Bucky blinked awake slowly, then grimaced. His mouth was dry, his head was aching, and he was still alone.
Yeah, he and Sam had fought the night before, and from what he remembered, it was worse than usual, but, still it was normal. The fighting anyway; after the past few weeks or so, it was practically routine.
But waking up alone wasn’t. No, they weren’t technically committed to each other, but he and Sam were pretty consistent with each other. No matter how bad a blowup they had, they always seemed to end the night in each other’s arms, except last night apparently.
Last night, when Bucky had been spitting mad and itching for a fight, again, all because Riley didn’t know how to leave well enough alone, again.
Last night when Bucky had finally snapped and done the kind of thing that couldn’t exactly be taken back.
Even so, he’d tried. Once he had arrived home and the full weight of what he’d done, and what it could mean, hit him squarely in the chest, he’d tried to mitigate the damage. With his heart beating overtime he’d sent no less than a dozen texts to Sam, each one more desperate than the last. Each one left pointedly on “read.”
But it was a new day, and their disagreements, while often and even sometimes lengthy lately, had never been particularly silent. Well, at least not since they’d started hooking up anyway, so Bucky tried again.
Sun, Sep 29 at 1:04 PM
So, what, you’re not talking to me now, Wilson? Very mature.
Not the best thing he could’ve said, but not the worst either, and not really off brand. That’s what they did — snark, needling, teasing. It was them, and nine times out of ten it was how their conversations started. So why change it just because Sam was maybe a little bit more pissed at him than he usually was?
Well, okay, so maybe Bucky should’ve changed it up, tried something different, because hours passed and there still wasn’t a response from Sam.
Sun, Sep 29 at 6:13 PM
Come on, Sammy. Are we gonna talk about this?
Another “read receipt” had Bucky’s eyes narrowing at the screen, but he forced himself to take a deep breath. That was still better than the alternative, and it meant that while Sam was clearly not talking to him, he was still able to talk to Sam, so he immediately drafted another text:
I’m sorry, okay. Riley’s a dick, and this is really all his fault, but I am sorry.
He hit send, then almost instantly regretted it. Staring at another “read,” followed by another round of silence from Sam, Bucky couldn’t help but think that calling Sam’s new bestie a dick probably wasn’t going to score him any points.
Sun, Sep 29 at 6:15 PM
I shouldn’t have said that.
Sun, Sep 29 at 6:15 PM
The part about Riley, I mean.
Sun, Sep 29 at 6:15 PM
I really am sorry, Sam.
Three texts in a row, not one reply from Sam. Bucky felt sick, but he also felt kind of… angry? Hurt? Both, probably. Because, yeah, he’d fucked up, again, but he was trying to apologize. Why couldn’t Sam respond? Did Bucky mean so little to him that he couldn’t even bring himself to send back one measly little text? This was ridiculous.
Sun, Sep 29 at 6:18 PM
You’re being ridiculous.
Delivered
Bucky sucked in a breath at that. His entire body tensed up as he stared at his screen, eyes wide and incredulous.
What. The. Fuck. Sam was being so petty, and just so… so unlike Sam, and Bucky truly couldn’t believe it. So, he’d punched the guy who was always hanging around trying to steal his - his, well, his Sam. So what? Really, what had Sam expected him to do?
Bucky had been letting crap slide all semester with Riley. Ever since the guy latched himself onto Sam during the first week of classes and then never let go, Bucky had tried his best to handle it maturely. Hell, he’d tried to get to know Riley initially, had even tried to like him. However, the more he saw of Riley, the more Bucky was convinced that Riley was just hanging around biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to make a move on Sam.
And, frankly, it had looked an awful lot like Riley had thought he found that moment during Tony’s party Saturday night. Maybe Riley had had too much confidence juice that night or something, but he’d been handsy all evening. A pat on the back here, a clutching of the shoulder there, an arm around the neck that stayed there for a conspicuously long time. It was all so obvious, at least to Bucky, and still he’d tried to play it cool, but then Riley had hugged Sam and Bucky had seen red. Before he knew it, his beer was out of his hand and he was on his feet, and well…
Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have hit him, but he didn’t exactly regret it. He only regretted the impact it was having on his and Sam’s… situation. Things were going from bad to worse between them, clearly, and Bucky didn’t know what to do about it.
So he kept texting.
At first, he aimed for casual.
Mon, Sep 30 at 7:27 AM
Hey, you have that test in your Policy & Practice class this morning, right? Good luck.
After all, maybe it wasn’t that Sam didn’t want to talk to him, maybe he just didn’t want to talk about the fight.
All he got for his efforts was a bright and shiny “delivered,” just like he had the previous day.
But, still, he didn’t stop messaging.
Mon, Sep 30 at 5:35 PM
How’d it go?
Delivered
And he stayed as cool and casual as he could.
Thurs, Oct 3 at 2:43 PM
So, are we still on for our game tomorrow?
Delivered
Fri, Oct 4 at 6:00 PM
I guess not lol
Delivered
Bucky had sent that one from the rec center right outside of campus where they always hung out on their otherwise unoccupied Friday nights in hopes of a pick-up game. Until he’d arrived and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Sam, Bucky hadn’t realized just how much he’d been hoping Sam would be there, or how much he’d thought there was a chance Sam really might still show up.
He also maybe hadn’t realized just how angry he was at Sam.
And one six pack later, he was even angrier.
Fri, Oct 4 at 9:18 PM
You’re an asshole. You know that?
After another mocking “delivered,” for his efforts, Bucky had moved on to hard liquor. Not that it helped improve his mood.
Fri, Oct 4 at 10:34 PM
You know he wants to sleep with you, right?
Delivered
Fri, Oct 4 at 10:35 PM
He’s not even being subtle about it
Delivered
Fri, Oct 4 at 11:02 PM
Dude looks like the discount version of Steve, and acts like the discount version of you lol. Ijs, if you’re done with me, then fine, but you can do better than him, Wilson
Delivered
Fri, Oct 4 at 11:04 PM
So, has he hit on you yet?? You can tell me lol
Delivered
Fri, Oct 4 at 11:05 PM
Has he?
Delivered
Fri, Oct 4 at 11:07 PM
Does he kiss you like I do, Sam?
Delivered
Fri, Oct 4 at 11:29 PM
Sam, come on
Delivered
When he woke up the next day and saw his texts, and that he was still on “delivered,” it was enough to have Bucky never wanting to leave his bedroom again. Shoot, it was almost enough to have him never wanting to send another text again, especially to Sam. But, he knew he couldn’t leave it like that, not after all the crap he’d said.
Sat, Oct 5 at 10:52 AM
I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry, Sam.
Bucky didn’t expect a response at this point, he wasn’t delusional, but when he didn’t see that always infuriating “delivered,” appear after his text, Bucky’s heart sped up and he started to panic.
Because that meant he was blocked, right?
Or did it just mean that Sam had somehow turned off that option? Was that even possible?
Bucky wasn’t really sure, and even after an incredibly pathetic online search, that he’d never admit to conducting, he still didn’t have a real answer to the question, “How do I know if I’ve been blocked by an iPhone user?”
According to the general consensus of the many conflicting posts on the Discussions section of the Apple website, a section that he’d spent an almost embarrassing amount of time skimming through by the way, there was no real way to tell whether you were blocked. Hell, according to GoodMorningCharlie01, there was a good chance that Sam’s phone was simply turned off.
On the other hand, according to Bucky’s common sense, there was an even better chance that Sam had finally gotten tired of his shit and blocked him.
So, no, he didn’t exactly feel good about this latest development. In fact, he felt pretty crappy about it. So crappy, that when Tony sent a mass text later that day inviting him, and apparently half the campus, to another party, he went, even though partying was just about the last thing he felt like doing. He did feel like getting drunk again, and he really felt like having a distraction that didn’t involve spending money or talking about his feelings, so he swung by Steve’s dorm and dragged him to Tony’s house.
But they weren’t there five minutes before Bucky spotted Sam. Well, more specifically, they weren’t there five minutes before Sam spotted Bucky staring at him, rolled his eyes, and then immediately left.
Bucky just stood there by the door a moment, disbelief and hurt warring on his face, and in his heart, before he started to go after Sam.
But Steve pulled him back.
“Bucky, come on.”
“Let go, Steve.”
He scoffed. “No. Sam doesn’t want to talk to you, and you probably shouldn’t talk to him, at least not right now.”
Bucky shrugged him off, but he finally quit staring after Sam long enough to level Steve with a look.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Steve sighed. “Just give him some time, Buck.”
Bucky’s only response was a grunt, before he left to find the keg. Fine, he wouldn’t follow Sam, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still talk to him, kind of anyway, well, maybe.
Sat, Oct 5 at 10:44 PM
So, you're not just ignoring me, you’re avoiding me now too? Real nice, Sam.
******
Well, true to his word, Bucky didn’t follow Sam, but he did show up to his door the next day.
“It’s a wonder your face hasn’t frozen like that, the way you’re always frowning.”
“Hello to you too, Rhodey,” Bucky said, using every ounce of self-control he had not to roll his eyes.
Sam’s roommate had never been Bucky’s biggest fan, and he was used to it by now, but that didn’t mean he was in the mood to hear his smartass comments.
“You gonna let me in or not?”
Rhodey shrugged. “Not. Sam’s not here, and I’m expecting company in a few, so…” He shrugged again. “See you around, Barnes.”
“Will you at least tell him I came by?” He asked, and he must’ve looked as pitiful as he felt, because Rhodey’s expression softened just a bit, before he nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll tell him.”
Bucky sighed, but tried for a smile. “Thanks, man.”
Rhodey just nodded again, before closing the door and heading straight to Sam’s room.
“Bucky came by,” he said, dryly, as he leaned against Sam’s doorway.
Sam was laying flat on his back, arms folded over his chest, as he stared at the ceiling. He didn’t even glance in Rhodey’s direction when he replied.
“You’re hilarious.”
“And you’re dramatic.” He huffed. “You spent all last week moping around this place, moping around work, moping in class, and then when I finally got you to leave your room and try to have some fun last night, you lasted all of ten minutes before you saw Barnes and came back here to mope some more.”
“Who’s moping?”
“Look,” Rhodey said, ignoring his interruption. “I never really understood you two.” Still don’t to be honest, he added silently, before continuing. “But if not talking to the guy is making you this upset, then maybe you ought to just, you know, talk to him.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he snapped.
“Sure, Wilson. Whatever you say,” Rhodey said, shaking his head, as he walked out the room.
Sam frowned at Rhodey’s tone, but he didn’t bother arguing. There really wasn’t anything to talk about, not anymore. Hell, they’d been talking about it ad nauseam for damn near a month.
Or, rather, Sam had been talking, Bucky had been picking fights. Yeah, they’d always fought, even before they’d ever hooked up last spring around midterms, they’d always kind of gone out of their way to annoy each other. But those arguments were always shallow and relatively short lived. Shoot, most of the time, it was probably closer to flirting than fighting anyway. However, that all changed the moment Riley had shown up in a few of Sam’s classes this semester.
Sam had seen Riley around campus and in an occasional class during the last two years, but had never thought much about him. They’d never even spoken. However, now that Sam was a junior, and had a schedule that consisted solely of classes required for his major, there were a few faces he did see in multiple classes throughout the day, and Riley was one of them.
It had only taken a week of Sam and Riley sitting next to each other in Professor Little’s incredibly dry lecture, for them to become fast friends. The two of them had a lot in common, including their major. Besides, Riley was just a cool guy, so of course Sam had started to hang out with him.
And Bucky had been fine with it, or at least he’d said he was fine with it, in the beginning. But as that first night when Sam had invited Riley to join their usual friend group at their favorite dive had gone on, Bucky had started looking pissier and pissier. Eventually it got so bad and so obvious, that Sam had ended up excusing himself from the conversation he was having with Riley, and had gone to check on Bucky.
You could’ve knocked Sam over with a feather when Bucky’d finally told him the reason for his foul mood:
“Riley’s standing awfully close to you, Sam.”
Sam hadn’t laughed, but he’d kind of wanted to. Instead, he’d assured Bucky there was nothing to worry about, and went on with his evening.
Bucky hadn’t said another word, but he’d never fixed his face either. And the second they’d made it back to Bucky’s apartment, he had blown up at Sam, and then Sam had blown up at him right back.
But, then, they’d talked, really talked.
“I don’t like how he was looking at you.”
Sam sighed. “How was he looking at me, Bucky?”
“Don’t say it like that, don’t say it like I’m crazy. He stuck to you like glue all night.”
“Yeah, because we were in a crowded bar, and I was the only person he really knew. And the person who invited him,” he said, pointedly, then shrugged. “I was basically his host.”
“Yeah, his host, not his date. Sam, he was looking at you like you were his date.”
“No, he wasn’t.”
Bucky scoffed. “Yeah, he was. Trust me, anybody looking at the two of you would’ve thought you were together.”
“Okay, but we’re not, and I don’t want to be,” Sam said, looking right into Bucky’s eyes. “I’ve got my handsfull enough with you.”
“Sam—
“Bucky,” he cut him off, then sighed. “Is this gonna be a problem?”
“Only if Riley makes it one,” he mumbled under his breath.
But Sam heard him plain as day, and rolled his eyes.
“I’m serious, Buck, is it?” He bit his lip, and Bucky could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “Riley’s cool, and I like hanging out with him.”
Bucky tensed up, looking poised to retort, but Sam held up a hand to signal he wasn’t done and continued explaining.
“But it’s the same way I like hanging out with Steve, or Rhodey, or Misty, and I’m one hundred percent sure that’s how Riley feels too. It’s not like - it’s not like how it is with us, you know? He’s just a new friend, and we’re going to be hanging out, and sometimes he’ll be around when we’re all together in a group.” He straightened up in his seat, and held Bucky’s gaze once again, when he asked: “So, tell me, Bucky, honestly, is that gonna be a problem for you?”
“No.”
And look, Sam knew that, at least to some extent, Bucky had been lying that night. Everything wasn’t fine, clearly. But, still, at that point Sam had believed that everything would eventually be fine. He’d figured that Bucky just needed to get to know Riley better. Seriously, Sam had really thought that all Bucky needed to see was Sam and Riley hanging out, so he could see that Riley didn’t want Sam as anything other than a friend, and see and believe that that’s all Sam wanted too.
So, Sam had thrown them together. Sometimes just the three of them, sometimes in a group setting. And, honestly, right hand to God, for a couple of weeks, Sam had believed it was working. Everyone else seemed to like Riley, and although Bucky wasn’t as welcoming as he could’ve been, he wasn’t overtly hostile either. He was okay — everything was okay, for a bit.
But it wasn’t long before Bucky’s frowning had reappeared stronger than ever, and his replies to Riley became shorter and snippier.
Sam would try to talk to Bucky about his behavior, about why Riley in particular seemed to set him off so much when he’d never had a problem with Sam’s other friends, but Bucky would always deflect and then try to turn it around, wondering why Sam was so hellbent on hanging out with the only person he had a problem with. But Bucky never asked Sam to quit being friends with Riley, and Sam wasn’t about to offer to cut someone off when neither of them had done anything wrong, especially since he and Bucky weren’t even in a relationship, so…
Yeah, they weren’t okay. For weeks, they weren’t okay. They were in each other’s spaces, and faces, and beds, and when it was good it was great. But they were definitely not okay.
But, still, even with things between them being tense, even knowing that Bucky blamed Riley for that tension, whether it was naive of him or not, Sam had still felt blindsided by Bucky’s behavior at that party. Not just blindsided, but hurt too, especially by the implications of it. What Bucky had done, what he’d said, what he’d texted — Sam really couldn’t call any of it.
He was definitely tired of it though, tired of thinking about it, tired of thinking about Bucky. That’s why he’d blocked him late Friday night.
And, look, maybe blocking him was petty. Maybe it had been immature of him to ignore Bucky the past week too. And, maybe, practically sprinting out of that party five seconds after rolling his eyes, hadn’t been the best look either, but Sam simply did not care.
Christ. They weren’t even technically together, but there he was laying in his bed, eyes red rimmed and stomach queasy, all because the guy he’d essentially been hooking up with was a paranoid jealous jerk. So, yeah, Sam figured he deserved to be a little petty and immature. And if his behavior hurt Bucky even half as much as he’d hurt Sam, well, Sam figured he deserved that too.
******
Between having a lot of the same friends, and a lot of the same hangouts, and, well, the fact that they still attended the same university, Bucky had thought Sam wouldn’t have been able to completely cut him off. Frankly, even though he’d rather die than admit it out loud considering how laughably wrong he’d been, if he was being completely honest, forget completely cutting him off, Bucky had thought he and Sam would’ve made up after a couple of weeks. But way more than two weeks had passed, and Bucky couldn’t help but read the writing on the wall: he was obviously blocked and Sam was obviously done with him.
Fine. Good. Whatever. If Sam didn’t want him anymore, if Sam couldn’t even look at him — couldn’t even bring himself to be anywhere Bucky might be, then Bucky wasn’t about to keep trying to change his mind. He had a little pride after all.
So, he made a deal with himself: he wouldn’t pester Steve for information that only ever served to half torture him when he heard it anymore; he wouldn’t darken Sam’s door and inflict Rhodey’s borderline pitying glances on himself again; and anytime he felt the urge to text Sam another half apology/half accusation in the middle of the night, or any other time for that matter, he’d force himself to type literally anything else instead.
So, of course, a message thread that had been filled with sweet nothings, snarky nonsense, and the occasional semi-nude once upon a time, slowly became filled with, well, just regular nonsense, and lists, lots and lots of lists.
Fri, Nov 1 at 1:05 PM
Ibuprofen
Liquid Soap
Detergent
Wed, Nov 6 at 6:10 PM
Oranges
Chips
Oatmeal pies
Fruit snacks???
30 cash back
Wed, Nov 13 at 12:34 AM
Prime due
Phone bill
Tue, Nov 26 at 11:22 PM
Pack blue sweater!!!
Thurs, Nov 28 at 2:45 AM
Is your mom making that peach cobbler you told me about?
Thurs, Nov 28 at 2:46 AM
Do you ever think about me?
Thurs, Nov 28 at 11:03 AM
Jfc. Text Tasha, see if she’s in town.
Sat, Nov 30 at 3:11 AM
Call Natasha and apologize.
Sat, Dec 7 at 9:06 AM
Lysol
Lysol Wipes
Paper Towels
Tues, Dec 10 at 3:52 PM
Soap
Sprite
Coffee
Plastic Cups
Thurs, Dec 19 at 5:09 PM
Rice
Salt
Wheat
Cucumbers
Bucky hadn’t missed a Thirsty Thursday at Peppy’s in weeks, and that Thursday was no exception. So he was pleasantly buzzed and well on his way to full-on drunk when his phone started shaking on the table in front of him.
Actually, maybe he was already drunk, because it looked a lot like “Sammy” had floated across his screen, but that couldn’t be right.
But, no, when he tapped his now black screen, and scrolled up, that’s what he saw alright: a text from Sam. He could already read part of it, but he hurried to open it and see the full message anyway.
Thurs, Dec 19 at 11:42 PM
What the hell is this?
Oh. What he’d initially seen had been the full message. And it took a second in his inebriated and honestly rattled state, to realize what Sam was referring to, and once he did he felt his face going hot. And he replied without thinking.
Thurs, Dec 19 at 11:44 PM
When did you unblock me?
Then immediately cringed, before following it up with an actual answer.
Sometimes I write shopping lists here
Sorry
For the lists, or for being an asshole?
Both
When did you unblock me?
He asked again, shamelessly. Hell, if they were doing this, then they were doing this.
Who’s Natasha, and why’d you have to apologize to her?
Because I was a jerk
Sounds about right
Bucky waited to see if Sam would elaborate, but he didn’t.
That didn’t stop him from texting again though.
I’d kind of stood her up, because I got cold feet at the last minute
Really?
Yeah. Kinda too stuck on someone else to be thinking about dating her, or anyone really
Oh. Anyone I know?
And, look, Bucky knew Sam well enough to know he was absolutely fucking with him. But was he fucking with him because he was still salty and just felt like messing with Bucky, or was he fucking with him because that’s what they normally did, and Sam was open to them getting back to normal? Bucky honestly couldn’t tell, especially not over text. But he needed to know, for his own sanity he really needed to know, so he bit the bullet, and asked:
Sammy, can we talk in person? Please!
Three dots popped up, then disappeared, then popped up again.
Then disappeared again.
A new message never showed up.
Bucky took a deep breath, his thumbs hovering above his keyboard as he considered what to say next, or if he should even say anything else. But, before he could come up with an answer to either of those questions, someone was sliding into the booth across from him.
“Okay. Talk.”
“Sam,” Bucky breathed, voice ringing with shock. He leaned back in his seat, eyes wide as saucers, as his gaze swept over Sam’s face, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You’re here.”
“Yeah, I came with Riley,” Sam said, meeting Bucky’s gaze head on, looking for all the world as if he was daring Bucky to react.
And Bucky started to. Against his better judgement, against every ounce of common sense he possessed, he really did almost take that very obvious bait. Seriously, his mouth dropped open and he started to ask the question that had been haunting him for over two months.
But before he could do it, and likely end up making things between them even worse than they already were, Sam spoke again.
“Careful,” he warned. “Riley’s the reason you’re unblocked. Honestly, he’s the reason I’m even sitting here right now.”
“Really?” Bucky said, skeptically.
But Sam didn’t even bother to answer when he responded.
“What did you want to talk about, Bucky?”
There was an argument ready and waiting on the tip of his tongue — he definitely wanted to know just what was going on with Sam and Riley, and he really wanted to know why in the world Riley would be advocating for him, if he even was. However, an argument wasn’t going to get Sam back in his life.
And, at the end of the day, that’s all Bucky wanted — to make up with Sam, to be with Sam.
And, though he looked about as put out as Bucky had ever seen him, Bucky couldn’t help but think that Sam must’ve wanted that too, at least a little, or he wouldn’t have been sitting across from him, giving Bucky just the kind of opening he’d spent countless nights praying for.
Sam was giving him a shot, Bucky just had to take it.
“Us,” he finally answered, then took a deep breath. “I want to talk about us.”
“Okay,” he said, briskly. “So. Talk.”
Bucky didn’t need any more invitation. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he said, voice just about as earnest as Sam had ever heard it. “I’m so sorry.”
Sam pursed his lips. He wasn’t about to make this easy for Bucky.
“For what?” He asked.
“For everything,” Bucky responded, readily.
Sam clucked his tongue, nodding shortly. “So, for attacking my friend?” He guessed. “And for not believing me when I said there was nothing going on between us? Because that’s what it was, right?” He continued, without giving Bucky a chance to reply. “You thought I was messing around with Riley, even though I told you I wasn’t, eventhough,” he said, stressing those two words. “Even if I was messing around with him, you wouldn’t have had the right to say a word about it because we weren’t even really together.” Sam paused, shaking his head in exasperation. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did Riley, but you decided to be a raging asshole anyway. So, tell me, when you say ‘everything’ Buck, does it include all of that too?” He asked, mockingly.
“Yes,” he said, without a hint of hesitation. “Yes, it —”
Bucky paused for a moment and blew out a shaky breath, he really was nervous as hell. But almost immediately, he was forcing himself to keep talking. All the nerves in the world wouldn’t stop him from getting this out. He owed Sam that much. Hell, he owed it to himself. He was tired of being miserable, he was tired of being out of Sam’s orbit, and he was going to say and do whatever he needed to do to work his way back into Sam’s good graces.
“Sam, I love you,” he said, intensely. Then his eyes closed briefly, and he could feel himself about to cringe, but he forced his face to straighten up and his eyes to open, and he stared right into Sam’s own. “Fuck it, I’m in love with you,” he corrected.
Sam blinked, and sat back in his seat, but Bucky couldn’t even think about his reaction at the moment. He had to get this all out.
“I’m in love with you, and I know - knew, you liked me too alright, but love?” He let out a short laugh, as if the mere thought of Sam Wilson being in love with him was too crazy to comprehend. Then, “I couldn’t… look, I didn’t know what you were thinking about, other than having a good time, when it came to us, and I was too chickenshit to ask you, because, well, what if I messed everything up, you know?”
Sam sighed. “Bucky—
“So, I didn’t say anything about my feelings, my real feelings, I mean,” he continued, determined to say his piece before Sam responded. “And I figured I’d just wait you out. I thought you’d end up saying something eventually…” He trailed off, sheepishly, then took a deep breath. “But then Riley showed up, and he was perfect, and the two of you got along like a house on fire. And, Christ, Sammy, I hated it. Hated seeing him hanging around you, and he was always hanging around you. And when I finally did admit that I had a problem with it, you brushed me off.”
Sam’s eyes flashed with anger. “Brushed you off, or had a discussion where I explained my side?”
Bucky frowned, but dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Sure, we talked about it, but that talk didn’t change how I felt about the guy.”
“Clearly,” Sam muttered, and Bucky winced.
“Listen, I shouldn’t have hit him,” he admitted, mainly because he knew he’d have to if he ever wanted Sam to look at him the way he used to again. “And I’m sorry I did it.” Because of the problems itcaused us, he added silently. “If I ever see Riley again, the first thing I’ll do is apologize,” he said.
And he meant it. Because, again, he’d really like to be on Sam’s good side again. An apology to that wannabe home wrecker was a small price to pay.
“Good. He’s right over there,” Sam said, a clear challenge in his voice as he tilted his head in the direction of the jukebox.
Bucky turned to look, and of course, there was Riley, staring at them, unashamedly. Prick, he thought, but the look on his face was almost serene as he sent Riley a nod of acknowledgment.
“Great,” Bucky said, gamely, turning back to Sam. “I really do want to apologize.” Andget it over with. “But first, can I finish?”
Sam nodded, looking openly surprised, but far less put out than he had when he’d first sat down.
“I shouldn’t have hit Riley,” he repeated. “I should’ve just talked to you again, and I really should’ve told you how I really felt about you. I don’t know, maybe if things had been more… settled between us, I wouldn’t have flown off the handle like that.”
Sam’s mouth opened, but Bucky held up a hand to stave him off.
“I’m not saying that’s a good reason, but I was always so scared of losing you, Sam, because I wasn’t sure if I even ever really had you,” he said, sadly, and looked down at the table. If he met Sam’s eyes right then, and saw pity or something worse, he might actually cry.
The silence between them was thick and heavy as Sam considered everything Bucky had said, and implied. He wrestled with himself about how to reply, and the silence stretched on awkwardly. Ultimately though, Sam decided that if Bucky could be honest, so could he.
“You had me,” Sam said, quietly, and Bucky’s gaze snapped up to look at him immediately. “Bucky, you had to have known that.”
“You never said—
“You never said,” Sam shot back, cutting him off. “You never said you loved me, never said you wanted to be in a relationship, and maybe I didn’t either, but I said plenty of other stuff. I told you Riley was just a friend, told you you were enough for me. It should’ve been obvious that you had me, Bucky.”
“Well, it should’ve been obvious that I loved you, and that you spending time with another guy who was clearly into you was hurting me.”
“Even if Riley was into me, which he’s not, it shouldn’t have mattered,” Sam argued. “You should’ve trusted me.”
“I did - I do trust you! It’s him I didn’t trust.”
“Did you trust me when you sent me those text messages?” Sam asked, smartly.
But, though his face went bright red, Bucky managed to shrug and match Sam’s snarky tone when he replied:
“I was drunk when I sent you those text messages, at least the worst ones.”
“And that’s any excuse?” Sam asked, incredulously.
“No,” he said, voice serious again. “There’s no excuse for what I did, or for plenty of the things I said. I was hurt and angry, and I did and said a lot of things I regret, but what I regret most of all is losing you, Sam. Hurting you. And I’ll always be sorry for that.” He sighed. “I’ll always wish things could’ve been different.”
Sam scoffed. “Me too, but you can’t change the past, Bucky,” he said, and he suddenly sounded so sad about it, that it sparked a tiny bit of hope in Bucky’s heart.
“No, we can’t,” he agreed, but then reached out and grabbed Sam’s right hand with his own. “We can choose our own future though,” he said, staring at Sam, intently. “I can’t do anything about how I behaved back then, but I can promise you I’ll be better. Sammy, I can show you that I’ll be better to you, and for you. If you give me a chance, sweetheart, I swear we can be better together than we ever were.”
Sam didn’t pull away, but he still sighed.
“Bucky, I—
“I love you — I’m in love with you, still, Sammy. Christ. I want hangouts and proper dates with you. I want to be yours and for you to be mine. Boyfriends, partners, whatever you want to call it, I just want us to be together, officially.”
Sam wanted that too. Maybe it was stupid. Hell, it was probably incredibly stupid. Bucky was jealous and possessive, and he’d acted like a jerk. But he was also sweet, and kind, and funny, and not one hundred percent to blame for their current situation. Oh, well, yeah, Bucky was entirely to blame for his own actions and reactions, but Sam probably could’ve handled the whole thing better too. He could’ve told Bucky he wanted a commitment, and he definitely could’ve talked to Bucky after the fight instead of cutting him off cold turkey. It wasn’t exactly his finest, most mature moment, but he’d been hurting.
Yeah, and so was Bucky, his inner voice supplied, almost on cue.
And, okay, so they’d both been hurting, and they’d both acted immaturely. But, still, Bucky really had fucked up. Could they really make it back from that? Could they really just start over? Was it worth it to even try?
Well, yeah. Sam figured it was probably always going to be worth it to try with someone you loved, that’s why he’d let Riley bully him into going to sit down with Bucky in the first place, because, God help him, he loved Bucky Barnes.
“Sammy?” Bucky questioned tentatively, when he couldn’t take it anymore.
Sam smiled, almost bemusedly, and shook his head, and for a second Bucky’s heart almost stopped, but then Sam finally spoke.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Bucky echoed, almost too afraid to believe he’d heard correctly.
“Okay,” Sam said again. “Let’s try being together, for real this time. I’m in love with you too, Bucky,” he said, plainly, because Bucky still kind of looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And I want to be with you. I want this to work.”
That did it. Bucky understood him perfectly that time. And even if he kind of couldn’t believe his good fortune, that didn’t stop him from dropping Sam’s hand, scrambling out of his seat, and quickly joining him on his side of the booth.
“That’s what I want too,” he swore, leaning into Sam’s space.
“So we need to talk more. I mean, really communicate.”
“Of course,” Bucky agreed.
“And you have to apologize to Riley.”
“Absolutely.”
“And really give him a chance this time.”
“Of course,” he promised. And he would, he’d be friendly to the guy, even if it killed him.
“Because I really think you two could be cool, if you just—
“I think we could too,” he lied through his teeth, without feeling even a hint of guilt, as he cut Sam off. Hell, he’d make himself like that asshole, if it meant he got to have this. “In fact, I’m positive we can, and I want to talk about it more later, maybe we can even invite him over to the table in a few. But can I just kiss you now, sweetheart, please?”
Sam gaped at him a second, but couldn’t help but laugh.
“You know what? Sure. Go ahead, Buck,” he said.
And Bucky leaned in and did just that.