Afternoon - Bucky
Chapter 6 – Sunday Afternoon – Bucky
Two hours and a very large po’boy later, Bucky’s head was still reeling. He must be going crazy because the way Sam was looking at him earlier made him think he might actually stand a chance. When Sam goaded him to flirting, he decided to take a risk and really go for it – really say the words that had been at the tip of his tongue for the past 24 hours. He was close enough to hear Sam’s heartbeat pick up with his enhanced hearing and to see his pupils dilate slightly as a blush crept up his ears. To make matters even more unbelievable he told Bucky he wanted to spend time with him…alone…and ask him for drinks. Was this a date? And was Sam…jealous…when he thought Bucky was flirting with Sarah?
He had to know sooner than later. The longer he held on to this hope the harder it would be if he was wrong. They’d come back to the house and were watching something on the TV but Bucky just couldn’t focus. He kept stealing glances at Sam, wondering what the hell to do. If he was wrong and he came out and said something, he wasn’t sure he could face Sam again. He didn’t want to ruin their friendship. AJ and Cass sitting between them also calmed his urge to just blurt out something stupid.
There was a time when Bucky was so good at this. Though, he never really felt this way about someone. Sure, he’d felt the part where he felt like his skin was on fire just from a brush of the fingers and that he’d die if he didn’t get to feel their lips on his but not for someone he already cared so deeply for as a friend. The worst they could do was turn him down, and he wouldn’t be any worse off never seeing them again.
Bucky knew Sam cared about him too, he just had find out if there could be something more. That part shouldn’t be much different than it would with anyone else. If he could just know whether Sam had any interest in men it would be a lot easier.
Sam pulled him out of his thoughts as the credits of whatever it was on ran and Sam announced he was going to head upstairs and start getting ready to go out for dinner. He told the boys to start cleaning up too. Sarah was already upstairs in the shower.
Trudging over to his bag, Bucky realized he had absolutely nothing nice to wear. That’s when the idea struck him. Taking a deep breath, he started heading up the stairs. When he got to Sam’s open doorway, Sam was standing in front of his open closet. Bucky knocked twice to get his attention. Sam turned around holding a pair of charcoal grey slacks and a black button down.
“These are bit too snug on me, if they fit you, you can keep them,” he jestured to the pants, “the shirt too if you want – it is your favorite color.”
Bucky smiled, “guess you also realized I’d have nothing to wear.”
“I was about to head back down and ask you what you were wearing – you know like how dressy you think we should be-and it dawned on me.”
Bucky closed the door behind him and grabbed the clothes from Sam’s hand, placing them on Sam’s bed. Still facing Sam, he pulled his t-shirt off over his head and tossed it next to them, before starting on his belt. He could see, and feel, Sam’s eyes raking over him. No one would spend this much time looking if they didn’t like what they were seeing. Sam’s eyes roamed back up and met Bucky’s. He flushed. He must have realized he was staring and that Bucky caught him because he quickly turned back toward the closet, moving around some clothes.
Based on Sam’s reaction this morning and shy reaction now, Bucky knew he still had to tread lightly. Sam was certainly interested – he could tell that much at least. He stepped into the pants happy to find that they fit, most likely because Bucky didn’t have ass to fill them out like Sam did. Then he was gifted with the sight of that very ass in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs as Sam got undressed, facing the closet. God how he wanted to lick that gorgeous dip on the side of Sam’s leg outlining his strong quads. He remembered when Sam changed similarly at Sharon’s apartment in Madripoor and he got to see his bare chest and legs for the first time. His head was so fogged up from having to pretend to be the Winter Soldier he didn’t even get to appreciate them.
“They fit,” Bucky said, prompting Sam to turn around before he had an opportunity to put anything else on. Before he could stop himself, a “wow” escaped his lips.
“Huh?” Sam asked.
“Sorry,” Bucky answered, “I just…you must really be taking this Captain America training regimen seriously because…wow.” He jestured his arms up and down at Sam’s body.
Sam smiled and drank Bucky’s exposed torso in once again, more bold this time. “Not so bad yourself.”
Bucky stalked slowly toward Sam. He could tell Sam was holding his breath as he approached. He listened closely to his pulse pick up as he walked past him and toward the closet. “You should wear this one,” Bucky said, holding out a white shirt with very subtle stitched in maroon polka dot pattern.
Sam just nodded and took the shirt from him and put it on. Bucky returned to the shirt Sam had left for him and did the same as Sam pulled out a pair of black pants for himself and put them on, tucking his shirt in and pulling a belt through it. Bucky took the belt from his jeans and did the same.
“Definitely keep the shirt,” Sam said, “looks better on you.”
That couldn’t possibly be true, Bucky thought to himself, because he was practically drooling looking at Sam in his well-fitted clothes. He did look a bit…stiff though. Bucky walked toward him slowly again, this time stopping right in front of him, and reached up to undo another button. “There, much better.”
They were so close now that Bucky could feel Sam’s breath. He looked down at Sam’s mouth, biting his own bottom lip as he looked back up at Sam. Sam followed his movements and started to lean in slightly.
“UNCLE SAM!” AJ yelled, bursting through the door. Sam nearly fell jumping back quickly. “Uncle Sam! Uncle Bucky!” he yelled again, “mom is freaking out that we’re going to be late.”
This kid was lucky Bucky loved him, otherwise the idea of picking him up and drop-kicking him out the second floor window would have been more than a fleeting intrusive thought.
“We’re driving separately,” Bucky yelled down to Sarah, annoyed “we’ll catch up!”
Sarah beckoned AJ back downstairs and Bucky heard them making their way out the door. He turned back to Sam who was staring intently at the ground. “So…”
“Shoes!” Sam exclaimed, “we are not the same shoe size! You have your black boots right – those should work.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said, “they’re downstairs. We can—”
Sam already had a pair of black shoes in his hand and reached into a drawer for socks. “Let’s head down then,” he said before opening the door and heading out, not even waiting to see if Bucky was following.
Great, Bucky thought. He sighed before heading down to put on his boots.
Bucky thought the drive to the docks was awkward this morning. The drive to the restaurant was quite possibly worse than even the most sadistic torture HYDRA had subjected him too. Sam was tapping the steering wheel aggressively, not at all to the beat of the music. Instead of the cold shoulder Bucky received before, now he was getting the opposite. Sam barely stopped talking enough to even take a breath the whole 27-minute drive. Bucky could not tell you what he was talking about if you held a gun to his head. He wasn’t sure Sam could either. Every time Bucky tuned in it seemed he was on a completely different topic. Bucky meanwhile, was just replaying every second in his head, wondering whether all that electricity and brainwashing had actually fried his brain or whether Sam Wilson was really about to kiss him if they hadn't been interrupted.