plate, only the crusts leftover as he tried to find the words he was looking for.

“Kind?” Sam suggested.

Bucky frowned, “Philanthropic.”

Sam hummed as he stretched backwards, the front legs of the chair lifting slightly, “Hm. That’s hard to believe.”

“Hard to believe? You assumed I was going to say kind.” Bucky gave Sam a blank expression, and the man’s eyes squinted in response.

“You guys have humour here, right?”

Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Sam leaned forward, reaching out to take the crust from Bucky’s plate, but Bucky just nudged his plate forward for easier access, and Sam made a pleased sound in the back of his throat before beginning to speak again, “I just meant that you have a mysterious, brooding atmosphere going to you,” He nodded down to the metal arm, and Bucky lifted it from the table and put it down to his side, making Sam pull a face that Bucky couldn’t make out, but he still spoke, “To be honest, it’s something that really works for you.” Bucky didn’t want to dig into what that meant. “In reality, you’re probably just a big softie. Or else, what other reason would you be letting me, the so-called stranger, stay in your home. You would’ve turned me away instantly, but you didn’t.” Bucky stood from his seat, not bothering to respond as he picked up both of their empty plates and walked over to the kitchen sink. He hoped that would stop the conversation, but he heard a pitter patter of footsteps trail behind him, “James, you just made me breakfast and let me have the edges of your bread. Now you’re cleaning up my dish.”

Bucky shook his head as he started washing up, “You know, for someone claimed they spoke no English, you sure do speak a lot of it.” Bucky deflected, no longer wanting to hear Sam spew about how ‘good’ he was.

“Let me help,” Sam demanded, and Bucky was thankful for the subject change, but also annoyed by the hands that were now invading his space and submerging themselves into the water.

Bucky grabbed Sam’s hands with his right hand and moved them away, “No. Just-” Please leave and don’t make this any harder than it has to be. But Bucky couldn’t exactly get those words out as he peeked at the almost devastated expression that washed over Sam’s face. Oh, for fuck’s sake. “You know what you can do? Clean that mess of feathers you left in the hall.”

Sam looked overjoyed to be assigned a task and turned around with a bounce in his step before stopping in his tracks, and looking back, “What are we doing today, James?”

“We?” Bucky asked, and Sam nodded. “No. We are not doing anything. I am going to work in-” Bucky looked over at the time on the oven, “-2 hours, and you are going to stay here.”

Bucky’s tone might’ve been a bit too sharp as he saw the other man’s smile falter, “I can’t come with you? Why?”

What a terrible idea that was.

“No, it helps me get the ‘money thing’ we were talking about. And, don’t you remember what happened the last time you went out?” It seemed like Sam remembered as he began muttering underneath his breath in a new expression that Bucky recognised was annoyance. Annoyance caused by Bucky, and Bucky’s felt a pang of guilt blooming, “Listen. Maybe we can do something… another time. Just not today. Okay?”

Bucky waited for an answer for a prolonged time and continued his washing when he heard a small “Okay.” from Sam.

-

Work was almost as quiet as the day before, except that it was a morning shift so there were more people coming in for breakfast, but aside from that, it was quiet. Bucky loved working at the cafe, it gave him some time to be calm and get his ‘social time’ that Steve always bugs him about. Even now, in a time where he should be insanely stressed about what the random man he had in his home was doing, he couldn’t help but feel a bit calmer with the aroma of whipped cream and hot croissants in the air. He smiled slightly as he passed someone over a pain au chocolat, and he felt a presence to his side.

“How did everything go yesterday? With the man?” Nat asked, and Bucky was surprised that he didn’t get whiplash with how quick he turned to look at the redheaded woman.

“What do you mean?” Bucky gulped, making Nat scrunch up her eyebrows and tilt her head suspiciously.

“The call? From the precinct? When you disappeared off the face of the Earth and only responded to my messages this morning to confirm that you were still coming to work? You must remember that,” Nat teased, and Bucky did feel a bit guilty for not replying to any of her messages. He had his hands full, okay?

“Oh, uh- It went fine. It was just a misunderstanding.” Bucky shrugged it off, and no it was not a misunderstanding, it was a bit of a situation on his hand that he didn’t know how to fix.

“A misunderstanding, but you couldn’t reply all day?”

“It’s nothing. Leave it.” Bucky snipped, knowing it wouldn’t make her leave it forever, but at least for the moment. Like he thought, Nat just nodded and got back to making whatever drink she was making while Bucky called out the name of a customer, trying to get the topic out of his head. And well, the topic stayed out of head until the bell of the cafe door rang, and Bucky didn’t look up, he just put the coins from the previous customer in the cash register, ready to recite what he always did, “Hi, welcome to the-”

What the fuck was Sam doing out here?

“I’ll get a coffee. One like the one you left for me this morning, with the note this is a coffee. don’t drink it too fast. Thanks for that, by the way.” Sam smirked, tilting that frustratingly pretty head, making a fire take its first breaths in Bucky’s stomach.

“Keep your voice down,” Bucky harshly whispered, glancing over at Nat to see if she had noticed Sam’s words, and luckily, she was too busy speaking to a regular, probably about something boring, like what their plans were for the rest of the day. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to stay in my apartment?”

“I can’t recall when you became the boss of me.” Sam raised his eyebrows, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the counter.

Bucky must’ve let the most smart-mouthed, annoying person into his home.

“The apartment is boring and I know how nothing works. Do you want me to starve and die of boredom, James?” Sam pouted, before reaching into his pockets and pulling out a five dollar bill and sliding it over the counter to Bucky.

“Where did you get that?” Bucky asked, frowning, but Sam simply waved his hand dismissively.

“I found it in the couch. Keep the change,” Sam smiled, and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I’ll keep the spares of my own money. How do you even know that phrase if you don’t have money?” Bucky asked, still not taking the money that was pushed over to him.

“I heard the person in front of me say it. It sounded cool. Can I get my drink now?” Sam moved away from the counter, and crossed his arms, and wow, Bucky was lucky that he hadn’t given him a short-sleeved shirt to wear for the day because his arms were flexed against the fabric, and Bucky wouldn’t know how to breathe if he saw them in the flesh.

Bucky was about to reject Sam’s request, but Nat cut him off before he could say anything, “Is there an issue here?” She looked in between Sam and Bucky with a questioning look before fixing her gaze on Sam, “Hi. I’m Natasha, the manager here.” Sam nodded with squinted eyes like he was trying to figure out what a manager was, and when Nat reached her hand out for him to shake, he glanced at Bucky with a fearful expression. Shake her hand in yours. Bucky mouthed, in disbelief that wherever Sam came from didn’t even have handshakes. Sam nodded with his mouth in an ‘o’ shape, and took Nat’s hand in his own, shaking it painfully slowly up.

“Sam. Samuel Wilson,” He gave a charming smile to Nat and Bucky felt his stomach twist at the sight. Sam hadn’t told him his last name, or that fact that his name was just a nickname of his extended one, so why would he tell Nat?

“Could we skip the pleasantries? You’re holding up a line,” Bucky stated, way too focused to notice how Sam had only just released his hand from Nat’s grip, while Nat looked behind Sam to see that there was absolutely nobody there. Bucky ignored her amused look and continued to speak, “And to answer your question, no. There’s no issues here, and I’m just getting him a coffee.” Bucky snatched the five dollars from the counter and turned around to make Sam’s coffee, exactly how he made it that morning with a bit of cinnamon sprinkled on the rim of the mug.

“He’s cute.” Nat said, leaning on the counter and looking up at him.

“Fuck, Nat. He’s a customer. You can’t think like that,” Bucky refused to look at her, huffing as the coffee machine groaned.

“There’s no rule against that! And besides, I didn’t mean for me.” Nat wiggled her eyebrows, and Bucky backed up, immediately opening his mouth to protest, but there was a sudden gasp behind them. They both turned around to see Sam bent at the waist, looking through the display windows besides the front counter with a light in his eyes.

“Are these all bread?” Sam exclaimed, flicking his eyes across the pastries, and Nat’s mouth twisted.

“Nevermind. I think he’s one of those attractive ones who are cursed with stupidity,” Nat spoke, her tone quiet, but Bucky still slapped her arm gently, a need to defend Sam spilling from his soul.

“He’s not stupid, Nat,” Bucky finished up the drink, and cleaned the small spill beside it.

“He doesn’t know what a pastry is.”

“He’s not from around here,” Bucky defended, moving over to Sam with the mug in his hand, “Kind of, not really. You want to try?” Bucky offered, not being able to stop the words from leaving his mouth.

It was worth it to see Sam’s lit up expression directed at him instead of the pastries, “Really. But, I don’t have anymore-”

“I’ll cover it. Just, take your mug and sit down. I’ll bring you some,” Bucky said, and Sam smiled brightly, taking the mug and moving to sit on a table that overlooked the streets. Bucky sighed, and turned around to be met with a curious stare from Nat. “Don’t.”

“You know him. Who knew little Bucky Barnes would know people outside of his very tight inner circle?” Nat widened her eyes, waiting for a response, and Bucky didn’t really want to get into it, so he just set out a plate of pastries for Sam that were all his personal favourites.

“He’s not in my inner circle. I met him recently,” Bucky responded, not digging into it.

But Nat, as per usual, wanted to dig, “...Was he the man from yesterday? The one they called about?”

Fuck.

Bucky hurried to put the last pastry on the plate, “I’ve gotta…yeah.” Bucky gestured to the plate and to Sam and walked away, knowing that his actions just confirmed what Nat had thought, but he just wanted to get away from the conversation. When he walked over to Sam’s table, the man was looking out the window, something Bucky noticed he really liked to do, and he looked over when he heard Bucky’s loud footsteps. “Pastries.” Bucky stated simply, lifting the plate a little before placing it down in front of Sam. “Don’t eat it too quickly. You’ll feel sick, especially if you’re not used to it.”

Sam nodded, once again, and reached out to pick up a croissant before he paused and looked up at Bucky with an apology in his eyes. “Thanks, James. And, I’m sorry for coming here. I know you told me to stay and that we could do something another time but…” His finger tapped the table in an anxious way, and Bucky just wanted to reach out and soothe him.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have…I finish at 3,” Bucky took off his digital alarm and set an alarm for 3. He gestured for Sam’s wrist, and the man willingly held it out, allowing Bucky to strap it to his wrist, “When you’re done eating, go around. Walk around the place, don’t go getting in trouble again. When this buzzes, come back here, then we can… I can take you around, okay?”

Sam’s usual beaming smile wasn’t the one Bucky was looking at, the one he was seeing was soft but still happy in all the same, “Okay.” His tone was soft, and Bucky gulped before turning around and seeing Nat watching the both of them with a confused look on her face. Bucky was confused himself, if he was honest.

_____

The day eventually got more busy as people came and went, maybe Bucky more focused on the fact that there were people who had to be served, and not the fact that he had suggested that he and Sam would do something after he finished work. He was just about finishing and talking to Nat when his shift ended.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay a little later?” Bucky questioned, knowing that Fridays were insanely busy and that the extra pair of hands would help. But, Nat was already rejecting him.

“No, it’s fine, Bucky. Clint and Kate should be here in a bit. Besides, it seems like you’ve already got your hands full,” Nat nodded upwards, away from the latte she was making, and to the front desk, revealing Sam standing there. Bucky hadn’t even noticed the man’s presence.

“You ready, James?” Sam asked, and Bucky had to find a way to drag out his time there.

“Uh, yeah. Just give me a second,” Bucky took off his apron, and Nat tilted her head.

“James?” She glanced at him, and Bucky felt a red flush rise up his neck as he itched the back of his head awkwardly. Shrugged, he said his goodbyes and walked around the desk to Sam. Sam had a bounce in his step as they walked out, seeming almost giddy to go around with Bucky. Was this how normal friendships began? Meeting and deciding that you want to hang out? Well, Bucky knew it definitely didn’t begin with that person breaking into your home and you letting them stay with you for God knows how long. Sam looked around like everything was new, and Bucky wasn’t actually sure that Sam had actually gone on a walk like he had advised as the bench outside the cafe had a few crumbs of a pastry, that Bucky knew they hadn’t sold to anyone other than Sam, were on the ground, surrounded by birds that were gently pecking at the food. The weather was actually quite nice, the remains of summer still showing their true colours although clouds were patterned across the blue sky.

Bucky cleared his throat causing Sam to look over at him, “Did you like the pastries?”

Sam smiled at the mention, “They were great. I’ve never tasted anything like it. Do you make them?” Sam questioned, kicking some rocks that were on the ground in front of him as they waited at a crosswalk.

“Some of them,” Bucky shrugged, knowing that all the ones he gave Sam were all made by him, and ignoring the fact that Sam liking what he made caused his chest to feel a bit warm. “How did you even find out where I worked?”

“...You told me, right?”

He hadn’t. And Bucky told him as such.

“Oh. Well,” He just shrugged, not answering the question, “You know, you didn’t have to lie earlier, with your friend, Natasha.” Sam mentioned as they crossed.

Bucky’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Sam huffed, not answering for a bit as he slowed down his steps, “You said I’m not stupid. You don’t have to lie, it won’t hurt my feelings.”

“You heard that?” Bucky’s chest clenched at the thought of Sam overhearing that and not even getting up to defend himself, just accepting the words.

“It’s not like it was completely packed in there. I’m clueless, not naïve,” Sam scoffed, and now they had both completely stopped, Bucky walking to bring them to the side a little bit so they weren’t in other people’s ways. “And, besides. It wouldn’t hurt me. I know I’m not the brightest of the bunch here. I know nothing about the things you talk about and everything you think is simple and common knowledge is abstract and unique in my eyes. Back home and in my knowledge, I’m smart. I promise you, I am. My father used to tell me that my brain ran so fast that eventually it would leave me behind.” Bucky watched Sam smile with the memory, and made sure to capture this moment in his mind, not wanting to forget the first time that Sam had actually told him, although small, a detail about where he was from. “It’s just here…it’s different. We don’t have the things you do.”

“I could teach you.” Bucky blurted, and he really didn’t know what was going on with him recently, he had been speaking way, way before thinking.

“You would?” Sam’s eyes gleamed, and Bucky really wished he could take away his words, but there was no going back now.

“Uh…Yeah. It’s not safe in New York. And you’re way too trusting by the looks of it so-” Bucky’s words were squeezed out of him as strong arms wrapped around him, engulfing him in the second tightest embrace Bucky’s ever had, first if it weren’t for Steve’s deathly bear hugs. Bucky kept his arms by his side, not reciprocating, but he did smile slightly, “So you have hugs where you’re from but not handshakes?”

Sam pulled away from him, and Bucky felt colder at the loss, having to look up since they were still quite close and Bucky was just that little bit taller than him, “Hugs are normal, shaking hands are not. Why can’t you just bow?” Sam turned and continued walking, Bucky having to jog a little to catch up to him.

“Some people do bow, just not here,” Bucky responded, and the walk just dived into a comfortable silence before Bucky had a realisation, “Wait. Did you walk here? That’s a 15 minute drive and a 30 minute walk.”

Sam was unbothered, “I guess it felt quicker. It was good to get the fresh air, though. Oh, yeah. Your friend...Natasha.” Bucky didn’t see the frowning expression on Sam’s face as he said her name.

Bucky felt bile rise up his throat, “What about her?”

“She called you Bucky. And even looked confused when I called you James. What’s that about?” Sam looked at him expectantly.

Bucky pushed his lips into a tight line before saying, “You must have really good hearing to hear all these conversations.”

“Oh, the best. C’mon James, I was vulnerable, you tell me something too. A secret for a secret.”

Bucky wanted to know why Sam’s birthplace was such a secret, but just sighed in defeat, “It’s a childhood nickname that just stuck. Stems from my middle name, ‘Buchanan’.”

“Can I call you Bucky?” Sam asked, and Bucky looked over at his hopeful expression.

“No.”

Sam didn’t seem too disheartened by it, he just accepted it and continued the conversation by asking what every store had inside of it, and what the things inside were, and their uses. Bucky refused to say it, but it was sort of endearing to see.

That night was calmer than the previous two, them both keeping to themselves in their respective rooms until Bucky made dinner for the two of them. Bucky would usually be more hostile with a person in his home, but something about Sam made him unthreatening; perhaps it was the fact that he knew nothing and Bucky knew that no criminal would stand a chance against him. Although, it wouldn’t hurt to search up Sam’s name and see if he could find anything out about him. Bucky opened his laptop late at night, later than he really should’ve been up, and searched up the name Samuel Wilson, the immediate results being completely irrelevant and nothing to do with the Sam he was talking about. Cracking his neck, he used his previous research skills to deep dive into it, but absolutely nothing came up. Had Sam given him a fake name? Why was there nothing about his family, his history, or him?

Who the hell was Bucky letting sleep in his living room?

____

Bucky really was starting to regret ever offering to teach Sam about, well, everything. The man was an early riser, the complete opposite of Bucky who, although he couldn’t sleep well, liked to stay in bed until he physically couldn’t anymore. But, all plans to sleep in were abandoned as Sam knocked on his door rapidly (something Bucky had to teach Sam after he would just shout ‘Coming in!’ and not give Bucky enough time to sort himself out).

“James, you promised! Get up!” Sam exclaimed, still knocking on the door. It had been just about a week since Bucky had found Sam in his apartment, and about 4 days since he had said he’d teach Sam about everything he didn’t know, and 4 days since he realised that Samuel Wilson, at least his one, apparently didn’t exist. And yet, he still hadn’t kicked the man out for some reason. Within those 4 days, Sam had been making a list of things that he wanted to learn how to do, adding something every time he saw it on whatever trashy show they were watching, or if he saw a new place on their way to the restaurant down the street. And today marked the first day that they’d actually start to take things off the list.

Today was baking.

“Bucky!”

Bucky ran a hand down his face and threw his legs over the side of the bed, “Alright, alright. I’m up. And, don’t call me that.” He yawned, standing up and moving over to open the door, leaning back as he knew Sam was going to walk past him like he liked to do every morning.

“I’m ready. I’ve watched you bake so much that I feel like I’ll be a professional.” Sam buzzed with an excitement that Bucky couldn’t comprehend a human being could have before noon.

“You’ve watched me cook, not bake. Those are two different things,” Bucky rolled his left shoulder uncomfortably, and if Sam took notice of the action, he didn’t mention it.

“They are? Well they both include…heating things up, don’t they? So they can’t be that different,” Sam was going through Bucky’s drawers, definitely messing up any sort of arrangement that Bucky had left it in, before taking out a grey t-shirt that Bucky didn’t even know he had. “Can I wear this?” Sam asked, and he hadn’t even waited for a response when he ripped his sleeping shirt on and began shrugging the grey shirt onto his body. Bucky had seen Sam shirtless twice in the 7 days that they had known each other: the first being the bathroom incident, and the second being this moment right now. It was way better in person than Bucky had been imagining in his head.

“You couldn’t do this later? You know, after we’ve had breakfast?” Bucky complained and Sam smiled.

“Well, lucky for you, James Barnes, as my first attempt at baking, I made us toast.” Sam announced, putting his hands on his hips and looking rather proud of himself. Now that Bucky was actually thinking about it, there was a smoky scent filling up the house. Sam walked out, Bucky immediately following to see exactly what type of toast he made, and looked on the kitchen counter to see a plate of the darkest pieces of toast he’s ever seen in his life. He sat down on the barstool in front of the plate, and was about to say how inedible it was, but Sam had been looking at him with wide, expectant eyes that he couldn’t refuse. He ate the whole thing and it tasted like charcoal in his mouth.

“So, how did I do, Mr Barnes?” Sam asked, and Bucky gave him a thumbs up. Sam squinted at the hand like it had grown another set of fingers, “What the hell is that?”

Bucky looked down at his hand and back at Sam, “It’s another one of our gestures. It means good in any sense. And in this sense, I’m saying you did a good job.” Sam beamed at the praise.

This really was going to be terrible.

Bucky began setting out the ingredients and equipment out onto the counter after he preheated the oven as Sam read the recipe for the simple vanilla cake on Bucky’s phone repeatedly.

“This makes no sense,” Sam muttered, “Why can’t we just make bread?”

Bucky breathed out a laugh, “I think you’ve had enough bread in the past week to last the entire United States.”

“It's good food. It can go with anything, and you’ve shown me it can create things, wonderful, wonderful things.” Sam gushed, and Bucky shook his head affectionately, already used to Sam waxing poetry about bread in the short time that they’ve known one another.

“Maybe next time. Hey, come here and bring the phone with you.” Bucky said, and Sam basically sprinted to him, ready to begin the baking. Bucky was instructing him throughout the whole thing, hiding his smile every time Sam did something right with a scowl, not wanting to let up that intimidating atmosphere he had to keep up. If only Steve could see him now. It was a known fact that Bucky neither cooked nor baked with anybody else, even when Steve had tried to help him the slightest bit, Bucky had gotten frustrated and stopped cooking overall. Yet, here he was, cooking with someone that had a secret past and a smile that made Bucky’s chest hurt. Sam listened intently to everything Bucky had ordered, moving with elegance and grace until it came to the electrical mixer.

“Maybe I should do this part,” Bucky suggested, reaching out to grab the machine, but Sam remained a stiff board in front of it.

“You said you would teach me everything,” Sam complained stubbornly, “Plus, it shouldn’t be that hard. There’s only three buttons,” Sam said, his arm stretching to press the darkest out of the colour coded buttons.

“Sam, that’s not the best ide-” Bucky was cut off by a blob of cake batter splurting in his face. The machine creaked and groaned as it spat batter everywhere, making Bucky yell at Sam to turn it off, and Sam responding with I’m trying!. It took them another minute to finally get through the batter vomit and turn off the mixer. Sam guiltily grabbed a paper towel and started wiping Bucky’s face, but Bucky just took it out of his hands and started cleaning his face himself.

“Sorry. I should’ve listened.” Sam apologised, but didn’t look too sorry as the corners of his mouth quirked up into a grin.

“You’re smiling. Are you sure you’re sorry?” Bucky spat, grabbing his phone to go to the camera and see how much of the batter got onto him, only to see it stick to his hair in every corner. Sam didn’t answer his question as he appeared in the camera behind Bucky with wide eyes.

“Woah. How are you capturing this? Is this how you get those pictures that are on your desk in your bedroom?” Sam asked, moving so close behind him that Bucky could feel his breath against his cheek and the warmth radiate from his body.

“Yes, how do you even-”

“I want one!” Sam exclaimed, turning to look at Bucky with a bright smile and Bucky rolled his eyes but clicked the button anyways. The picture snapped with them in those same positions, batter covering both of their clothes and remnants still on their faces.

Bucky put the phone down and turned around to look at Sam, stepping back as they were far too close, “We’ll try this again. After we get showers.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

It took them two more failures until they successfully put the cake in the oven. The first (second) fail was due to Bucky forgetting to tell Sam to snap the cake pan together before putting the batter in there, so when Sam lifted it, the whole thing dropped to the floor. The second fail was due to Sam accidentally dumping the entire flour bag into the bowl. However, the third attempt they took slowly and tried not to panic, and slow and steady won the race. As they were waiting for the cake to bake, Bucky put on whatever was on the TV for Sam as he took some time for himself in his bedroom after spending his morning and the majority of the afternoon with the other man. At this point, he’d abandoned the plans to kick Sam out. He’d decided that after figuring out that the man seemingly had no records or history. He told himself it was because if Sam was a threat, it would be better to keep him under his watch, and not because he was getting used to the company in his apartment. After approximately 35 minutes, Bucky came out of the bedroom to check on the cake, glancing at Sam to see him heavily entranced by The Sound of Music playing on the TV. Bucky moved over to the oven and took the cake out, sticking a fork in it to check if it was ready.

“This is something we have.” He heard Sam say from the couch. He looked up, seeing the two characters slow dance together. “Back home, dancing is a big part of our culture. It said everything you couldn’t say in words, it made courting very easy. Do you dance?” Sam rested his head on the back of the couch to look at Bucky, “Secret for secret.”

Bucky bit his lip trying not to laugh. Where did Sam come from for courting to still be a thing? “No. Not anymore. My sister used to drag me around and make me dance, but after she passed, it never crossed my mind.”

Sam’s eyebrows curled upwards, pulling upwards in the middle with an upsetting twitch, “I’m sorry.”

Bucky just cleared his throat and looked away from Sam’s sad gaze, “Cake’s ready. We’re only eating it after dinner, though.”

The suddenly tense atmosphere quickly dissipated when Sam began to protest and beg Bucky to let him just have a taste, but Bucky didn’t give in and forced Sam to wait. In the end, the cake was actually really good, and Sam cheered when Bucky voiced. They finished the cake whilst watching the musical movie. Bucky wasn’t really into musicals like that, but he kept it on to see Sam’s reactions.

______

Sam needed his own clothes. Bucky realised this when cleaning the grey shirt that had been ruined with cake batter. He actually quite liked that shirt. So, the next day, Bucky told Sam that they were going to go shopping for clothes. Sam had gasped and immediately started to get ready, even though it was 9 in the morning, and Bucky had meant later, much, much later, they ended up leaving the apartment at 9:30 to go to the mall.

When they got to the mall, Sam looked around with recognition, “Hey, I’ve been here before.”

“You have?” Bucky hadn’t recalled taking Sam anywhere other than grocery shopping, or to the occasional

“This is where that man detained me.” Sam walked towards a soap store, and Bucky grabbed his arm and pulled him in the direction they actually needed to go to.

“You were stealing from the mall?”

Sam smiled cheekily, “Larger variety.” Bucky just scoffed and took Sam into the men’s clothing area in the store that he took them into, grabbing whatever he assumed would be around Sam’s size. He was holding up a shirt and some pants to Sam’s body to check how it would look when the other man opened his mouth. “This is so annoying. Why should we have different outfits everyday, it makes everything so much harder.”

“Is that so?” Bucky hummed, too focused on if the shirt actually matched the pants.

“Back home, we just have the same outfits, just in different colours.” Bucky leaned back, draping the clothing over his arm after he deemed them acceptable.

“Like the outfit you came here in?” Bucky looked over at Sam, getting a nod in response, so he decided to push a little, “And…where is home?”

Sam grinned and returned Bucky’s gaze, “You’re a funny guy, Bucky.” Still refusing to give up anything about his home. Bucky kept that in his mind, but just brushed past it.

“James.” Bucky corrected, and Sam’s grin only widened.

“James.” Sam repeated, and moved over to the till so they could pay for the heaps of clothing that Bucky was buying.

As soon as they got home, Sam forced Bucky to sit on the couch and watch as he did a fashion show like they had seen on a TV show that Bucky had forgotten the name of. Bucky ignored how it was similar to when people in relationships would show off their new clothing.

“You ready?” Sam called out from the bathroom.

“I’m ready for this to be done and over with,” Bucky mumbled underneath his breath, tired after sitting for 30 minutes watching Sam try on each individual piece of clothing he had gotten, even down to the socks. Bucky had to tell him that he didn’t have to show duplicates of the same socks.

“Okay, okay, no need to be grumpy,” Sam muttered, walking out, and he didn’t even know how Sam had heard that, but he wasn’t too focused on that when Sam walked out wearing a shirt that clung to every part of his skin and jeans that seems to perk up his ass even more than before (which Bucky didn’t even know was possible). Bucky choked on his spit, and Sam winced, “Is it that bad?”

Bucky slammed a fist against his chest as he coughed, “No, no, it’s- it looks fine. You look…good.”

“Really? I thought it would be too tight-”

“No!” Bucky exclaimed, perhaps a bit too quickly as Sam had jumped a little, “It’s fine. It looks fine.” Bucky’s cheeks flushed as he pushed himself up, “Are we done here?”

Sam studied his face for a few moments, “Yeah. We are.”

“Okay. Now you can wear your own clothes instead of mine.” Bucky groveled, walking to his room and not paying attention to the eyes on his back. Sam was attractive, that was blatantly obvious, but Bucky couldn’t allow himself to be attracted to his ‘roommate’ or the man that was likely to be a criminal. He wasn’t built for lasting relationships either way.

____

Bucky is starting to realise that getting Sam new clothes may have been pointless as he looked at the man get into the car with one of his sweaters on. By the third time he had noticed Sam still wearing his clothes, he decided not to mention that he has his own clothes as the other man would just pretend he didn’t hear him and continue whatever activity he was immersed in.

“You got everything?” Bucky asked, starting the car. They were going to the cafe to give away some free pastries to the homeless, something that they did weekly to help the surrounding area, however this time, Nat asked Bucky to bring Sam around.

“I don’t have anything to bring,” Sam snorted, doing his seatbelt up. “I do have a question though.” Bucky hummed as he began driving to their destination, “With…the homeless. Why do you guys do this as often as you do?”

Bucky tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for a mother and child to cross the street, glancing over at Sam, “It’s the only right thing to do. These people are without homes and have nowhere to go, so any help we can give, we provide.”

Sam tilts his head, “Like me?”

Bucky’s mind freezes for a little bit. He’d hadn’t thought about that in a while, the fact that without his offering of Sam to stay with him, he would’ve had nowhere to go. “...yeah. Yeah, I guess. Like you.”

When they made their way to the cafe, Nat was already outside of it handing them boxes filled with different baked goods. They all began walking down the road to the street where many homeless people resided, and Nat took this as her chance to interrogate them.

“So, Sam.” Sam looked up, surprised to be mentioned as he’d been walking along Bucky’s side as the long haired man and the woman talked about everything under the moon. “How long have you been friends with Bucky here?”

Bucky was about to defend himself, but Sam already started responding, “A week and a half, I think. I wouldn’t say he’s a loser, though. He puts up with me everyday, and that just makes him generous.”

“Everyday, huh?” Nat smirked, and Bucky already knew where this was going. She was definitely going to grill him about it later, and she was most definitely going to tell Steve.

“Uh, yeah? It’d be hard not to see him when I’m living in his living room.” Sam peeked around the side of the boxes as they blocked his eyesight, and Nat’s smirk somehow widened, her eyes wide in shock. Before Nat could say anything else, they made it to their destination, and her playfulness quickly turned into professionalism.

“Right, okay. Bucky, you know where to go. I’ll stick in the middle and see if anyone needs water or has any additional needs, and Sam, you give the left side everything you got. Got it?” Nat commanded, looking in between the both of them, Bucky nodded sternly once, whereas Sam nodded slowly and with more hesitance. Bucky could tell he was nervous as his leg had been bouncing the whole car ride over, repeatedly asking if there was anything he shouldn’t do. But, he couldn’t focus on that now as he moved over to the right side of the area, seeing familiar faces and new ones all the same.

“Hi everyone. It’s nice to see you again, and meet some of you for the first time. I’m Bucky, and I’ve got some baked goods from the Golden Cafe just a few minutes down the street, if you’d like any.” Bucky stated, something that just rolled off the tongue nowadays. The majority in front of him replied with a synchrony of murmured yesses and exclaimed thank yous. He made quick work of it after that, opening the boxes and going around to each person with different pastries in hand. He had handed out about one box when he got to Delilah, an older woman who he had seen every time he had gone there. She was around his own mother’s age, and even had similar eyes to her, so he felt an urge of protectiveness towards her.

“Bucky, my boy. Where have you been? You didn’t come by last week,” Delilah complained, reaching out to tap his cheek affectionately, but Bucky just backed away politely.

“It wasn’t my shift, ma’am. I’m glad to see you today though,” He winked and Delilah rolled her eyes, dropping her hand.

“Ever the flirt you are. How have you been?” Delilah asked, now looking down to look at the different pastries and pick out her favourites that Bucky pretends he didn’t bring over just for her.

With her attention diverted, Bucky took this as his chance to turn his head slightly and catch sight of how Sam was doing. Currently, Sam was crouched down in front of a young boy, no older than 20, speaking gently, probably in that same tone that Bucky heard him use for the birds whenever they went on walks. The boy was looking at him with bright eyes, and Bucky felt a sense of pride fill his chest.

“That your boyfriend? I’ve never seen him before.” Bucky whipped his head forward to see that Delilah had already taken her pastries and was watching him with squinted eyes.

“Uh, no, ma’am.” Bucky cleared his throat, his entire body feeling hot at the simple question. “He’s just my…roommate.”

Delilah watched him with a studying gaze, “Roommate, huh? I always thought that boy Steve would be your roommate. You used to tell me about him always trying to convince you to move in together.”

“It’s a…recent accommodation.” Bucky tucked a hair from the front of his face, saying his goodbyes to Delilah and moving over to another person instead. It was a few more minutes until he felt a presence at his side as he was grabbing another batch of pastries.

“Delilah tells me you like Sam.”

Bucky spluttered, looking at Natasha in bewilderment, “What? I don’t.”

Nat just shrugged, leaning against a pole and watching him, “Delilah’s pretty trustworthy, don’t you think? She claims she saw it in your eyes.”

“There’s nothing in my eyes. Not for Sam.” Bucky defended, not looking up at her as he filled his hands with water and boxes of food.

“So there’s someone else?”

“What? Nat, there’s nobody. Where is this coming from?” Bucky was confused on why Nat kept bringing Sam up like this. She’d been asking a lot about Sam ever since she saw him in the cafe, but Bucky refused to give her any information about their living arrangements or how they had a list of things for Bucky to do with Sam. He kept his responses limited to he’s fine and please stop telling me to fuck him.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that you and Sam met through him taking your wallet, and you just let him move in with you, even though it’s something Steve has been begging you about for years, claiming that you needed space. And Sam here is wearing your clothes and you spent everyday together. It’s…it’s not like you, Bucky. You’ve never been sociable like that. You even let him call you James. You hate it when people call you that.”

Sam’s different, Bucky wanted to say. When Sam called him James, it didn’t feel strange like when other people would say it. He didn’t know what it was about Sam, but something was different. Even if he had a pretty secretive background and had no online presence, he was different in a way that Bucky found himself interested in. He was interested in why Sam was secretive, and why he knew nothing about anything, and why his culture wore wings as a part of their clothing. But, he couldn’t say that, so he just glared at Nat and said, “Natasha. Drop it.” He could tell that Nat wanted to say more, but she just scrutinized him for a few moments and walked away, making Bucky release a shaky breath that he hadn’t realised he was holding. Throughout the rest of the shift, he handed out bottles and got to know all the people that hadn’t been in that area before. The people he did know, though, almost all of them mentioned Sam’s sincerity, someone even telling him to check up on him as they had said they’d seen Sam with teary eyes as he gave them a bottle of water. Bucky had been shocked at the words, confused as to why Sam would be upset and what had caused the teary eyes. He kept that in mind as they left the shift, Sam thanking Nat for inviting him and that he’d like to do it again at some point. Bucky still kept it in mind as he told Sam that they needed to go shopping for groceries, especially as Sam kept eating the bread, and Sam only gave him a half smile in response, not teasing back or going on a rant about how good bread was like he usually would. He was still thinking of it while they were in the dessert aisle and his phone began to buzz in his pocket. Taking it out, he should’ve expected the name that popped up on his phone.

“Steve?” Bucky answered.

“Oh, hey Buck! Where have you been?” Steve exclaimed cheerily down the line.

Bucky just cut to the chase, “I’m sure Nat has told you.”

He heard Steve sigh, “She did. I’m not angry, by the way. Annoyed that you moved in with this rando, yes, but angry, never. If anything, I’m a bit proud. Nat tells me he’s cute.” Steve teased, and Bucky groaned, running a hand down his face. The noise made Sam look up from where he was putting way too many ice cream sandwiches in the trolley with furrowed eyebrows. Bucky just waved him off, and Sam nibbled on his lip for a bit until he began pushing the shopping cart into another section while Bucky followed a few steps behind.

“We’re not like that, Steve.”

“Is that so? Nat told me he was wearing your shirt.” Steve said, and Bucky could tell the little shit was grinning.

“Maybe Nat should stop focusing on my clothes. I’m hanging up-”

“Wait!”Steve exclaimed, “Could I meet him? It’s been years since you’ve made a friend, and if you like him so much to let him live with you, we’d probably be good friends too. Please, Buck?”

Bucky groaned once again, sighing a bit. Now that he did think about it, Sam and Steve probably would be good friends with the way they were both so passionate and stubborn. Although, the thought did make Bucky’s stomach twist. “...Maybe. Maybe, okay? I’ll think about it. Bye, Steve.”

He heard a loud ‘bye!’ on the phone before he hung up and focused his expression on Sam who was putting some orange juice in the cart. Even though it had only been almost two weeks, Sam didn’t wear the same confused expression he used to about everything, and with how often they frequented this store, Bucky didn’t have to tell him where things were as often, the other man knowing it off by heart. Bucky almost mourned it.

“Hey. Sam?” Sam hummed as a reply, something he had picked up from Bucky. “Are you…okay? Someone from earlier told me that you got a bit emotional.”

Bucky watched as Sam froze in his movements, although for a split second, he had caught the slight shake in Sam’s hands on the handle of the shopping cart. Noticing this, Bucky slipped his hands alongside Sam’s and stepped into his space, making the other man catch the hint and let Bucky take over. He thought Sam wasn’t going to respond as it was silent as they walked down the aisle, but suddenly as he responded softly, “It was nothing.”

“...Sam.” Bucky urged, and Sam looked up at him, and looked back at the products.

“Okay. Fine, pretty boy,” Bucky really didn’t know where he got that from, and quite frankly, he didn’t want to know. “It’s just…I don’t know. When I was back home, me and my family used to do something similar for the less fortunate,” He reached out to grab some cereal, shoving it in the cart, “Even though we don’t have money and currency like you guys do, we still have higher ups. Kings, queens, knights…the whole spiel. I was luckily fortunate to have education and all that, but some people weren’t. Me and my siblings used to go around and teach them anything we could, we’d give them food and water just like today.”

Bucky hadn’t known that Sam had siblings, and it was rare that Sam would share like this without immediately saying secret for secret afterwards, so he allowed himself to admire Sam’s vulnerability, simply asking, “Do you get homesick often?”

Sam looks back at him from where he walked slightly ahead, his eyes gentle and sincere as he said, “All the time.”

_____

With Sam in the house for the past 2 weeks, Bucky had been unable to sleep properly throughout the night, afraid of what would happen. Bucky knew that when he slept, the nightmares would come, and when they came, he would thrash, scream, grunt. How would Sam react to that? Most times, the dreams weren’t about firefighting and the lives he’d lost there, but the lives he’d contributed taking in the job beforehand. He wasn’t proud of his contribution with the program he was in, it being an easy way he could get money for his sick sister. But tonight, his nightmare wasn’t about anyone else’s lives but his own, the night he lost his arm. He had been on a mission for the job when it had gone wrong, his mind had blocked it out sometimes but he’d get flashes in his sleep like he was right now. It felt as if he was watching himself, but he was within his body at the same time. He watched himself take that wrong step whilst trying to dodge the creature that was attacking him, sending him sliding off the side of the train. For a few seconds, he was able to hang onto the side, but each finger began to slip off, one by one, by one by-

Bucky snapped upwards in his bed with a shout, sweat dripping down his revealed chest as he held himself up with his hands pressed on the bed behind him. Sighing shakily, he lifted his left hand through his hair to cool him down and get it out of his face. It was still dark outside, him being able to tell through the slips of the curtain. The room was filled with his heavy pants, making it basically impossible to hear the soft footsteps that were coming up to his room, and the knocks, although gentle, made him jump.

“James? Are you okay?” Sam questioned, his voice quiet but loud enough to make Bucky think that he was pressed up against the door.

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for waking you, go back to sleep.” Bucky pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, minutely embarrassed that Sam had heard him. There was a pause outside, long enough to make Bucky think that Sam had gone back to the couch, but there was the creak of his door and when he peeked through his fingers, Sam’s face was within the crack of the door.

“Can I…Can I come in?” Sam wore a worried expression on his face, his eyebrows turned upwards and his mouth downturned. Bucky figured there was no point and removed his hands from his face and flopping backwards onto his bed and clenching his eyes shut, hoping that Sam would take the hint. He could hear the door creaking further open, a few more featherlike steps and a dip on the side of his bed, near his left arm. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“It’s nothing, Sam. You didn’t have to come in here.” Bucky muttered, his throat still raspy from the aftermath of sleep. Sam’s watchful gaze was on him, he could feel it. From Bucky himself, it was a shock to admit that the stare Sam would sometimes give was unnerving. It was like a bird studying the movements of its prey.

“I don’t like to be alone after mine.” Sam admitted quietly, making Bucky slowly open his eyes, looking up at Sam who was with one of his legs bent up onto Bucky’s bed, and the other resting on the ground so he could twist to look at Bucky. “I know you’re all big, bad and ominous, but I thought you’d want some company. You can tell me if you want me to leave.”

Bucky debated the question. He was used to experiencing nightmares by himself now, and even back when he was sleeping at the firestation, his team members knew not to question him about it. Well, except for Steve. Steve would wear that same expression that made him look like a wounded dog, making obvious glances at Bucky throughout the rest of the shift until urging him to open up and get it out. Although annoying, it made Bucky feel good to feel loved and cared for.

“...Don’t go.” Bucky whispered, watching Sam smile softly, a smile that he was pretty sure he only smiled at him, but he was probably exaggerating. They sat there for a while, Bucky catching his breath, perching himself up on his elbows and Sam just watching him intently, flicking all around his face like he was trying to see every small change that occurred. Suddenly, Sam’s hand rose to him, making Bucky flinch and Sam withdrew his hand slightly.

“Sorry, I- I forget you don’t like physical touch all that much,” Bucky didn’t. Unless it was from Steve, other people touching him felt uncomfortable and itchy, but he wasn’t sure how Sam would’ve known that if he wasn’t watching how he interacted with people. “But…can I try something? It used to help my- my friend. When he’d have his nightmares. He didn’t have your gorgeous locks, but it seemed to do the trick with him. No funny business, I promise.” Sam offered, Bucky watching him closely to study him, but he knew he didn’t have the same gaze that Sam did.

He was about to say no, but Steve had been telling him that sometimes he needed to extend the bubble of people he trusted, and Sam was basically tearing the bubble open at this point, so closwhat could trying something new hurt? Everything, probably. “...Sure.” Bucky spoke, knowing his voice was still gargled, but Sam just nodded and shuffled the slightest bit closer to Bucky’s side. Cautiously and slowly, he reached his hand out, as if making sure that Bucky saw his every movement that he was taking. Eventually, his hand reached Bucky’s forehead, and he ran his fingers delicately through the strands, uncaring of the sweat that drenched it. He kept his eyes on Bucky, and Bucky assumed it was so he could keep looking at his face, however he couldn’t comprehend the intensity of the stare with how soothing the hands in his scalp were, so he just closed his eyes and unconsciously pushed his head up into Sam’s hand. He was so relaxed that he almost missed Sam’s words.

“You didn’t wake me, by the way. Early riser, remember?” His tone was gentle, and it made Bucky feel sick at how intimate the whole ordeal was.

“It’s still dark outside. How early do you wake up?” Bucky scrunched his face, disgusted by the thought of even purposefully waking up this early.

Sam chuckled deeply, probably at Bucky’s face, “It’s around 5:30, right now. I wake up when the birds sing.”

“I can’t believe you just said that. You need to stop watching so many movies,” Bucky mumbled, making Sam laugh a bit more, his hands moving so they cradled each side of his face, his fingers still in his hair while his thumb massaged at Bucky’s temples. Bucky opened his eyes, making direct eye contact immediately, and he had no choice but to stay looking at him with Sam’s hands like that. He cleared his throat, “When you came in here, you said ‘I don’t like to be alone after yours.’ You have nightmares?” Bucky looked at Sam’s lips as he took the bottom one between his teeth, chewing absentmindedly.

“Yeah. It’s only like once every few days, though. Not to the same extent as yours, though. I hear you when I wake up sometimes. The shuffling, all that. I didn’t know if it was just you being an active sleeper, or something else. Now I know, I can’t imagine how hard it is for you.”

Bucky frowned, their eye contact broken by Sam looking up at his hands working in Bucky’s hair instead of his eyes. Bucky couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted to see what he was doing, or if he felt awkward talking about himself. “Sam, just because you don’t have them as often as I do, doesn’t mean you don’t have them. I’m here if you need to talk, you know that, right?” Bucky hadn’t known that himself, but even as the words slipped out of his mouth, he didn’t regret it. He truly meant what he said.

“Hey. When did this become about me? I’m trying to comfort you here.” Sam huffed frustrated and Bucky tried not to laugh at his screwed up facial features.

“And I thank you for that,” Bucky pulled Sam’s hands away from his face, resting them on the mattress before pulling his own hands away, “I’m just saying. I’m just a hallway away.”

Sam peered at him like he liked to do for a bit, taking in his words. He just sighed and nodded, and Bucky felt like he had won something priceless. He began to lift himself off Bucky’s bed, and Bucky wasn’t really ready to be alone yet, but he just allowed it. However, before leaving, Sam turned back to him with a curious gaze, “How about we don’t do anything off the list today? You had a late shift yesterday, and you woke up early. We can have rest days. We don’t always have to be doing something special.”

Bucky was very thankful for Sam. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

Sam beamed, “Thanks…Bucky.”

“James.” Bucky corrected, and Sam’s eyes seemed to be the brightest light in the room.

“James.” Sam repeated.

_________

It was raining outside. The first tell-tale sign that summer really was over, the cascading of the water drops on the living room windows making a chorus within the room. Bucky was in the kitchen pretending to pour himself some water as he tried to figure out how to ask the man the question. Nat had called earlier that day asking if she could take Sam out to the club, saying that he needed more friends than Bucky, and that Bucky would turn him into a homebody. Bucky had said he wasn’t sure, and Nat reminded him that he owed her from when he left work early all those weeks ago. Bucky was annoyed at the fact she was right and gave in, saying he would ask Sam, saying that he was sure Sam would say yes. And that’s the thing, he was sure that Sam would say yes, but he began to wonder, and what if Sam realised how boring Bucky was and he wanted to go somewhere else. Bucky knew that Sam had said that he didn’t have anywhere else to go, so where would he even go? What if he met someone at the club and they really hit it off and they moved in together? It didn’t take Sam long to move in with him. Of course, Bucky wouldn’t mind because he’d get his space back, but what if? In the end, Bucky stopped his thoughts and looked over to Sam who was sitting on the couch, reading a book he had probably (definitely) stolen from Bucky’s book shelf in his bedroom. Although, it was strange. Sam seemed to be on the same page that he was on 10 minutes ago when Bucky had asked him where he put the cheese grater. In fact, he wasn’t even looking at the words on the page, his head turned out to the window with a shaded frown on his lips. Bucky filled his cup with water and made his way over to the couch.

“Hey,” Bucky said, making Sam turn around with wide eyes like hadn’t heard Bucky coming, “I got you water.” He heard Sam mumble a thanks before he turned and looked out the windows again, with that same downturned look on his face. Bucky tilted his head and bent to sit down beside Sam, “You okay?”

Sam didn’t even look back, “Do you ever wonder what the birds feel in weather like this?”

That just wasn’t even relevant to anything Bucky had just asked. “What? Oh yeah. Sure. All the time.”

There must’ve been something in his tone because Sam immediately turned, once again studying the features of Bucky’s face before squinting, “What?”

“What? I said that-”

“I heard you, dipshit,” Bucky needed to stop teaching Sam these words every time they came up on the TV. “I said what because you’ve got that tone on you. What do you need to say?”

“How did you know?” Bucky dropped his shoulders and leant back on the couch.

“You get this tone. Go ahead, shoot.” Sam raised an eyebrow and Bucky just shrugged.

“Nat’s asking if you want to hang out with her. Tonight.” Something big, green and mean twirled through Bucky’s stomach as the words escaped his mouth.

“Where to?”

“The club. It’s fun, I’m sure you’d like it, like in the movies we watch. It’s dancing, basically.”

“Will you be there?” Sam stretched the blanket out to cover Bucky’s legs too, curling his legs up beneath him.

“No. Just you and Nat. She thinks you need to hang out with more people than just me.” Bucky threw a laugh in his last words that sounded fake to his own ears, and he expected Sam to immediately jump up and say yes, but the man just looked at Bucky with a blank expression.

“I thought she didn’t like me.” Sam frowned, and Bucky’s heart hurt thinking back to when Sam had overheard that one conversation they had.

“She does, she does. Sometimes, she seems a bit standoffish, but you’d get along, trust me.” Bucky confirmed, watching as Sam chewed his lip anxiously.

“…I don’t know her.”

Bucky laughed, shocked that Sam would even say such a thing, “You moved in with me when you barely knew me.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest defensively, “You bailed me out and brought me here. I quite literally had no choice.”

“You say that like I kidnapped you. Do you not remember that I woke up and you were just in my apartment?”

“Would you rather I left you on the concrete? Because I swear to God, James, I will figure out a way to go back in time and walk past you.”

And of course, Bucky didn’t want that, but just to be stubborn, he glared at Sam, who just glared back with the exact same intensity. Unlike normally, Sam broke his stare early, just staring at the black TV screen. His lips were pursed and his face tense, making Bucky’s hardened gaze soften. “I thought you loved dancing and people. With the homeless, they told me never to come without you again.”

Sam looked at Bucky with a seemingly disgusted face, like he didn’t know Bucky at that moment. “Did you expect me to be mean to them? And you think I love people? When was the last time you saw me speaking to someone other than you?”

Bucky thought about this for a moment, racking through his brain for moments when he’s sure that Sam had been sociable with others. However, nothing of significance popped up immediately. Although Sam always smiled at people on the street, he would only smile because they smiled first, and even so, his smile would completely drop after, like he was forcing himself to do the action. Even with Nat, they had barely had any sort of conversation and Sam never stood directly beside her, Bucky being a force between them.

Sam watched him for a moment before speaking again, “I love what people here have made, not people. You may think I’m trustworthy, but where I’m from, we don’t really like people…from here. The violence, mostly. And, I like to keep to myself.” To us was left unsaid.

Bucky desperately wanted to ask why Sam found him so trustworthy if he truly didn’t trust people like that, but just left it. “Sam. I get it, I really do. But,” I don’t want you to be in the same boat as me, “It could be good for you. You could meet new people, learn how to be more… open. Get to know new people and learn to get out of your shell.”

“Sounds like you just want me out of your home.” Sam looked at him, raising an eyebrow but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. Small wins.

“Sam.”

“Bucky.”

“James.” Bucky corrected and Sam rolled his eyes.

“James,” He repeated, searching Bucky’s eyes, and Bucky stayed still, trying not to break underneath that intentful look. Sam rolled his eyes again, “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go.” Sam raised a finger before Bucky could get too extra, “But if it’s terrible, Barnes, you owe me. Like you really, really, really fuckin’ owe me.”

“Deal.”

-

The apartment was weird without Sam. Usually, there’d be a bit of sound from whatever Sam was watching on the television, or his soft hums from a random song that he’d heard on the radio. But now, it was deathly silence. Bucky couldn’t stand it. They had only been living with one another for just about 3 weeks and Bucky was already used to all the noise. Beforehand, Bucky was used to the apartment being relatively quiet, the only sounds being the streets of New York. But now, there were traces of Sam everywhere and they were loud: the copious amount of bread they had, the makeshift bed on the couch, the bird food that was always left on the windowsill. Sometimes, Bucky would still find feathers from Sam’s wing costume but no costume in sight. It was strange and Bucky guessed that Sam just wore the costume every time he left for a shift. A way of connecting to home.

Anyway, like Bucky was saying, he couldn’t stand it, so he ended up messaging Steve asking him if he wanted to hang out, and instantly he got a reply of ‘On my way!’ He didn’t know if that was the automation of the phone, or just Steve typing. It wasn’t long until Steve barged in, abusing the use of his key like always, holding a crate of beer. When Steve caught sight of Bucky, he immediately smiled, wrapping him up in a hug that Bucky just awkwardly tapped him throughout. Steve pulled away, hands still on Bucky’s shoulders when he glanced around the area, his face dropping.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Is that the reason you came?” Bucky grunted, pulling away from Steve and moving them over to the barstools. “I thought Nat would’ve told you. They’re out at the club.”

“A date?”

Steve waggled his eyebrows, and Bucky knew it was bait, but he still fell for it as he immediately responded, “No, Steve. They’re just hanging out, okay? Sam needs to get out more, that’s all.” He opened the beer crate, grabbing a can and made quick work of opening it, swigging it back.

“Hm. I was excited to meet him. I guess I’ll just have to see him next time. Anyway, how are you, Buck? Long time, no see.” Steve asked, getting his own drink much more gracefully than Bucky had.

“You call me every other day.” Bucky pointed out, and Steve gave him a look, “Okay, fine. I’m good. Still having nightmares, but I’m fine. I’ve been able to work through them.” With Sam. “Work’s been fine, everything’s fine. What’s up with you, Rogers?”

“Oh, you know. Firefighting. Tony.”

Bucky smirked, “And how’s that going?”

Steve kicked his ankle, but still replied, “It’s good. Really good. We’re thinking of moving in together.”

Bucky smiled widely, “Wow, Steve, that’s great! I’m glad, after you guys kept running in circles around each other.”

“Whatever. I’m glad to hang out with you, though. I’ve missed you, pal.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

The pair spent their time catching up with one another, as ever since Sam had moved in, Bucky became more distracted, and Steve had become more distracted with Tony. It was just life, Bucky supposed. They ended up looking through old pictures with one another for hours, reminiscing about high school football and their firefighting days together. It was fun. Every time they’re together, it reminds Bucky how much he values Steve like a brother. They’d been through the absolute worst, and still found a way to stick together throughout all of it. Having someone who knew everything and wouldn’t judge him for it was something that Bucky held close to his chest. They were just getting to skinny Steve trying to play basketball when Bucky started getting a call.

He answered without looking, “Hello?”

“Bucky, you have got to come get your boyfriend. He is way too drunk right now,” Nat sounded a bit more carefree, making Bucky think that she was a bit drunk herself.

“What do you mean?” Bucky sat up straight, Steve watching him curiously.

“Are you stupid? Sam is wasted. I’d be surprised if he left here without falling, and I am not lugging him anywhere, anyhow.” Nat muffled near the end, Bucky hearing her shout over to someone, loud music blasting in the background. There was a lot of shuffling before a voice came from the phone once again.

“James?”

“Sam?”. Bucky watched as Steve’s expression brightened, completely abandoning the pictures in his hand and reaching over to grab the phone. Muttering ‘no’ underneath his breath, Bucky leaned as backwards as he could. “Nat tells me you’re drunk. How much have you had to drink?”

“I was taking it slow at first, I promise, like in the movies. But then, people kept ordering me things. They were free so I just said hell yeah. I’m a bit dizzy now.” Sam slurred down the line, and Bucky ran a hand down his face.

“Okay, Sam. I’m coming down now. You and Nat stay right where you are, okay?” Bucky commanded, and heard no reply on the other end before the line went dead. He looked up and Steve was already getting his jacket on.

-

The drive to the club thankfully wasn’t that long, Bucky and Steve both driving in their respective cars so they could both take one person home. It had been years since Bucky had been to a club like this, and the smell was already familiar inside his nose: sweat, sex, alcohol. It was sickening. They both made their way through, easy to spot the other pair due to Natasha’s bright red hair. They were sat side by side, Sam looking completely out of it while Natasha just watched him with a swaying but amused expression.

Walking up, Sam whipped his head up almost immediately, smiling a crooked smile as soon as he saw Bucky.

“James!” Sam exclaimed, standing up and making his way over, and Bucky could see Steve in his peripheral walking over to Natasha.

Sam almost crash-landed into Bucky, but the long-haired man grabbed his upper arms to help steady him, “Woah, there. I’m taking you home, Sam.”

Sam pouted a pout that was not adorable at all, “But, I’m having fun. I like Natasha. You were right.”

Bucky sighed, “It’s not safe for you two here drunk. Especially you.” Bucky glanced upwards to where Steve and Nat were sitting, but found the area empty. Simultaneously, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Steve must’ve been taking her home.

“I’m a grown ass man, James. I don’t need your help.” Sam complained, wriggling to try to pull away from Bucky's grasp, but the other man didn’t move an inch.

“Have you ever been drunk before?”

“…No.”

“There stands my point. Let’s go,” Bucky began to pull him away, but Sam just grappled his gloved hand.

“Wait,” Bucky stopped. “Could we dance? Just to one song?” Bucky looked behind him at the dance floor, filled with drunken sweaty people who were jumping like it was their mission. Sam must’ve seen the refusal ready on his lips as he started to plead his case, “It’ll help me get it out of my system. Like this, I’ll most definitely hack it up in your car. Please, Bucky?”

Bucky peered at Sam who looked at him with a pleading expression. Sadly, Sam was probably right. A car drive with him drunk like this would probably make him feel even dizzier and end with a stained mess all over his car. For fuck’s sake. “James.” Bucky corrected with a scowl, and Sam knew he won.

“James.” Sam repeated, smiling as he pulled Bucky over to the dance floor hastily. However, Bucky expected to just stand still while Sam jumped around with other people who were as drunk and loud as he was, what he wasn’t expecting was for hands to wrap around him and a head to fall onto his shoulder, breath brushing against his neck. Jumping slightly, Bucky kept his hands hovering over Sam’s sides, unsure of where to put them, and he just settled on keeping them at his own sides while the shorter man clung onto him like a koala.

“I had fun. Thanks for forcing me to go.”

“I didn’t force you.” Bucky immediately defended, and he could feel Sam’s body vibrate against his chest as he laughed.

“Right. I didn’t make any other friends like you said, but Natasha is nice, cool. Way better at brooding and being mysterious than you.”

“Ouch?”

Sam giggled (Giggled. What was Bucky’s life?) as he began to sway them in a pace that didn’t match the music in any way whatsoever, and it was quite unsuccessful, actually, as Bucky kept his feet planted to the ground.

“Loosen up. I won’t bite.” Sam muttered, and Bucky felt every word caress his neck.

“You’re drunk.”

“I am. But, I’m not naïve.” Sam recalled, the whisper on Bucky’s skin causing goosebumps erupt all over. Sam was so close, his skin warm against Bucky’s own heated skin, and it combined felt like a complete furnace. Bucky closed his eyes, basking in the moment for a bit as he slowly, very slowly, moved his arms to rest lightly at Sam’s sides, lifting one foot, and then the other, helping Sam sway them to a much more normal pace than the awkward one that the drunken man was doing. There was a content sigh from the again pressed up against his chest, the arms around him squeezing even tighter.

“When you wake up, you’re either going to regret it or forget it.” Bucky mentioned, and he could feel Sam shaking his head.

“If I don’t forget it, I won’t regret it,” Sam moved impossibly closer, “I got you to dance again.”

Bucky didn’t know why that made his eyes feel wet. Maybe it was the fact that Sam had remembered what he had told him, even while drunk, or maybe because he was thinking of Becca seeing him now, finally somewhat dancing with someone other than her. Subconsciously, his hands pressed firmer on Sam’s sides.

“Besides,” Sam suddenly said, making Bucky look down at him as best as he could on his shoulder, “I trust you.”

“You do?” Bucky’s tone was impossibly gentle, something he didn’t even know he had in him.

“Yeah. You’re a good guy. A hero.” Sam got quieter and quieter as he spoke, nuzzling further into Bucky’s neck while Bucky tried to untangle his words mentally. What did he mean by Bucky being a hero? Did he know about him being a firefighter? It’s not like he had ever told Sam, but Sam could’ve easily found out from the random badges that were dangling on the wall. Or it could very easily be the fact that Bucky had quite literally kept Sam off the streets. That was way more likely. Bucky had been so into his own head that he hadn’t realised that he was practically holding Sam’s entire weight as he slumped over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bucky pushed Sam slightly away who just complained groggily, “How about I get you home?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

-

“I hate you.” Sam grunted, kneeling and holding onto each side of the toilet seat.

“It’s not my fault you drank so much.” Bucky was leaning against the bathroom door, watching amusedly, and worriedly, at Sam throwing up his entire insides into the bowl.

“Yes it was,” Sam hissed, “You forced me to go. You forced me to live here. If I didn’t live here, I wouldn’t be hungover.”

“Would you rather I left you in the club? Or on the streets?” Bucky mocked, repeating what Sam had told him the day before.

“Oh, that’s low, Barnes.” Sam groaned, and Bucky would be lying if he said that raspy tone didn’t get him going a bit. Sam started hacking it up again, and Bucky told him that he’d be right back as he went over to the kitchen to get a cup of water. In the end, Sam hadn’t remembered anything about their dance and just parts of the drive home when he decided that he wanted a greasy cheeseburger from the food van they drove past. A very expensive cheeseburger at that. Somehow, Sam had remembered everything about that, even down to what ingredients were in the sauce and what brand of bread was used for the buns. It kind of made Bucky jealous.

Later that day, Sam was taking a hardcore nap in Bucky’s bed after 30 minutes of pleading (to be fair, sleeping on the couch with a hangover like that must’ve been extremely uncomfortable.) Bucky was making Sam a hangover lunch when his phone rang.

“Nat? How are you feeling?”

“Just splendid, Bucky.” She growled, her words dripping with sarcasm, “How’s my new friend?”

“Cranky. But sleeping, right now.” Bucky grabbed a post-stick note, writing in scribbles: Drink all the water and eat everything. Being stubborn won’t help either of us.

“Ah, I’m glad he’s getting his rest, but I’m not calling just to check in. There was something he said yesterday.” Bucky hummed and she continued to speak, “He said he wants to work shifts at the cafe.”

Bucky stopped trying to stick the post-stick onto the side of the plate, “What?”

“Yeah. Completely sober, too. He said he felt bad for relying on you and spending all your money all the time. And he said he wanted to keep on giving away the food. I just wanted to ask you to speak to him about it.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Huh. Bucky hadn’t known that Sam had been feeling guilty about it. In fact, the thought of Sam working sent a weird feeling throughout his body. He knew Sam was entitled to do whatever, but he had sort of enjoyed providing for someone else for once, instead of someone constantly checking on him. But if it was what Sam wanted, he didn’t want to deny him that.

______

It had been an entire month of living with Sam and Bucky was enjoying it way more than he should. Sam became a constant in his life, someone who would wake him up in the morning and force him to go out and do something new, or go to the new Chinese restaurant that just opened. It was nice. Sam was nice. Bucky had almost forgotten about how the man had no immediate presence on the internet, but he started to wonder if something had happened in the past that made him go off the grid like this, he was so secretive about it that Bucky wouldn’t be surprised. Besides, Sam wasn’t a threat. He was just a guy who had moved from an unnamed place and was new to the area. Bucky wasn’t afraid of that.

Right now, it was one of their rest days. Although it wasn’t raining outside, the October weather was getting pretty breezy as the days went along, Halloween decorations were suddenly appearing overnight, and more people other than Bucky were beginning to wear gloves. Bucky hated the cold, sure, but he loved the experience of watching everyone become so calm and comfy throughout the colder seasons. It made him wonder what Sam was like during these seasons. He was already an affectionate guy, would he become more clingy? Or more distant.

Bucky shook his head, as if trying to shake these thoughts from his brain. He was getting distracted from the Sudoku that was resting on his lap. Sighing, he pushed up his reading glasses to get focused again, but it lasted a short while as his door swung open.

“We’re going out!” Sam exclaimed, flopping himself onto Bucky’s bed so he was laying in front of Bucky’s crossed legs, looking up at him.

Bucky put his pen down, sighing, once again, “I thought it was a rest day.”

“It is. But, I want to treat you.” Sam pouted, making Bucky move his Sudoku book over Sam’s face, smothering him a bit as the other man laughed. “Okay, okay okay! I’m serious though! Let’s go out to eat. I’ll pay.”

Bucky lifted the book and looked down at Sam. Recently, Sam had had his first shift in the Golden Cafe, and Clint had thought he had done so well that he told Nat to give him his first paycheck that very same day. Nat, secretly generous although she tried to hide it, immediately gave in and gave Sam some money for his work. Sam had been whistling happily when he came home that day. “You gonna pay me back for everything I’ve paid for alongside that?”

 

“No, definitely not.” Sam scrunched his face up before smiling widely, “But, I will pay for dinner.”

Bucky already knew his answer but he paused for dramatic effect, “...This better be good, Sam.”

-

It was better than good, it was great. The food was amazing and had all different types of flavours, spices that Bucky definitely couldn’t handle (Sam had laughed at him), and drinks that were so addictive and strong that Bucky thought that he could get drunk off of one sip. He looked over at Sam across from him, who was practically downing his drink. Reaching out, he grabbed the drink and put it onto the table.

“At ease, tiger. We don’t want a repeat of the club happening again.” Bucky teased, and he’s sure if Sam could, he’d be blushing right now.

“That wasn’t my fault. They were free!” Sam leaned back, embarrassed and looking out at the nightlife. Bucky just hummed and stole some food from Sam’s plate, the other man tried to slap his hand away but was unsuccessful in his attempts.

Bucky cracked his fingers awkwardly as he glanced over at Sam, clearing his throat, “I just want to say thank you…for this. Dinner, I guess.”

Sam did his Bucky smile, perhaps with a bit more eyes, “It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me. I don’t know where I would be without you. So, I’m trying to appreciate that with the meal. That’s I’m buying you so-” He slaps Bucky’s hand away once again, “Eat your own.”

Bucky frowned jokingly, then laughed to himself before going back to his food again. The conversations just flowed between them naturally, and perhaps unnaturally with how comfortable Bucky felt speaking to Sam like this. Usually, Bucky would brood at the side with one word answers when people spoke to him, but something about Sam made him want to open up and give the same energy, so that’s what he did for the whole night: gave Sam the same energy. And it felt carefree, like he was flying and was never going to fall. It felt like that with Sam sometimes. They ended up ordering some dessert, and while they were waiting, Sam was giving him that stare again, making him raise an eyebrow.

“What was your sister like? Secret for secret.” Sam said it like it was a suggestion, that Bucky really didn't have to answer. Sam had known about how sensitive the topic was, as with his hawk eyes, he probably saw how Bucky would slightly frown every time her name was brought up. But, tonight was a nice dinner, and the lights were dim, and nobody but Sam was listening.

“Becca was…headstrong. In an amazing, powerful way. She knew she was the only one who could call me stupid and get away with it, but that was because she was so, so much smarter than me. In every way possible. Before she got sick, she would force me to dance and sing with her at least once a week, no matter how frustrated I was. She liked to read, watch movies, go on nature walks, shit like that. I think you two would’ve gotten along.” Bucky smiled at the memories, and didn’t catch sight of the way that Sam’s eyes were blinking heavily, as if not to cry. Bucky looked at him, and decided that tonight was one of the ones where he had to push. “Why is where you’re from so secretive?”

Sam obviously didn’t expect that question as the smile that he wore for Becca slowly faded away, and he chewed his bottom lip, an anxious tic of his. Bucky was just about to take back his words when Sam opened his mouth, “We don’t…have a good reputation here. My people don’t like your people and it’s this whole thing.” But, I like you. Bucky thought unwillingly, “My past and my home are things I hold very close to my heart. I want to protect them, and protect myself. It may be selfish, but I don’t want to get hurt.”

Bucky watched him intently, the waitress coming over and resting the brownie and ice cream in front of them, but they hardly noticed it as they watched one another. “Okay. I won’t push again.” Sam’s expression became surprisingly saddened, and he looked back out the window. The New York City lights were shining tonight, making them bounce from Sam’s porcelain skin, and Bucky couldn’t stop himself from thinking that even with that sad face, he looked undeniably beautiful.

“I need to tell you something.” Sam blurted, turning to look at Bucky who had jumped back a bit from the abrupt words. Bucky hummed, nodding Sam on and he watched as Sam took a deep breath that was minutely shaky, even if he tried to hide it. “I’m leaving tonight.”

Bucky wasn’t expecting that.

“Not forever!” Sam rushed to say, “Just for…I’m not sure how long. But I have some things I need to do. I’ll come back, I can promise you that, James. It won’t be too long.”

Bucky’s throat closed up, but he still pushed his voice from the small airway, “Where?” When Sam didn’t respond, he had already gotten his answer. He scoffed, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms, “So this a goodbye dinner?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “I’m coming back. It’s a see you later dinner. And you’ll get your space back, right? You can lie in without me pulling you everywhere and wearing your clothes. It’s a win, in a way, right?”

It was not. Bucky had felt like just when his life was starting to feel right, it all crumbled. It was karma, he supposed, for everything he’s done. “Right. Okay.” He said blankly, looking out the window to avoid Sam’s observing, but the sudden hand on top of his made him look back.

“James. I’ll be back. No word of a lie. Just trust me in this?” Sam pleaded, his eyes gleaming and gorgeous and Bucky wanted to leave. Sam could see this, as he’s probably memorised every single one of Bucky’s facial movements by now. And Sam had said he was the starer when they first met. “Please?”

Bucky studied Sam’s face, and realised that if this was the last time they’d see each other, that wasn’t the face that Bucky wanted to remember being the last one he saw. “I trust you.”

Sam nodded in a nervous way, and Bucky had somewhat felt guilty about his standoffish attitude. “Thank you, James.”

Flickering both of his eyes between Sam’s, Bucky sighed, “Bucky.” He corrected.

Sam sparkled at the words, the corners of his mouth lifting up into a grin, “Bucky,” He repeated.

Bucky didn’t really remember the feeling of what it was like before Sam, that had all faded away. But somehow, it was all crawling back to him now.

He was going to be alone again.

Notes:

bye! sorry this chapter is 15k words, my finger slipped.

Chapter 3: three

Natasha looked at Bucky with a raised eyebrow as he dragged himself to make a frappucino. “Missing Sam, huh? Where did he even go? He was the best employee I’ve ever had.”

Bucky scoffed as he stirred the drink, “He only worked here for one day, Nat.”

“And that’s saying something,” Nat mumbled, just about loud enough for Bucky to hear, and he simply rolled his eyes and ignored her words. He didn’t miss Sam. Sure, he had been more grumbly and agitated more since Sam left, but that was because of the weather becoming colder, that’s all. Nothing to do with the uneasy silence that suffocated his apartment. Sometimes, he’d see things that reminded him of Sam: random feathers that jabbed him from the side of the couch, the heaps of bread that were in the cupboards, or just the simple sight of the birds perching on the side of the window. Somehow, Sam had developed a relationship with the birds, and Bucky often had to scold him for feeding them so much. Now, the birds would sit there, waiting for Sam to come back. They were like Bucky in that way. But, no. Bucky did not miss Sam. “Bucky! You’re about to stir that glass to death.”

Bucky snapped out of his thoughts, looking down to see the violent swirling of the drink in the aftermath of his (now pulled away) vicious hand. He sighed and moved onto the next steps, knowing that Nat was probably watching his every move, even if she was serving other customers. The rest of the shift went in the same direction, Bucky getting distracted and Nat having to remind him to actually do the work that was at hand. It’s not like he meant to be distracted. Sam had said he was When he finished up and was putting his stuff away, he saw Nat telling the new trainee to stay at the front for a second, but paid no mind to it as he put his apron at the back.

There was a sudden click-clacking behind him, that he assumed to be Nat, and his assumptions were right as he turned around to see her crossing her arms and looking up at him.

“What is it? Do you need me to stay a bit longer?”

Nat laughed abruptly, “The complete opposite, actually. Your grovelling face is scaring off the customers.” Bucky is pretty sure he grovelled at her words. “I’m just asking, are you sure you’re okay? For the past week you’ve been off. Coincidentally-”

“Why am I always on shift with you? Can you change that?” Bucky cut her off, moving to go beside her, and to the front so he could leave.

“I’m just asking, Bucky!”

_________

The sun beamed through the windows, but it was no match for the Autumn weather as Halloween neared. There were Halloween decorations all throughout the area, children dressed up even though there were still two days to go before it was actually the 31st of October. Bucky took a swig at his beer as he pretended to watch the news that was on the TV. He was waiting for Steve to come over, they’d been meeting a lot more to Steve’s delight and disbelief. Bucky would deny it if anyone asked, but the apartment felt way too big for just one person ever since he had left. It had been two weeks, and there was still not a word from the other man, leaving Bucky to wonder if he was truly ever going to come back, despite his promise.

“Honey, I’m home!” A voice called from the front door, making Bucky jump and whip his head to see Steve holding a bag of takeaway in his hands.

Bucky pushed himself off the couch, “What did I say about using your key without knocking first?”

Steve chuckled as he rested the takeaway on the dining room table, “What’s the point of having a key then? Anyways, I got the Chinese from around my place. They didn’t have your ribs you like, though.” He began unpacking the bag when he glanced up at the TV, “The news, Buck? Why don’t you watch one of those cooking shows you like?”

Bucky didn’t want to explain how those were the shows that he started with Sam, and how he didn’t want to watch them without him, so he just shrugged as a response while making his way over to the head of the dining room table. They both ate while conversing about everything and nothing. It was easy with Steve, every time they were separated for a while, it felt like there had been no time between them at all.

“Hey, I appreciate you inviting me over so much these past few weeks. I’ve missed you, punk.” Steve said through chewing a noodle that got stuck around his fork.

Bucky smiled in endearment, “Whatever. I’ve just been bored, I guess.”

“Without Sam?” Steve swallowed his food, and his smiling expression didn’t falter when Bucky gave him a deadly glare.

“It was a temporary stay. It didn’t matter whether he left then or now. It was inevitable. Why can’t you and Nat understand that?” Bucky sighed, taking a long, long drink of his beer while Steve watched him intently. He avoided Steve’s gaze for the longest time, until it eventually made him itchy, “Just say what you wanna say, Steve.”

“I’ve never met the guy, but you were calmer when he was here, I know that for sure. Don’t you think after everything you’ve been through you deserve just this one thing?” Steve said slowly, as if trying not to scare Bucky off.

“Steve. I already told you, we weren’t like that. He just needed somewhere to stay.” Bucky could feel a bout of anger flare up at the back of his neck and gripped the table to restrain himself. How was Steve still trying to push this? Even if Bucky was attracted to Sam that way (he wasn’t.), he couldn’t put someone through the process of being in a relationship with him. Bucky wasn’t made for relationships like that, that’s why he kept to himself and never tried anything. He didn’t deserve it. Besides, he didn’t even know if Sam was into men like that, so it was a lost chance.

“I know, I know,” Steve tilted his head side to side, “But you could do good with a new friend. It could probably…help you to get somewhere like that. It doesn’t even have to be with Sam. But, a new friend could be a stepping stone towards that-”

“Steve. I’ve told you before, even before I met Sam, and I’m telling you now. I’m not…fit for romantic relationships, okay? So, just drop it.” Bucky spoke sternly, but Steve just rolled his eyes and continued eating the food. That talk didn’t throw off the atmosphere of the rest of the meal, but it did get Bucky thinking. How could Steve think that he could get into a relationship after all he’s done? He had hooked up with many different people when he was a firefighter, lots of people liking the ‘savior’ aspect of it all.

But he wasn’t a savior.

Being a firefighter may have taken some of the weight off of his shoulders for his previous actions, but it didn’t erase them. It didn’t stop the terrified eyes of the people he’s hurt from being in his head when he closed his eyes. It would be selfish if he were to find someone and be happy when he had taken away that privilege from other people.

His thoughts were cut off by the knocking against the front door, and he turned his head sharply to look at Steve who was going through his fridge.

“I didn’t invite anyone!” Steve defended, attempting to raise his hands but they were filled with beers that he had grabbed from the fridge.

Bucky groaned and walked over to the door, opening it to see…halloween decorations? Well, not just Halloween decorations, but whoever was holding them had their identity covered by the bundle of decorations that almost piled to the top of Bucky’s doorway. However, Bucky could recognise those hands anywhere (he spent an unfortunate amount of time looking at them).

“Sam?” Bucky said, perplexed, and a head peeked out from the side of the decorations, revealing a sheepish Sam, and Bucky’s eyes immediately went to the patterns on both sides of Sam’s face, white and gold twisting together to form a beautiful combination of diamonds and flowers. But, he couldn’t fully study the beauty of it all as there was a crash behind him.

“Sam’s here?!” Steve yelled, quick footsteps making their way to the front door until Bucky felt a warm presence behind him.

Sam’s eyes flickered in between the pair with furrowed eyebrows, “Sorry, did I intrude-”

“No, no, no!” Steve exclaimed, grabbing Sam’s hand and pulling him into the space and over to the couch. Bucky was glad that Steve said something since he was still frozen in front of the door and he’d be damned if he let Sam get away again. In a totally platonic way. Obviously.

Slowly, Bucky closed the door and turned around to see Steve harassing Sam beside the couch. “Sam, right? I’ve heard so much about you!” Steve took the items out of the other man’s hands and rested them on the coffee table, his smile wider than any time he had seen Bucky. Wow, thanks, Steve.

“And I’ve not heard enough about you.” Sam huffed, stepping back as his eyes flicked over to Bucky, who was still simply watching him, in disbelief at the fact that Sam was there. “You must be Steve. It’s nice to finally see you in person. I’ve just seen the pictures that J- Bucky has left around here.”

“Aw,” He walked over to Bucky, pulled him over and ruffled his hair, making Bucky groan in discontent, “I’m glad to know that my pal loves me that much to still keep those pictures up.” Bucky was forced to look at Sam with the way that Steve had his arm wrapped around his shoulder, and it became more clear that the white and gold on his face trailed further down and beneath his shirt, the design even wrapped around Sam’s fingers. Bucky hadn’t even noticed.

“Yeah, he spoke about you with a lot of love.” His eyes didn’t leave Bucky as he spoke, but he wasn’t even looking into Bucky’s eyes. He was glancing at his different features, but every time that Bucky made eye contact, he’d avert his eyes and awkwardly smile at Steve.

Steve seemed to notice this as he slipped his hand away from Bucky’s shoulder and coughed uncomfortably, “Okayyy…So, what’s with the decorations?” Steve asked, nodding his head down to the table, making Sam smile.

“It’s Halloween soon, right?” Bucky recalled teaching Sam about the holidays when the other man had been afraid of how the children on the show they were watching were going up to random doors dressed in ‘barely realistic’ costumes (as Sam claimed), asking for candy. “I assumed grumpy here would have none. I’m glad I was right because this was a lot of money.”

Bucky took this as a time to speak, “Where did you even get the money?”

Sam seemed to be surprised that Bucky had directed a question towards him, but he smiled nonetheless, “You gave me an ‘emergency’ card. I think this counted as one.” Sam avoided Bucky’s gaze once again as he turned around to pick up a small ghost figurine, “I thought Bucky and I could, I don’t know, decorate it together. I didn’t know he would have visitors, I’m sorry. If I had known I wouldn’t have-”

“Don’t worry about that!” Steve waved his hands as he moved over to pick up orange and black tinsel from the table, “We could decorate all together. I’d love to get to know you.”

If Sam had wings, Bucky would bet that they would flutter at the words with the way he beamed and rose up onto his feet. But that smile was quickly replaced with a sense of nervousness that made Bucky twitch.

“If it’s okay with you, Bucky,” Sam tilted his head, waiting for an answer as his eyes finally met Bucky’s. It was strange to see him after so long, and how he was acting like nothing had happened. It made Bucky want to kick him out and lock him inside both at the same time. He had found a comfort in Sam being in the apartment all the time; the nightmares were still there, but Sam always comforted him throughout each one, and he found himself waking up early, waiting for someone to barge into his room and tell him that they needed to do something, but that someone never came. Even with how annoyed Bucky was that Sam left, he really didn’t want to decorate his apartment for a holiday that he didn’t even acknowledge with the guy. But, it would be awkward and weird if Bucky said no so that’s why he almost immediately replied with-

“Yeah, sure. Let me just clean up the dining table.” He was about to spend the longest time doing exactly that so he could avoid the situation at hand, but Sam placed the figurine on the coffee table and started making his way to the kitchen, saying I’ll help you out as he walked by. Bucky scoffed and turned at Steve who was smiling like the Sun was shining out of Sam’s ass. “What?” Bucky crossed his arms and Steve just shrugged smugly.

“I didn’t know he was that gorgeous, Buck. You sure you don’t want him? I will gladly take him up.”

Bucky wanted to kill Steve. “Can you be normal? For literally five seconds?” He growled quietly before walking (dragging his feet) to where Sam was in the kitchen. Sam looked up from putting a paper bag in the trash, and to his benefit, he did look at least guilty.

“Hi. Long time no see.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry for coming without any…I mean there was no way of me being able to tell you I was coming back, but I’m sorry nonetheless.”

“It’s…fine. Have a good trip?” Bucky asked awkwardly, wiping some crumbs from the table.

“Yeah. Yes. It was longer than expected.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” Bucky breathed, not meaning for Sam to hear it but he knew he made a mistake when Sam looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam crossed his arms defensively, and as Bucky was trying to conjure up some words.

“What do you mean what’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky scoffed, turning around so he couldn’t see Sam’s aggravatingly pretty face.

“You said it some type of way.”

“I didn’t say it any sort of way.” Bucky lied.

Bucky heard a deep sigh behind him before complete silence. It was strange, Sam being silent. Bucky was used to his voice filling the area, asking continuous questions, but the silence was new. He didn’t care. He didn’t. Sam was a grown adult, and didn’t owe him anything. Besides, it’s not like Sam was even supposed to be living with him, so Bucky should be happy that he was gone for so long. He was happy, despite what…literally anybody else would say. They cleaned in silence for a few minutes before Bucky heard a few footsteps edge closer and closer until they stopped right behind him.

“James, listen-”

“Looks like the kitchen’s clean!” Steve interrupted Sam as he walked into the area, hands full with orange and black tinsel, “You guys ready?” He looked between the two, Bucky leaning against the counter and Sam’s hand just about reaching to Bucky’s left shoulder until he let it drop to his side.

“Yeah, sure.” Sam moved forward towards Steve, “So how long have you known Bucky?”

-

Letting Sam and Steve interact must’ve been one of the greatest mistakes of Bucky’s whole life. He was basically third wheeling the pair as they halloween’d his apartment in every single room. Even the bathroom. Steve said there were to be ‘surprises’ the next time Bucky would go in there. Bucky really didn’t want to know what that entailed.

At the moment, they were in the living room as Bucky sat on the couch as Steve and Sam fed the birds at the window.

“Today has been fun. I’m upset Bucky didn’t tell me more about you.” Sam said, and Bucky pretended like he couldn’t hear him as burrowed further into the couch.

“Same here. Do you work anywhere? With how much time you spend with Bucky and Nat, I’m surprised I’ve barely seen you around.”

“I work at the same cafe as Bucky and Nat. But, I only worked one shift before I… had to go. I’m actually not too sure I’m still employed,” Sam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Bucky knew that he was still hired because Nat was practically in love with him with how much she asked if he was coming back, but he wasn’t going to say that. He simply leaned forward to take a sip of his water. “Where do you work?”

“Oh, I’m a firefighter. Bucky used to work with me back in the day, but you know, things change.” Steve coughed, and when Bucky looked over, Sam just nodded like the news wasn’t even new to him. But then, he remembered that he had pictures of himself and his ex-firefighting squad all over the place, so it was probably no surprise. “So, Sam. How’s living with ol’ Bucky, here? I always begged to move in with him, but he always refused.” Bucky knew Steve was going to look at him, so he averted his eyes and fixed them on the vampire garden gnome sat on the coffee table.

Sam shrugged, “I mean, I practically forced myself in here, so it’s not really like…a betrayal to you from him. I just chose to live here.” He pet a pigeon on the top of its head and Bucky tried not to feel sick, “But, he’s nice.”

“Nice? That’s one way to describe him.” Steve said with a shocked laugh, and Bucky looked over at them with scrunched eyebrows, saying a defensive Hey! that seemed to get unnoticed by the pair.

“He’s not that bad. He took me in and paid for everything I needed, surprisingly without any serious complaints. He tries to be all big and bad, but really, I think he’s a sweetheart deep down.” Sam spoke casually like the words hadn’t penetrated Bucky’s heart and seeped its genuinity through his ventricles.

“You know, I’ve been saying the same thing my whole life. Ever since he became a grown up, he became all serious. I knew him back when he used to collect flowers and bring them to his mom with mud all over his body, so the act was apparent. I’m surprised you were able to get that from only spending a few weeks with him.” Steve reached out to touch the pigeon that Sam was petting, but it recoiled and went to peck at his finger, making him snap his arm back.

Sam laughed softly, “When you live in the same area and do basically everything together, I guess it’s obvious. And I’ve been told I’m very attentive.” He closed the window and looked at Steve.

“You guys know I can hear you, right?”

They both ignored him, “I think we’re going to be very good friends, Sam.” Steve held his hand out and Sam immediately shook it.

“Me too.” He beamed, and Bucky cracked his neck at that smile being directed towards Steve. Because he hated how they acted with mischief together, obviously.

Bucky watched as Steve squeezed his hand around Sam’s before pulling away with a clap, “Right! I better be going, I have an early shift tomorrow, I need my rest.”

Bucky rose from his seat, “You’re leaving already?”

“I think I’ve been here long enough and besides,” He pointed between the two of them, “You two obviously need some catching up.” He grabbed his phone and moved over to the door, Bucky trailing close behind him.

“You sure you can’t stay a bit longer?” Bucky asked as they made it to the front door, and he heard Steve laugh before he turned around and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Stop trying to avoid awkward conversations,” Steve raised his eyebrows, and Bucky just huffed before the taller man pulled him into a hug, “Don’t be a stranger, Buck.”

“Yeah, I know, Steve.” He pulled away, “Safe travels, okay?”

“Okay. Bye,” Steve began to walk out before pausing, “Oh, before I forget,” He walked into the apartment further, over to Sam and dropped something in his hand, “You’ll probably need this more than me.” Sam looked up at him with a shocked expression, and Bucky really wished he could see what Steve put in his hand, but Steve was already pushing past him and saying a few more goodbyes before leaving. The door slammed, and the room filled steadily with uncomfortable silence. He heard some dangling behind him, like Sam was fiddling with something in his hands and-

Oh.

Oh.

Steve had given Sam his keys. The only other keys apart from Bucky’s that allowed access into his apartment. Slick bastard. Bucky couldn’t ponder for too long on that right now, he was currently figuring out a way to escape to his bedroom without being suspicious. Maybe he could just run. Running would maybe work, but it would make an even more awkward conversation when he left. Or, maybe he would just stay in his room forever and just never come out and avoid the conversation completely. That would work. Maybe Sam would realise it was futile and-

“Why are you so mad at me?” Sam asked in a voice so fragile that Bucky had to turn around and face him on the other side of the room. Sam’s eyes were open and soft, like he wasn’t afraid of anything Bucky had to say, and that he’d accept it.

“I’m not mad at you, Sam.” Bucky lied, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“If you’re not mad, why are you acting like that? Ever since I came back, you haven’t looked at me or even spoken to me in any way that wasn’t through Steve. Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing happened, Sam.”

“So, why?” Sam threw his arms out in frustration, and Bucky felt a little guilty at the sight. But, he couldn’t help but think about the days where he had accidentally used Sam’s shampoo, and it made him go into a spiral of when the other man would come home.

“Why didn’t you come home?” Bucky blurted accusatorily and Sam’s eyes widened, but sharpened immediately after.

“Home? While I was here, it was always your apartment, and now it’s home?” Sam scoffed, looking off to the side.

Bucky ignored his words, “You went back to where you’re from didn’t you? How did you get there? With what money? In fact, how did you even know you had to go back if you have no devices or forms of communication.” He crossed his arms, and Sam mirrored his stance, perhaps with a bit more power.

“You said you wouldn’t push.”

“You lived here for weeks. I feel like I have a right to know where you’ve been, especially with your apparent limited knowledge of how things work.” Bucky hissed, and he truly hadn’t meant to. The words simply slipped out of his mouth, and he could feel as the knife pushed into Sam’s stomach as he stepped back, once, twice, away from Bucky.

“You’re being mean, James.”

“I’m being honest.”

Sam scoffed and started moving towards Bucky. Tensing his body, Bucky prepared for Sam to attack him in some sort of way, but the man only kept walking, right towards the door, “If you don’t want me to stay-”

“I do want you to stay, that’s the issue!” Bucky snapped, grabbing Sam’s wrist with his metal hand, probably a bit too tight, but Sam’s expression didn’t falter as he looked between his eyes, and Bucky found himself surprised at the fact he felt relief at Sam’s inquisitive gaze being back.

“What? You’re being a dick because you want me to stay?” Sam tried to pull his hand away from his grasp, but Bucky didn’t budge. All Bucky wanted to say was Yes, Sam. I became used to your presence, and after you left I felt left behind and alone and I never realised how empty everything was beforehand. That’s why I’m angry. I’m angry because I didn’t know when you were coming back.

“I just-” Bucky found himself choked up, the words unable to come out.

“You just what?” Sam said, in a softer tone this time. Bucky just stared at him, hoping his eyes would tell the story, but it didn’t seem to work as the other man sighed and pulled his arm away, Bucky letting him this time. “You want to know what I think Bucky? I think you punish yourself for that firefighting incident and you live alone to make yourself pay. But, it wasn’t your fault. You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself, because it wasn’t your fault. Making yourself live alone with your nightmares and pictures that are constant reminders of the past won’t help with anything. No matter how much you try, you don’t like being alone. You take up every shift you can to get out of the apartment, and even if it annoys you, you let Steve harass you and jump all over you. You let me wake you up during supposingly ‘disgraceful times’, and you try to hide your smile. You can’t get through a nightmare without me with my fingers in your hair, for God’s sake!” Bucky tried not to wince at the words, “You push people out to hurt yourself. It won’t work. Not with me.”

The room was filled with Sam’s heavy breaths after his words, and they just stared at one another, with Bucky unable to say anything but-

“How do you know about that? The accident?”

Sam scoffed, “I mean, when you told me that practically everything was on the internet, you didn’t expect me not to look you up?”

Bucky nodded awkwardly, glancing outside. All of Sam’s words, he knew they were true. But, he hadn’t expected to even hear them from anybody, especially not Sam, someone who had only known him not even for a month. He cleared his throat before looking back at Sam, “I’m sorry.”

Sam smiled, “I’m sorry, too. For leaving without any other words except the fact. I’m not sorry for anything else, though. You had to hear it.” Sam laughed slightly, and Bucky couldn’t stop his own smile. “I want to talk about this further, but I’ve missed you, James.” A shiver went down Bucky’s spine as he realised that Sam still called him James, even after begging to be able to call him Bucky. And now he had the option, he completely disregarded the fact. “I know you’ve missed me, too. Even if you won’t say it. Can we watch something?” Sam was already moving back into the apartment over to the couch, and Bucky couldn’t stop his feet from automatically following.

Notes:

ok sorry if this is lackluster i was fighting to finish this - updates may be slow because im a bit busy rn!

Notes:

Hi! So, now that 'Every Step of The Way' is almost finished, I'm going to try a new type of fic that I've never done before. This was inspired by 'Enchanted', but perhaps so please tell me if you're interested in me continuing in this! It actuallly will end up being a bit darker later on, but for now it's just yay, silly, yay!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of sambucky fics