Weird Feelings and Dr. Pepper
“Y’know I’ve lived through some insane or silly amount of the craziest hurricanes to ever grace the planet…” Sam Wilson says, tying something else down to the house so it doesn’t blow away in the storm, “But if I’m being honest? I have a weird feeling about this.”
“I’m gonna be so honest, saying that out loud wasn’t necessary.” James- or rather- Bucky Barnes replies, shutting the doors to the shed and locking them with a padlock. “It doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Babe, it doesn’t make either of us feel better.” Sam sighs, raising his arms above his head in a long stretch. The other watches, crossing his arms with a huff and looking towards the docks. He takes some form of solace in knowing the house is further back from the docks than some of the other houses… But worries that even a small piece of driftwood can hit the docks so hard you can hear it in the house- therefore he can assume that the foundations are closer to the water than he thinks… Then again, he’s always been a worrier.
He shakes his head and looks back to the man now throwing a tarp over their grill. “Then why did you say it?” Bucky asks, continuing to stand there and watch the other man.
“I don’t know man, I just be saying shit.” Sam replies, rolling his eyes then rolling his shoulders in their sockets. “I’m sure it will be fine, we’ll be fine. Look at all the good work we’ve already done.” He adds, opening his arms and effectively gesturing at the whole yard. The barn is locked, the single bicycle is tied to the house, the boat is secured to the dock and everything on the boat is either inside or tied down three times, the lawn has been evened with extra dirt to avoid baby lakes forming, the cars are safely locked in the garage, and the windows are boarded. “I think Poseidon himself could rise from the sea and smack our house with his trident and we’d barely feel it.” Bucky rolls his eyes and sighs.
“Yeah… It’ll probably be fine.” Bucky huffs again. “I need a soda- you got anymore Dr. Pepper?” Sam snorts.
“James Barnes you are living in the South of-fucking-course I have Dr. Pepper.” Sam says. He walks to the door, pushes on it, pulls it, pushes again, turns the handle, jiggles it, pushes and yanks and the door opens with a pop. Bucky just watches and trails the other man's heels to the wonders of air conditioning.
Sam walks immediately to the fridges and yanks two cans of Dr. Pepper out of the fridge and sets them on the counter, cracking them and letting them bubble up and then back down. Bucky sits at the table, bouncing his leg and staring at the wall. Sam walks up, by no means quietly, and sets a can down in front of the other man making him startle a bit.
“What’s got ants in your one specific pant leg?” Sam asks, looking at Bucky's leg that’s still bouncing and back up to the man now sipping his soda.
“I’ve never really… experienced a hurricane before.” Bucky says, inspecting his soda can then setting it down and looking at Sam. He takes a deep breath. “I’m just nervous.”
“Well, it doesn’t hit until tomorrow. We’ve got time until you really start worrying… But there wasn’t an evac notice so it’s not the worst we’ve ever had. And we’ve been through a lot so whoever puts out the notice would know if it was going to be too bad.” Sam pauses. “I didn’t articulate that very well but you know what I’m saying.” Bucky nods.
“We’ve got everything tied down and boarded up. We’ve got the generator charged, we’ve got the barbeque ready to go just in case the generator can’t keep power for however long, and we’ve got about thirty million power banks fully charged for our phones.”
“Yeah but what if a tree falls on the house?” Bucky asks, staring back at his drink can.
“What trees?” Sam asks, slightly genuinely curious.
“A trampoline from the neighbors blows into the backyard and breaks a window.”
“Through the wooden boards?” Sam raises his eyebrows questioningly.
“The cars or house itself flood?”
“With the basement that was put there specifically for when it floods to catch the water and prevent the house from flooding? And the water blockers on the doors?” Bucky huffs, Sam is right but he can’t shake the anxiety. Even more now that Sam has admitted he has a weird feeling.
“What if the wind tears the roof off?” Bucky sighs, rubbing his face with his hand. Sam smiles at him.
“Just got a new roof, Buck. We’ll be alright.” Sam says, reaching across the table to hold the other man’s hand. Bucky lets him, holding Sam’s hand back and hoping Sam can’t feel the slight shake in his. Sam can, but he doesn’t say anything. When Bucky finally looks back up at Sam, the other man is just smiling at him.
“I didn’t mean to make you more nervous, but I don’t want to keep my thoughts from you.” Sam says, rubbing his thumb along the back of Bucky’s hand. Bucky shakes his head.
“I know we’ll be fine, I just can’t shake it this time like I usually can.” Bucky takes a deep breath, letting go of his beloved Dr. Pepper and even more beloved bird brain. He shakes his hands, trying to disperse the nervous energy building in his stomach. Sam leans back in his chair and drinks his soda, looking to the window he can no longer see out of. Bucky stands up and starts pacing the kitchen.
“If it makes you feel better, even some of the worst storms I’ve lived through have made some really nice memories.” Sam says, setting his soda on the table but not sitting up. Bucky keeps pacing, fidgeting with his lower lip with his fingers. “One of my favorites is sitting with Sarah in our living room, power out and the only light in the room coming from the sun starting to peek through the clouds… The street is flooded and our parents' car is starting to drift away with the water- we know it’s a total lost cause at this point- but we also know there’s nothing to be done about it. We’re sitting on the floor, chatting and eating one of those little tuna lunch kit things with the crackers… I think about that day a lot.” Sam smiles at the memory. Bucky has stopped pacing and is looking at him.
“Another?” Bucky requests, Sam smiles and sits up, resting his elbows on the table.
“Getting up in the middle of the night to the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard, walking to the living room and looking out the big ass window to see the rain coming down so hard the sky is white. But the wind is so strong it’s moving the rain in waves and so it’s like… Aurora Borealis but white and nerve wracking.” Sam laughs.
“Or, walking through the house during the storm in the middle of the day- you wouldn’t know it was the middle of the day because the clouds outside make it so dark- but we’re reaching the eye of the storm and I’m patrolling the house with a flyswatter looking for roaches.” Bucky laughs this time. “Sarah would scream every time she saw one so I had a siren slash alarm to where one was.”
“Then there was this one time I woke up to ruckus at like four in the morning to my mom telling me the garage was flooding- don’t worry we’ve learned since then- and me just kind of being like ‘kay and then going back to bed without a second thought.” Sam thinks a bit.
“Have you ever had to evacuate?” Bucky asks.
“Oh yeah, I’ve been stuck in that traffic before. We just went up north a bit and either stayed with someone or got a hotel.” Sam answers, taking a sip. Bucky nods, then rubs at his face again.
“You’re gonna give yourself a rash.” Sam says, Bucky smiles and at least Sam can tell he’s feeling a little better. “Plus, you like listening to rain at night. This might be louder but it’ll pretty much be the same thing.” Bucky huffs and groans and sits back down, taking a frustrated sip of his Dr. Pepper.
A loud noise sounds through the house, Bucky jumps and Sam’s eyes widen. Bucky looks around the room frantically before looking back to Sam who is holding up his phone and showing Bucky the amber alert style weather alert.
“A storm is approaching our current location and we’re advised to stay inside until…” Sam looks at his phone. “Thursday.” It’s currently Saturday. Bucky groans again. “And before you ask, no this is not rain I would advise you play in.” Bucky groans louder and significantly more dramatically, Sam laughs.
“Don’t worry. I have Lord of the Rings downloaded and you have more books than the Library of Congress on just your to be read. You’ll be fine.” Sam grins, Bucky glares at him. “I’m going to start dinner.” Sam says, standing up and letting his chair scrape loudly against the floor. Bucky trails him with his eyes, watching the other man start a fire on the stove. Bucky gets up and walks to the other room, thinks about turning on the TV, then just sits on the couch and watches Sam through the doorway.
"Stop staring at me.” Sam says, loud enough for Bucky to hear from the other room.
“You have a nice ass.” Bucky replies, smiling and drinking his soda.
“God you’re such a man, if that were a beer you were drinking I’d take that as an insult.” Sam says, Bucky laughs into his can and nearly spews soda out his nose. Sam snorts at whatever demonic possession noise just came from the living room while Bucky chokes half to death. “I know you grew up in the time of nuclear families, Mr. 1940’s, but I need you to not.” Bucky chokes louder, Sam laughs harder.
After dinner, which ended up being gumbo made of a lot of different things, Sam and Bucky sit in the living room. TV still off, one window opened just enough to see outside. They sit in silence, Sam saying he’s digesting, Bucky still trying to ward off an anxiety attack. Soon something hits the roof, the both look to the window, and about twenty seconds later the pitter patter of rain hits the roof and thirty more seconds later Sam is rushing to shut the window.
“It has begun.” Sam says, turning around slowly and wiggling his fingers in a weird sort of spooky gesture at Bucky, who just snorts and rolls his eyes. “That means it’s bedtime because there ain’t better shit to do.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Okay, and??”
“Fair.” Bucky shrugs and stands up, stretching his back and then swaying a bit. He shakes his head and then follows Sam, who somehow got ahead of him, to the bedroom. Bucky is going to read a book until Sam falls asleep, and then is going to end up falling asleep half on top of the other man. That’s how it always goes and that’s how they like it.
And what could possibly change it?