Sunday Morning Part 2 - Sam
Sam slowed to a job the last quarter mile. The trees cleared giving him a view of the yard where Bucky was holding Sarah’s truck up with his left arm and had a bag in his right arm that the boys were piling rocks into. Well at least Bucky hadn’t run off this morning. Sam hoped that he had not embarrassed him too much and that the awkwardness would not carry over the rest of Bucky’s stay. It’s not like Sam was raised in some ultra-conservative household, its just, certain things you did not talk about. Sam never really got into locker room banter thing. Guys in the air force used to ask him if he was a virgin with how uncomfortable the subject of sex would make him. Granted when he first joined, he might as well have been—he wasn’t sure if the clumsy fumbling in the back seat with his senior prom date even counted. There had been others after of course—a few more serious girlfriends—and it was nice. He didn’t not like sex, he just, wasn’t very accustomed to talking about it. So yes, he clammed up this morning, maybe more so than usual, and made everything super weird. But Bucky was still here. Then Bucky smiled that big giant smile of his when he saw Sam approaching, easing Sam’s mind.
“Practicing for your circus act?” Sam yelled, pulling his head phones out.
“They were very insistent,” Bucky said as gently put down the truck and showed the boys to play while he walked the rest of the way back toward the porch with Sam. “That Wilson charm should not be underestimated,” he added, leaning against the railing on the bottom step as Sam sat and took his shoes off. “Speaking of the most charming member of the Wilson family…” Bucky continued, “Sarah is sleeping off a mild hangover.”
“And?” Sam asked, trying to hide his annoyance at Bucky’s obnoxious fawning over his sister. He must not have hid it to well, because Bucky took a step back immediately, putting more space between them.
“Just letting you know,” he said, his smooth voice not really matching his defensive stance, “I never had the pleasure of witnessing any of my sisters hung over, but I’m pretty sure hearing your sibling stomping around, banging pots and pans, results in some serious wrath.”
Before Sam had a chance to respond, Bucky had turned on his heels and was running toward AJ to play tackle him. He watched them for a while before he went inside to shower. When he came back downstairs, they were inside again, and Bucky was overseeing a game of rock paper scissors to decide who got control of the TV.
Sam set out make himself some breakfast. Apparently, the smell of bacon was some sort of beacon, and all of Sam’s prior moodiness was forgiven, because Bucky emerged in the kitchen seconds after it hit the pan, asking Sam what he was making, saying it smelled great, and staring at him with big blue eyes. It was annoying really, how Bucky could get whatever he wanted without even asking with that look. Sam kept his resolve, ignoring Bucky as he added some eggs to a pan.
“You know…when I was growing up,” Bucky said folding his arms and leaning against the fridge, “the idea of having meat with breakfast was unthinkable. Eggs too. You were lucky if you had breakfast at all. Even then it was usually one measly stale cracker, if you hadn’t eaten that already for dinner the night before. I remember one time, all we had was…”
“Good god shut up and I will give you some bacon and eggs,” Sam interjected. He should have known that when puppy dog eyes didn’t work Bucky would resort to his secret weapon-telling some ridiculously sad drawn out old timey story that was probably only about twenty percent true. “You know – when you want something, it’s a lot easier to just ask for it.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Bucky asked, taking a sip of the orange juice that Sam had poured for himself. When Sam glared at him, he got the bottle from the fridge and poured a fresh glass, handing it to Sam.
They ate in comfortable silence. Once both of their plates were empty, Bucky started clearing the table, insisting on helping with the cleanup while asking Sam what his plans were that day. Sam started rattling off a list of chores he thought Bucky could help with, each one getting more difficult, from fixing a rickety step, to cleaning the gutters, to power washing the house, grinning when Bucky easily agreed. It wasn’t until he started suggesting Bucky add on another floor to the house that Bucky looked back from where he was turned away from Sam with his hands in the soapy sink washing dishes to say something.
“Are you messing with me?”
Sam laughed, “yeah—just wanted to see how far I could take that one. You keep insisting on being helpful all the time. I didn’t invite you hear for home improvement help though. Or to be the boys’ personal jungle gym to hang from – despite what they may think.”
Bucky dried his hands on a towel then tossed it over his shoulder and turned around. “So, why did you invite me here?” he asked, tilting his head slightly and meeting Sam’s eyes.
There was something sincere in the look Bucky was giving him, but it was then that Sam realized he did not actually know the answer. Sarah had joked that he was taking in strays again, like he used to with the neighborhood cats, but that was not it. Of course, he worried about Bucky sometimes, the guy survived more trauma than any human being should have to endure. But he did not pity Bucky or see him as a project. Its not they had plans to do anything specific for the week Bucky would be staying. Sam just…wanted him here. He realized he’d been staring awhile without answering, Bucky’s eyes still locked on him. He opened his mouth to say something when Sarah walked in.
“Sam – do you have our guest cleaning the dishes?”
Bucky’s gaze finally fell from Sam. “I insisted,” Bucky responded, “and may I say you are looking lovely,” Bucky said, pulling out a chair as she approached the kitchen table.
“Such a gentleman,” Sarah said smiling. Sam shook his head. Trying to swallow down the distaste of watching the two flirt so openly.
Bucky laughed, a little too loud if you asked Sam, saying “kids these days are just not taught how to treat a lady.”
Sam scoffed. Yeah, he thought, things were so much better when men were taught to be polite when treating black people and women as second class citizens. Sarah and Bucky continued talking, but Sam had tuned it out. Bucky was making a pot of coffee, acting like he lived here knowing where everything was in the kitchen. He started fussing around in the cabinets reaching for something in the back. His blue Henley had ridden up, exposing some of his toned back. Sam noticed a rather sizeable scar on his left side. Suddenly they were both looking at him, like he was expected to answer some question he didn’t hear.
“What?” Sam asked.
“I asked if you wanted this mug,” Bucky asked, holding out a Captain America cup that Sam remembered getting from some silly shop when he was down here visiting Sarah right around the time, they pulled Steve out the ice and he’d become a bit of a celebrity.
“How did you even know it was back there?”
“Saw it looking for a snack last night—a little self-indulgent don’t you think?” Bucky asked while Sarah tried to contain her laughter.
“C’mon,” Sam defended, “that thing is covered in dust – its been back there since long before I took up the shield. Long before I even knew Steve.”
“Ohhh,” Bucky said, putting the mug back and pouring coffee into three of their regular white mugs, “so…you were a fan?”
Sam was about to deny it when he caught his sister’s classic knowing look. “Not as much as some people,” Sam said looking directly at her.
“Hey!” Sarah said.
Bucky sat down at the table with their coffee, smiling. “No…you totally had a crush on Steve?!” He said, playfully punching Sarah’s arm.
“He was a very attractive man,” Sarah defended.
“Please, he isn’t even the most attractive Captain America,” Bucky responded quickly before stammering out, “I mean...well I guess to you he would be because the only other one is your brother…which…you know…that’s how I see Steve I guess.”
“This conversation is getting weird,” Sam said, standing. “I really don’t need the two of you comparing which Captain America is hotter right now.”
“The internet has a lot of opinions on that subject,” Bucky added, “Like, A LOT. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to make a 45-minute video just talking about your ass but, xxFalconFan91 makes some seriously good points.
Sam covered his ears and started walking away, while he heard Sarah explaining to Bucky that Sam had taken a vow to avoid looking at what people say about him on the internet. He had joined his nephews and even though they were out of earshot enough he could not hear their conversation; their continued giggling still irritated him a bit. He hoped they weren’t still talking about him and laughing at his expense. Though the alternative seemed worse – that they were having some completely un-Sam related conversation that was just so hilarious it had them in stitches.
He couldn’t believe Bucky found that mug. Sam mostly got it to annoy his brother-in-law and make fun of Sarah. Steve was voted sexiest man alive that year—of course all the women were swooning over him. Apparently, Sarah has a thing for white, blue-eyed, ridiculously muscular super soldiers. When he started working with Steve, she had joked about wanting Sam to invite him over, but her husband was still alive then, so it was all in jest. Besides, Sam usually drew line in the sands between his family and his work. Until Bucky just blew into town earlier this year that is.
This time, Sam had invited Bucky. Because Bucky is his friend, and Sam wanted to spend time with him. That’s why he’s so annoyed. He enjoyed Bucky’s company – and now he was some sort of third wheel.