Chapter 1
In the few months that Sam had known Steve Rogers he'd like to think that he'd gotten to know him fairly well. He knew, when it came to food, and just about everything else, Steve had very simple taste. He'd just as soon eat Sam's homemade casserole probably more then the stuff they served you at the five star restaurants Tony usually had them go to and that wasn't just because Sam was The Greatest Cook Ever (a title that Sam had given himself). Running was less of an exercise for him and more of a stress reliever. He enjoyed it because it cleared his head. You could tell how stressed he was by the way he ran, and if he was running hard enough, you knew he was heading to a gym to punch his way through a few dozen punching bags. Sam knew that Steve was a quiet guy, one of those cliché sensitive artists who could be content sitting in silence for hours at a time while doodling. He was the type to stop whatever he was doing an appreciate a sunset or stare at a single flower in an empty yard and smile. Sam had grown up hearing about the great Captain America, who hadn't, but he had always gotten the impression that Steve Rogers would be a perfect boy scout and he couldn't have been more wrong.
Despite Steve's quieter tendencies, he also had an annoying knack of being one of the snarkiest motherfuckers who've ever met, which is probably why him and Stark clash so much. He always had a comment for everything and it actually scared Sam at times because he knew that Steve didn't say half of the things he thought because of his puppy rescuing, walk grandma across the street morals. Those morals though, probably got him into more trouble then not. He couldn't go anywhere with Steve without him going up to someone to correct them on their behavior. Sam had actually never realized how many people said awful stuff so frequently until he began to hang out with Steve. Everything from kids getting picked on to women getting catcalled to all things racist and homophobic (the last of which honestly kind of surprised him considered he was from the 40's but never the less) was to be taken care of by Captain America himself.
Sam knew that Steve's favorite color was blue. Not the blue found on his uniform but rather a clear grey blue like the kind you'd see in the sky in the early morning. Steve wasn't too big on chocolate sweets, it all being so sugary and processed but was a huge fan of sour and gummy candies. He had seen Steve happy and smiling with all of the avengers like he didn't have a care in the world. He knew Steve still had nightmares and some nights woke up in a cold sweat and flashes of whatever war behind his eyes. He'd seen him after the Hydra attempted to take over SHIELD and practically the world, beaten to a pulp and half drowned. And yet, he'd never seen him like he was now.
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They had been having dinner at Steve's apartment. He'd gotten a new one in Brooklyn after the incident with Fury. Sam was cooking his "World Famous Spaghetti" while Clint, Nat and Steve put on a movie. This was a rare get to together as Clint was rarely in time, especially at the same time as Natasha. This was only the second time Sam had met the archer and maybe the fifth with Nat after the Hydra fiasco. Sam came back into the living room from putting the noodles to boil to find everyone smiling and laughing. Clint had his legs thrown over the arm of the sofa and his head resting in Nat's lap. Steve was over in his own chair adjacent to them with a movie playing on the television already.
"So what movie did you guys decide on," Sam asked as he settled down next to Natasha on the sofa who rolled her eyes.
"Well Steve has that Disney fetish of his so he chose one from his hoard."
"Cinderella," Clint piped up from her lap.
"It's not a fetish," Steve protested, seeming faintly embarrassed by the accusation. "I just enjoy the artwork. And I think the stories are cute." Sam chuckled because Steve did in fact have an unusual amount of cartoon movies for a grown man. Clint raised his arms and shrugged.
"No judgment here, man." Steve grumbled and turned back towards the t.v. screen. They were only five minutes into the movie when everyone in the room besides Sam tensed. Within second they were all standing and looking towards the terrace. Nat had pulled a gun out from God knows where and they were all currently moving towards the blind covered doors. The door slid open and Nat raised her gun and a figure moved behind the large vertical blinds. Steve raised his hand, a motion to not shoot, as an arm came through, followed quickly by a person. A recognizable person despite the tattered clothes and rough appearance. Nat and Clint gave murmurs of shock and worry.
"Bucky," Steve whispered, low but filled with...hope? The man looked up at him, looked at all of them and retreated back a bit, afraid. His eyes flicked back and forth between everyone but stayed on Steve last. "Bucky, are you okay?" There was a pause before the man gave a soft nod. "It's okay," Steve told him, voice remaining low and calm. "You're safe here, no one is going to hurt you." As if suddenly remembering that she had a weapon, Nat quickly tucked the gun away. Everyone besides Steve fell back as to not crowd the man who was still backed against the wall like a frightened animal. "You understand me, Buck?" He gave another small nod. "And," he began almost hesitantly, "You know who I am?" The question hung in the air for a long time as Bucky seemed to contemplate answering, face pinched with indecision but eventually his rough voice croaked through the silence.
"You're my friend." That's when Steve makes the most pained noise Sam's ever heard a human make besides the atrocities he'd heard while overseas. It's quiet but it reverberates in the room and you can hear the distress dripping off Steve's next words.
"Can I... Will you let me touch you?" There's another almost unperceivable nod that Steve takes as confirmation to move closer. He's still slow about it and Bucky isn't exactly rushing towards him either but finally Steve's hand reaches the other man's shoulder and they're hugging. And it's one of those desperate hugs you see when someone comes back from military work, Sam's seen plenty of those. For a second he continues looking and he finds it nearly funny how Steve attempts to burrow his way into the crook of Bucky's neck and huddle into him like he isn't 6'2" and 230 lbs. Bucky was a little slower about returning the gesture, his eyes fiery with some emotion Sam couldn't place before he makes a broken sound and wraps his arms around Steve, face pressing into his shoulder. Sam turns away, feeling as if he's watching a private event and it as it happens, Natasha and Clint thought the same and were currently edging out towards the kitchen. Sam follows but Nat pauses by the doorway, eyes wary. Clint tugs her away after waving his hands in a few quick movements Sam knew to be sign language but didn't actually know the meaning of. Whatever it had been was enough to convince Nat, who sat with Clint at the kitchen table. The three of them looked at each other, all not exactly sure what to do. There were some soft murmurs coming from the living room that meant neither of them were dead, so that was good. Sam took a breath before turning to the stove.
"Food will be ready in a few minutes."