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Bucky
Bucky shoots up from the hard, wooden floor, shaking and gasping for air like he's been spit through a rocket of bad dreams, of vivid memories, of unsettling flashbacks.
He sits, lungs heaving for a few minutes when a blue light shines in his eyes. He directs his gaze down and reads Sam Wilson's name as it lights up on the screen of his phone. He can't focus on it.
He wipes his forehead, removing a few beads of sweat. He glides his hands through his damp hair and squeezes his eyes shut as if that will rid the thick layer of unease prickling under every inch of his skin.
He looks back at his phone and finally picks up the device.
He opens the thread with Sam's name. Nine unanswered text messages, one unread.
Bucky doesn't know how to respond. He can't wrap his head around why Steve's friend wants to talk to him at all. Even if they did once spend six hours in a car together and save the world together.
The thing is, they barely talked. Bucky mainly glared and moped at the fact that Sam refused to give up the front seat at any point of their tumultuous, forced road trip. Then, during the battle against Thanos, no one had a second to breathe. They didn't talk at Tony's funeral either. So naturally, Bucky assumed Sam wasn't going to take any of his death stares as an open invitation to friendship and was therefore never expecting to hear from the man.
When Bucky received the first text from Sam, he ignored it thinking it had to be a mistake even though the message addressed him by name. The second text message shocked Bucky and he took a few days, trapped in his anxiety, to think over how to respond. By that time, a third text was sent and Bucky felt foolish answering after taking so long.
He eventually decided Sam was being forced into this. Maybe Steve asked Sam to check on him. With that determined justification, Bucky easily continued to ignore any new messages from Sam, but he still continues to be amazed each time a new one arrives.
Now, it's text number nine. Every text feels like a stab in Bucky's gut especially when he receives one while still reeling from a jarring nightmare. He stares at the text in disbelief and agony.
It's a simple text as always. There's a pattern, a calm and friendly tone, to all of Sam's messages. They're probably written this way to not scare Bucky off, but he's honestly surprised Sam hasn't shown any frustration in his communications after being relentlessly ignored.
Bucky reads the latest text a second time.
"Hey Bucky, hope you're doing well. Just checking in."
Bucky sighs, tries to disregard it, but what if this never ends? What if Sam texts him until the end of time? Bucky's chest bubbles, tightening, until he finally stabs the little arrow by Sam's name and clicks the call button.
Bucky's not in the right head space. In fact, his brain feels like a foggy mess. His heart races after he realizes what he's doing. He's about to hang up and throw the phone across the room, but it's too late.
"Bucky?"
Bucky freezes at the sound of Sam's voice. His breath stops short. He really just called Sam and now he has no idea what to say.
He needs to play it cool even if the wariness of his nightmare still hasn't worn off yet and his right hand is continuously trembling next to him. It's not helping how tight his throat feels either, but he manages to get some response out.
"Hey Sam."
"You're... calling?" Sam sounds surprised.
The man should be astounded by this turn of events, Bucky sure is.
"Yeah," Bucky replies casually but slams his palm into his forehead feeling like an absolute idiot for getting himself into this.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks with nerves lacing his tone.
How in the hell can Bucky answer that one? He's never okay.
"I'm alive," he decides.
There's a pause and Bucky really wants to apologize and hang up, but somehow that feels more embarrassing at this point.
"Right okay, um have you been getting my texts?" Sam questions next.
Shit, Bucky really should've hung up. Now, they have to talk about this. Bucky contemplates throwing out some lie about his phone being broken or the messages not going through, but only the truth flies out of his mouth.
"Yeah."
Another beat of silence fills the line and Bucky's jaw clenches, hating this awkwardness.
"You know you could've just texted me? You do know how to send a text message, right?"
A pit of annoyance swells quickly in Bucky's gut, wiping away all the uncomfortable guilt.
"I know how to send a text message," Bucky grits through his teeth.
There's a huff of air over the line. A light, airy huff that sounds like Sam just laughed. It sends a wash of calm over Bucky, allows him to breathe again.
Sam doesn't hate him, Sam is actually joking with him?
"So... do you need something?" Sam asks serious again.
"No."
He hears Sam take a breath in.
"Okay well, thanks for calling... I guess," Sam determines and Bucky can feel he's about to hang up. What else is there to say? It's not like Bucky is contributing much to the conversation, but a panic unexpectedly rushes over him.
"Wait," Bucky blurts out.
They sit in additional quiet as Sam waits, but the problem is Bucky has no idea what the hell he wants. He doesn't want to talk, but for some reason, he can't bare the thought of Sam's voice leaving him.
Bucky balls his shaking hand into a fist and tries to will it to stop.
"Could you talk about something?" Bucky requests quietly.
"What kind of something?"
Bucky shakes his head before banging it repeatedly into his balled up fist. What the fuck is he doing?
"Whatever - something small like the last time you went to the store something," Bucky clarifies.
"You want me to tell you about the last time I went to the store?" Sam judges.
Bucky cringes internally feeling his face flush warm.
"Never mind," Bucky sighs and he's about to hang up and end this torture once and for all when Sam jumps back in.
"No, I'm gonna tell you. You won't believe what happened to me."
That same wave of calm spreads across Bucky's skin and his body finally begins to relax. He picks his head back up.
"What happened?"
"This young cashier, who definitely has no idea how the coupon system works, was trying to cheat me out of my two dollars off!" Sam exclaims.
Bucky smiles instantly. He's even surprised by how much his mouth curves upward.
"Hm," is all he says because he really doesn't want to talk, but Sam somehow understands this.
Sam goes on for a while talking about the cashier and his trip to the grocery store before explaining, in detail, every item he bought and then what he cooked with it.
Bucky eventually hears Sam drifting off, his voice growing dazed from tiredness, but he doesn't hang up. Sam keeps talking slower and slower until he officially passes out, his voice stops. Bucky waits, phone still hugging his ear. He keeps it there, inhaling a deep breath in the silence and replaying the memory of Sam's voice until he drifts off too.
Sam
If anyone would have told Sam that he was going to be talking to Bucky Barnes on the phone every single night, he would have laughed in their face. The super soldier wouldn't return a singular text message and now Sam talks the man's ear off every evening.
Sam's pretty sure the calls are helping Bucky even if he never gets this confirmation. This is the only reason Sam's doing it, truthfully. The only reason he forces himself to come up with endless, mundane tales to speak into his cell phone in the dead of night.
Eventually, Sam grows tired of talking nonsense and decides to simply tell Bucky about his current life.
Sam tells him about living back in Louisiana with his sister and her kids. He talks about the family boat, a lot since he works on it so often. He tells Bucky what he caught that day fishing or how his nephews are getting dangerously better than him at that sport somehow.
One night, Sam even admits how he's staring at Steve's shield and has refused to use it all this time. He wonders this night if this is the thing that will finally make Bucky talk. He imagines Bucky possibly growing angry at the revelation of wasting the Captain America shield when Steve gave it to Sam. He knows Steve could have chosen Bucky, sometimes Sam still wonders why he didn't.
Bucky never does respond, never says a thing, just stays on the phone until Sam falls asleep. Exactly how it happens every night.
One morning, after Sarah has sent the boys off to school, she sits back down at the island and stares at Sam suspiciously over her coffee.
"What?" Sam laughs honestly not looped into what he's done this day.
"Are you ever gonna tell me?" Sarah sighs defeatedly.
"Tell you what?" Sam shakes his head.
Usually, he knows what his sister is getting on his case about, but today he truly has no idea.
"About the mystery man," she states.
Sam's stomach drops.
Bucky.
It shouldn't be a secret, it shouldn't even be something to catch him in, but his body still reacts like it is.
"Mystery man?" Sam's voice stutters slightly.
Real cool, Sam chastises himself when Sarah smirks smugly at the stammer.
"I hear you on the phone every night," she reveals.
Sam's face grows undeniably hot.
"Are you eavesdropping on me?" Sam spits trying to sound appalled.
Sarah rolls her eyes.
"I couldn't sleep one night, was heading downstairs when I heard you talking about me. I almost barged into your room, but you were actually saying something nice. Ever since then all I hear is you talking to this 'Buck' fella. Which speaking of, please tell me that ain't his real name," Sarah expands.
Sam laughs at that, he can't help it.
"Technically, it's a nickname for his nickname," Sam explains.
"What in God's name?" Sarah flails her arms.
Sam smiles too brightly at his sister's reaction.
"It's Bucky. Well really, it's James if that makes you happy, but I'm never calling him James," Sam tells her.
"Why the hell not? It's so much nicer than Bucky," Sarah judges promptly rolling her eyes.
Sam smirks before peering down at his coffee. A somber air breezes through him.
"Look, he's just Steve's old friend."
"That you talk to every single night," Sarah fights.
Sam inhales a solemn breath.
"He... needs some help sleeping. We're friends, I guess. It's actually really surprising this happened. He was ignoring me for weeks," Sam admits.
"Well, he's not ignoring you anymore. He must know every damn thing about you now," Sarah smiles easily.
"If he's even listening," Sam shrugs remembering all the personal things he's begun sharing recently, still with no answer to any of them.
"Why wouldn't he be listening?" Sarah questions confused.
"He never answers. I just talk and eventually, I assume he falls asleep or I fall asleep. I doubt he even cares what I'm saying," Sam says heartbreakingly.
He didn't think he cared if Bucky was listening, but something hurts at the thought that he's not. That Sam's actually just baring his soul to empty air even if he's the one who decided to on his own.
Sarah looks perplexed like she wasn't expecting this. To be fair, neither was Sam. He wasn't expecting any of this including Sarah knowing about the phone calls all along and blatantly calling him out.
"Well still, might be worth looking into," Sarah comments.
Sam shakes his head knowing his sister would go there.
"I doubt it. He's not a people person and definitely doesn't seem like the relationship type either."
"He sure likes listening to you," Sarah points out.
"I told you, he's probably not even hearing what I'm saying," Sam reiterates and it hurts more the second time.
Damn, he really didn't think he cared.
"He likes the sound of your voice then. That's something. Look, I'm done overhearing you every time I get up to pee. Just invite him here so we can meet him already," Sarah huffs out frustrated like it's an actual burden she even has to breathe the words.
"What? I'm not inviting him to Louisiana," Sam squawks.
"Sam, don't take a week to end up doing exactly what I'm telling you to anyway," Sarah warns.
"Sarah, seriously, he wouldn't even come," Sam battles.
"I'm tired Sam, just ask the man," Sarah sighs like this is draining the life out of her.
Sam does it. He invites Bucky to Louisiana.
He tells himself it's only to get Sarah off his back. When he speaks the invitation into existence, his expectation is that Bucky won't answer him at all. Or maybe that's what Sam's hoping for, starts to pray for even, so he can just tell Sarah he was right. Bucky was never paying attention and these calls are nothing more than a necessary lullaby to sleep.
When silence immediately follows his words, Sam begins to breathe a mixed sigh of relief and disappointment. Bucky's asleep, he's not even awake to hear him, Sam tells himself. Wants to believe it and also hates to believe it.
Except after the short silence passes, Sam receives the first reply he's gotten since their very first phone call.
"Alright."
The sound of Bucky's voice jolts through Sam.
"Alright?" Sam chokes stunned to be hearing another voice on the line.
But it's not just another voice. This voice, Bucky answering, confirms Sam's being listened to. Confirms Bucky is not only paying attention but also wants to take Sam up on his offer and fly down to Louisiana to visit him. How is this possible?
Sam might be too overwhelmed to speak that he almost doesn't recognize the second instance of extended silence that falls over the line.
"Bucky?" Sam asks wondering if he somehow imagined the whole thing.
"I'll come down... if you really want," Bucky replies proving it wasn't all in Sam's head even as his voice breaks off, getting impossibly low at the end.
Sam swallows his shock.
"Yeah, I'd like that," Sam finally says.
Then, he continues to talk. Picks up right where he left off like nothing happened, but Sam finds himself smiling so much for the rest of the night.
Bucky shows up. He actually books a flight and shows up in Louisiana.
When a knock sounds at the Wilson family's front door, Sarah unfortunately beats Sam to it.
She swings the door open wide and they find Bucky Barnes standing there in the flesh.
"Well, hello James," Sarah sings happily.
Bucky blinks a little stunned, possibly from the use of his actual first name, but more likely from the fact that Sam's sister, whom he's never met, already knows his real name.
"Sorry, she doesn't like Bucky," Sam supplies casually ignoring how hot his face is burning from Bucky now knowing Sam talks about him.
Bucky cracks a small smile and puts his hand out.
"That's okay, I'm Bu- James," Bucky introduces already adorably forgetting.
Sarah shakes his hand, smirking wide, and giving Sam a sideways glance all at the same time.
"Please come in, we're happy you could make it," Sarah expresses sincerely.
Bucky walks into the house with one lone, tiny backpack slung around his shoulder. He shoves his hands awkwardly into his pockets as Sarah shuts the door behind him.
Sam hasn't seen Bucky since the funeral and maybe he should have noticed this in the first second they opened the door, but he's just realizing now that the man chopped all his hair off.
"You cut your hair," Sam notes aloud.
Bucky swallows, nodding while peering away.
"Yeah," Bucky murmurs.
The air builds tensely until Sarah cuts back in.
"Looks good," Sarah beams even though she has no idea what his hair looked like before.
She then proceeds to pull Bucky's arm forward, bringing him further into the house.
Sam follows them, admiring Bucky's tall frame from behind. Since when does he look this good in a leather jacket and has he always worn pants that tight?
Sam's not sure why this feels so easy.
Why dinner and Bucky meeting the boys and every conversation that ensues this day feels so natural even when for months Sam hasn't heard Bucky speak a word to him over the phone.
But it does. It feels easy, too easy.
Sam doesn't want to think about it so he's happy when the day is coming to an end and he can set Bucky up on the couch with a pillow and blanket to head to sleep. He asks if Bucky wants any water and when Bucky says no, Sam still goes to the kitchen to get some for himself. He's not sure why his mouth has been so dry lately.
This is where Sarah sneaks in and catches Sam's arm. She leans over his shoulder to whisper by his ear.
"How you gonna talk him to sleep when he's all the way down here?" Sarah sneers.
"Sarah," Sam warns under his breath.
Sarah doesn't know about Bucky's super-hearing, but Sam certainly does. He desperately hopes Bucky didn't catch that one.
Still, the thought sits with Sam a little too strong.
Sam hears Sarah wish Bucky a good night before he hears weight on the stairs and knows Sarah is gone. Sam walks back out to the living room.
He stops a few feet from the couch and feels funny. Sarah's kinda right. For months, Sam has been talking this guy to sleep and now he invites him to Louisiana and he's gonna offer him nothing? It almost feels unfair to leave Bucky hanging like this.
Sam stands awkwardly considering this thought until Bucky finally looks up at Sam from his seat on the couch, brows slowly furrowing in.
"You going to sleep now?" Bucky questions Sam's unmoving stance.
"Yeah... um, yeah."
"Goodnight," Bucky expresses, but his perplexed gaze stays fixated on Sam when he remains.
"Will you be alright down here?" Sam stalls.
"Yeah, thanks," Bucky nods.
This is a crime, Sam suddenly thinks, a crime to leave Bucky down here to have horrible nightmares or whatever he can assume happens when the man doesn't have Sam's voice to lull him to sleep. It sounds crazy that Sam might be helping him that much, but Sam has to believe it otherwise why would they have kept it up for months?
Sam eventually nods too, but he still doesn't make the ascent up the stairs. He's building up the nerve, the nerve to ask.
"Actually, um. I know this might sound weird, but if you wanna come up I could talk until you fall asleep," Sam offers sheepishly.
He watches Bucky's eyes widen in surprise and then the brunette stands abruptly, a little wobbly even like he was rushing to get up.
"Yeah, okay," Bucky accepts.
Sam smiles. This is doing something, he is helping.
Bucky grabs the pillow and blanket from the couch and follows Sam upstairs. When they get to Sam's room, Bucky places the bedding on the floor and settles onto the hard ground.
Sam doesn't like that, but he can't ask the man to share his bed. There has to be some line, some limit... right?
Sam gets into his bed and begins talking as they normally do, but this time it feels too different. Sam can't shake how heavy the air is with Bucky's actual presence only a few feet away. Hearing the subtle sound of Bucky's breathing whenever Sam takes a break in between thoughts makes his chest tighten tremendously. Bucky's right here.
Sam grows restless and anxious, the opposite of what this routine is supposed to be doing. Sam wants something, he's not sure what, but he wants something more.
Sam falls quiet as he finishes a story. He doesn't have the ability to think of any other occurrence in his life when he's focusing on the noise of the blanket shifting from the floor. The motion stops and the room is entirely quiet again.
He realizes Bucky probably assumes he fell asleep since Bucky can't see him, can't see that Sam's eyes are actually wide with a stark intensity by what he wants to suggest.
Sam hears the invitation slip out of his mouth before his brain registers he's the one saying it.
"Do you wanna sleep up here?"
There's no motion, no sound, only Sam's heartbeat pounding in his ears so loud he's wondering if he missed a response.
Sam quickly prays Bucky somehow fell asleep that fast and never heard him. That he can be free of the embarrassment from his question and whatever awkward interaction would probably follow if Bucky had heard.
Instead, movement finally stirs from below and the next thing Sam sees is Bucky standing.
The super soldier's eyes shine in the darkness of the room. Sam's heart hammers unbearably in his chest.
"Serious?" Bucky whispers.
Sam nods before considering Bucky might miss the signal in the dark.
"Yes," Sam clarifies aloud.
Bucky hesitates, tensing more before he moves, but eventually, he steps towards the bed. The covers shakily lift and draw forward. The man climbs into the bed. Sam feels himself breathe again.
Sam quickly realizes he hadn't thought this far. What's his next move?
He turns to look at Bucky.
"Do you ever wanna talk?" Sam finds himself asking.
It's definitely not the question Sam was expecting to ask next, but one he doesn't mind hearing the answer to.
"I'm not great with talking," Bucky says hoarsely.
Sam doesn't expect the pang of disappointment that hits him. He should have expected it, it's been months of this being very one sided. He's not sure why he thought that would change.
"Oh, okay," Sam replies, falling quiet again as an uneasy feeling creeps under his skin.
"But I can try," Bucky surprises him.
Sam snaps back.
"Yeah?" Sam coaxes a bit too giddy.
Bucky nods, but Sam notices his face scrunch in concern even in the dim light.
"What do you wanna know?" Bucky questions nervously.
"Whatever," Sam shrugs. "Something small."
Sam watches the edges of Bucky's mouth twitch up into an almost smile before he begins to speak.
"I get coffee at the same cafe everyday," he reveals.
Sam smiles, relaxing completely, as he pushes his head further into the pillow and lets the other man talk.
The next night, they don't even discuss it. Bucky is simply back in Sam's bed.
Bucky's talking tonight and maybe Sam should be concerned by how intently he's listening to the man's every word. But to be fair, Sam has shared so much about himself over the last few months, it makes sense that he's excited to finally hear about Bucky's life. In fact, Sam's finding so much joy in all the small details Bucky's willing to share and they're all small. Very small, surface level things, but even if they are insignificant, Sam cares about them all.
At one point during Bucky's retelling of a basic day, Sam twists onto his side and looks directly at the man beside him. Bucky stops talking abruptly, mid-sentence like something is horribly wrong.
Sam connects the intimacy of his motion, they are pretty close in the bed and now Sam must seem even closer.
"Oh, I don't have to look at you," Sam understands and swiftly returns to lying on his back.
"No, um..." Bucky retorts, but then his voice trails off and he never finishes his sentence. Instead, he tries to pick up where he left off. "So, I was uh... picking up my sushi when... um, when..."
He keeps faltering. Sam glances back over at him, twisting only a bit to ask if he's okay, but Sam doesn't get the chance to ask because Bucky's turning too and his lips are suddenly on Sam's. It's a slow, careful kiss. More light and scared than anything, Sam can feel that.
Bucky draws back and his eyes scatter everywhere, his face reading instant regret.
Sam reaches his hand up and smoothes his palm down Bucky's cheek. He can see Bucky's eyes widen a fraction. He leans back in and connects their lips once more. This kiss is more tender, relaxed. Bucky moans softly when he pulls back and it causes a tingle to dance across Sam's skin.
"Have you been wanting to do that for a long time?" Sam asks quietly.
"Yeah," Bucky admits.
"Me too."
Bucky's eyes widen yet again and he surprises Sam when he scoots closer and mirrors Sam's hand by cupping Sam's face with one of his own.
Bucky's thumb gently caresses Sam's cheekbone and Sam blinks slow, taking the touch in.
"I haven't wanted anything in a really long time," Bucky confesses and this is the most intimate thing Bucky has ever confessed to Sam.
Sam smiles warmly at the unexpected admission.
"Sometimes what you want is right in front of you," Sam confirms.
Bucky smiles, truly smiles, possibly for the first time in a very long time. Sam appreciates the sight and leans back in to kiss those happy lips.
The kiss turns forceful and passionate until Sam's hands fall into Bucky's short hair and he swings his body over the other man. They make out for a while until the situation in Sam's pants gets too unbearable and he's blindly rocking his hips into Bucky's leg. Bucky moans and draws back from the lock of their lips.
Sam pauses looking down at the other man breathlessly.
"I haven't... done this in a while," Bucky admits low.
Sam doesn't answer, only dips his head down and lays a kiss to Bucky's eyebrow, temple, then jawbone. He continues pressing his lips to small spots all over Bucky's face until Bucky lets out a breathy laugh and draws Sam's mouth back to his.
Bucky's tongue slips inside and Sam's skin prickles hot as their mouths meld together.
Sam reaches his hand down in between them and finds Bucky unbelievably hard. Bucky gasps as Sam's fingers lightly caress him.
"That okay?" Sam asks.
"Yeah."
Bucky stays frozen for a moment, his eyes closed, as Sam continues to stroke him over his sweatpants. Then, his eyes flash open as if realizing how one sided this is and his hand speedily finds Sam.
Sam grins wide as his eyes flutter closed and they both pick up the intensity of their hands. Sam sinks his hand under the waistband of Bucky's pants and wraps his hand around Bucky's flesh, hard width. It's hot and thick in his grip. Bucky gasps yet again.
"It's like you're not expecting it," Sam teases.
Bucky glares at him, but he makes sure to follow suit and grip Sam just as tightly under his pants. Sam's breath catches in his throat. Not a full gasp, but enough to make Bucky's point.
"Don't make fun of me," Bucky murmurs low, averting his eyes.
The comment unexpectedly digs painfully into Sam. He pushes forward and kisses Bucky's lips apologetically. He's not sure if his message gets across especially when Bucky only reciprocates by hungrily deepening the kiss, delving deeper and deeper until Sam loses it and their hands really take off.
They pant into each other mouths when they come, spilling over each other's fingers.
They recover in silence as they unwrap their hands from each other. Sam looks over to find Bucky's expression tight and worried.
"Let's clean up," Sam declares to distract from it.
Bucky nods and follows Sam to the bathroom.
When they're done wiping themselves down, Sam finds new clothes for them both. He hands Bucky a clean set of sweats and underwear.
Bucky smiles appreciatively but pauses before reaching for them.
"I probably have something I can wear," Bucky says.
"Where, in that tiny backpack? It's fine, wear mine," Sam smiles big.
Bucky accepts the clothes and they change into the clean attire. When they're done, Sam watches yet another layer of anxiety peel down Bucky's face.
"So... now what?" Bucky questions awkwardly.
Sam smiles at his endearing distress. He steps closer and takes Bucky's hand.
"I was thinking we'd get some sleep and maybe do this again in the morning."
Surprise flickers through Bucky's eyes and he smiles wide.
Sam tugs him back to bed. They climb under the covers and Sam wraps his arms around the other man.
Bucky lets out a content sigh under Sam's hold. The sound sinking deep into Sam's heart.
Sam rests his head over Bucky's chest and the rhythm of his gentle heartbeat soothes him closer and closer to sleep. Sam lets his eyes drip closed.
"Sam?" Bucky breathes into the dark.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for talking to me."
Sam holds back a little laugh bubbling up and picks his head up to kiss Bucky's cheek.
"Any time."