Twisted Ends

“This is your fucking plan?” Bucky gritted out, cramped in the back of a small Tuk-Tuk.

“What do you mean, is this my plan?” Sam was crammed up rather closely beside him, his shoulder jamming Bucky’s into the back corner of the tiny vehicle. Sam looked at him with an affronted look, his face so close that Bucky could feel his breath ghosting his lips.

“I’ve gotten us this far, haven’t I?” Sam grumbled, attempting to shift. The motion only seemed to dig his hip deeper into Bucky’s thigh, the contact not unpleasant but…a little too confined for Bucky’s taste. Bucky swallowed nervously. He grinded his teeth together, focusing on maintaining his breathing and ignoring the flutter inside his chest.

“You’re aware that you’re Captain America, right? You know, the man with a God damned plan? That guy?” Bucky hissed, grunting as the Tuk-Tuk slammed them around, seeming to hit every pothole on the road. “Fucking Jesus.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, giving Bucky a long, suffering look. “You’re awful crabby today, Buck.”

Bucky glowered back, feeling his mood continuing to sour. “I’m being tossed around like a god damn rag doll in the back of a fucking clown car, Wilson. What am I supposed to be? All rainbows and butterflies?”

He watched as Sam’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, a long, whining whistle blowing obnoxiously passed his lips. “Wow.” Sam said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “You’re in an especially hostile mood today.”

Bucky felt his frown deepen, his left eye slowly beginning to twitch in irritation. He breathed in deeply and counted backwards from ten, a neat trick his therapist had taught him. Wouldn’t do them any good if he killed Captain America. That would most certainly upset HYDRA.

And of course, the rest of the world, since Sam was somehow a beloved icon. Go figure.

“How much fucking longer of this anyway?” Another bump, this time causing him to smack the top of his head against the dented metal roof. “Fuck!!”

Sam opened his eyes and sighed, glancing down at his watch. “Probably another thirty minutes or so until we reach our rendezvous with Rhodes.” He looked over at Bucky, giving him a sideways grin. “Who knew you were such a grump on car rides.” He made a solemn face. “Maybe you need to get laid.”

“Watch it, Samuel, or I swear to God I’ll smack that dumb look off your face.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Wow, I’m not even going to answer that kind of response. You’re making this a hostile work environment, Barnes.”

Bucky scoffed, attempting to shimmy himself into a more comfortable position. Instead, he ended up having something sharp and more than likely rusty poking at his back, digging irritatingly into his kidneys. He huffed, his hair blowing out of his eyes. Thank God for the serum, otherwise he’d end this trip dead from tetanus.

Wouldn’t that be the way to go.

“So is this Muppet mobile.” He ground out, fighting the urge to punch something. God…he really, REALLY wanted to punch something.

“I’ve just barely recovered from the last brain injury; I really don’t feel like adding another. Also,” he gritted out, “Stop thinking about me getting laid.” Another bump, this time accompanied by a tin ammo can falling onto his knee. He let out a fluent string of curses. Sam looked on in appreciation.

“I don’t think I’ve heard half of those before.” Sam quipped, moving deftly to remove the metal bin from his knee. “You’re quite creative.”

“I’m about to get a whole lot more creative if we don’t get out of this fucking thing soon.” Bucky hissed, rubbing at the knot beginning to form underneath his tac pants. “God, I hate Madripoor.”

Sam reached out and clasped his hand on Bucky’s knee, his fingers working around the knot in assessment. Bucky felt his heart stutter at the contact, his mouth suddenly becoming dry as cotton.

Things had been…different between them since the hospital. Like a rubber band had been hyperextended and was on the verge of snapping. He could feel it all around them, a palpable change hanging so tangibly in the air between them that he swore if he just reached out, just brushed his hand alongside Sam’s, that the coil would finally snap.

He blinked the thoughts from his mind. He needed to focus. They were on a mission, and he needed to stay sharp. Any lack of awareness, the barest of hesitation could mean death here. Besides, Sam didn’t think of him like that…he couldn’t. He’d said he’d loved him, but that couldn’t mean anything…It didn’t. It was all in his head. They were just…friends.

The word seemed sour in his mouth.

Sam hummed as he continued to feel around his knee, his hand lingering as he gave Bucky a disconcerting look. Bucky swore if he kept up with the unnecessary touching, he was going to…to something. He just didn’t know what. It was very distracting having Sam this close.

“I think you might lose it.” Sam eventually said, his voice low and serious.

Bucky rolled his eyes, trying his best to ignore the way his skin was heating up along his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, guess you’re right. A real shame that’d be.” he said, bending his knee to bring it closer to his chest. What he didn’t expect was Sam’s hand to glide along with it.

Bucky felt his breathing stop, everything slowing down as all he could focus on was the feeling of Sam’s hand, the new angle causing it to gradually slide just slightly down his thigh. He bit the inside of his cheek, heart hammering wildly in his chest at the contact.

He looked over to Sam, who was looking at him with a curious expression. Bucky had seen Sam with numerous facial expressions, mainly his stupid ones, when he was about to do something incredibly reckless. Or when he was upset and about to give someone the biggest ass chewing of the century.

But he’d never seen this one. He was looking at him with such conviction, an almost heated look in his gaze. Bucky licked his lips anxiously, his already frantically beating heart kicking into overdrive when Sam looked down at the motion, tracking his tongue with rapt attention.

Oh God.

The Tuk-Tuk took a drastic turn before slamming its breaks, the sudden stop causing Sam and Bucky to be thrown and tumble around the back, both cursing as elbows and knees dug into soft spots.

“Fuck! Wilson! That’s my rib-“

“Get your metal arm out of my abdomen, Barnes!”

“Woah, woah, WOAH! Wilson! Hands off the goods, Jesus!”

Bucky grunted, shoving at the sudden weight on top of him. His eyes widened as he began to internally panic, pushing as Sam laid sprawled on top of him.

“Get-Off-Me-Samuel!” He yelped, grunting as a knee pushed precariously into his groin. “Wilson!” he hissed, pushing at him desperately.

The back of the Tuk-Tuk flew open, the bright light blinding them. Bucky squinted, jutting his chin upwards as he cast an upside-down look towards the door, waving weakly as Rhodey appeared in his vision. “Well, hey there, stranger.” He joked, sighing internally at Rhodey’s inverted frown.

“The fuck are you two doing?” he demanded. He gave Sam a ghastly look. “Wilson, get off him. Good God, didn’t your momma teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

Bucky huffed as the weight disappeared from his chest, rolling off his back and onto his stomach. Finally. He was finally going to get off this hellish vehicle.

And away from a potentially very…embarrassing predicament.

“Why are you always so mean to me?” Sam whined to his left, jumping out of the back and landing heavily to stand beside Rhodey.

Rhodey’s frown only deepened in annoyance.

“Because he’s traumatized enough, Wilson. I’m not going to pick on a man while he’s down. Besides, you need the picking. Keep your ego in check.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side, squinting up at Rhodey, not entirely sure if he should be thankful or offended. Probably offended, knowing Rhodes.

“Thank you?” he said, pushing off his elbows and tucking himself into a neat roll, feet landing silently on the ground. Sam groaned.

“Why must you always show off?” Bucky quirked a brow.

“Not my fault you’re as stealthy as an Ox, Wilson.”

“Well not everyone can twirl like a ballerina, Barnes.” Sam shot back.

“You’re just jealous of my dexterity, Wilson.” He said lowly, winking underneath lowered lashes. He gave Sam his best sultry look, pouting his lips into a sly smirk. “You should really stretch, being flexible comes in handy sometimes.”

Something dark flashed in Sam’s eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Bucky blinked in surprise. He wasn’t expecting…that.

“Watch it, Barnes.” Sam murmured, moving past him as they began their trek to Rhodey’s commandeered vehicle. His shoulder brushed against him unnecessarily, and he leaned in close. His voice was low and raspy. “Careful how you fuck with me.”

He then flashed a cheery smile and carried on, walking in stride with Rhodey and leaving Bucky frozen to the spot, his brain short circuiting. He blinked a few more times, shaking his head as he forced himself to unglue his feet from where they had planted themselves.

What the hell was that?

He picked himself into a slow jog to catch up, nimbly flashing by as he raised a middle finger.

“Real mature, Buck!” Sam called out, that same emotion flashing in his eyes.

Bucky shrugged, slowing down to a stop as he waited for the two of them to catch up. “I’m the youngest one here, remember?” He grinned, watching as Rhodey looked between the two of them, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “I’m just a young man, Cap. I don’t know any ounce of maturity.” He made his eyes wide and big, blinking his lids in an innocently confused fashion.

Sam returned the bird, sticking his middle finger out in a heated motion. Bucky raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Rhodey huffed in feign annoyance, waving his hand in the air in front of them.

“Would you please shut your childish bitching and feast your eyes on the new and improved whip.” He opened the doors, revealing a lavish leather interior. Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Seems a bit much, don’t you think?” He said, making his way slowly around the SUV. He gracefully jumped down to his stomach, deftly rolling underneath the vehicle’s belly. He let his eyes roam over the metal frame, looking for any signs of tampering.

Thankfully, there weren’t any. God bless Madripoor and their poor quality in henchman. The small mercies in life.

“Don’t be giving me lip, Barnes. It’s not my paycheck flushing down the drain. Given the givens, I say we use it. Enjoy ourselves a bit.”

Bucky grunted as he rolled back out from underneath the vehicles frame, startling slightly as Sam’s hand jutted into view. He took it cautiously, relishing the warmth as Sam hoisted him up effortlessly. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him, could feel the burn on the back of his neck as he turned to poke his head into the car.

He wasn’t running away. He was going to address this. Face it head on.

Just…

Just not yet.

“Yeah,” he jabbed, plopping quickly into the passenger seat. “It’s the taxpayers. Not very courteous of you to just be wasting the taxpayer’s money, Rhodes.”

Rhodey threw a granola bar his way, Bucky catching it just as it was about to connect with the side of his face. “Are heated seats a waste of taxpayer money, Barnes?” Rhodey leaned over, poking excitedly at a button on the center console. Bucky grimaced.

“Turn that shit off, Rhodey. Good God, we’re in the tropics. I do not need a seat warmer right now.” Bucky quickly turned the button off. Rhodey looked at him with blank eyes.

“What?” Bucky groaned, leaning his head back onto the headrest.

“You’re awfully pissy today, aren’t you?” Rhodey snarked, turning to face Sam who was making himself comfortable in the back. “What’s his deal?” Sam shrugged, making an obnoxious sound as he turned on his own seat warmer.

“Told him he needed to get laid.” Sam chirped, groaning unnecessarily as he leaned into his seat. “Make him less bitchy.”

Bucky spun around, pointing an accusing finger at Sam.

“Stop it, Wilson.” He squawked, observing Rhodey out of the corner of his eye, who was trying very hard to keep himself occupied, poking to turn his heated seat back on. Dick.

“Stop bringing up my sex life. Worry about your own.” He hissed, turning around in his seat and crossing his arms defensively.

Rhodey took in a deep breath, holding it for such a long pause that Bucky slowly turned his head to check that he hadn’t passed out.

Rhodey quickly rushed, “Maybe you should get laid. Been over seventy years, right?”

Bucky blinked. Then blinked again. “RHODES!”

He threw the granola bar back, Rhodey yelling as it smacked him in the nose.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bucky swore that the longer he existed, the worse things seemed to get. Coffee used to have that pizazz, that delicious and smokey zing to it that would fill his body with a humming sensation. He used to love coffee, loved how the caffeine would make him come alive, and how it would be a heavenly god send in the field with just the right amount of sugar.

Sugar that he’d normally stolen from his fellow soldiers, especially the asshole ones that had purposely fucked with him because of his close friendship to Steve Rogers, but he wasn’t going to go into that.

Yet as the years had flown by, it just seemed that coffee had lost its spark, its charm. There was a God forsaken coffee shop on every corner in Brooklyn, yet most of their cups were filled with sugar laden, disgusting excuses for coffee. It was depressing.

And here he was, yet again. Being depressed, because they were in Madripoor, and unfortunately the only thing in common the pirate island had with Brooklyn was its share of shit coffee.
And shitty spies, but whatever.

“Sam, for fuck’s sakes, act casual.” Bucky ground out between his teeth; arm slung back languidly on his chair. He ensured that his ballcap was slung low over his eyes, his legs crossed as he took in their surroundings.

“What do you mean, act casual? I AM being casual.” Sam hissed back, leaning forward in his chair. He dropped a piece of his scone and cursed, bending under the table to retrieve it.

Bucky rolled his eyes, bringing the repulsive liquid to his lips. He fought to keep his lips uncurled, drinking down the coffee as he eyed their target. “You’re too fidgety.” he said, casting a quick glance as Sam clamored back into his seat, looking disheveled and out of place. “Just focus on eating your pastry.”

Sam scoffed, tearing the scone into little pieces and dipping it into some unknown substance. “I’d be less fidgety if I knew all the details to this plan, Buck.”

Bucky hummed, his fingers tapping lazily on the back of his wicker chair. He observed as the target waited for his ridiculously long order, seeming to run to the counter every few minutes to revise it.

He slowly cocked his head towards Sam, giving him a sly, leering smirk. “I’m just taking a chapter out of your book, Cap.” He showed teeth, quirking a brow as he took another sip of atrocious coffee. “Half assed plans and all.”

Sam’s lips pulled into a pout, tossing crumbs of scone at his face. “Samuel.” Bucky hushed, risking a quick glance at their target, who was yet again ordering another coffee. Jesus.

“Stop throwing pieces of your fucking scone at me, you dipshit. What are you? Twelve?.”

Sam threw another chunk, pulling a face as he stuck his tongue out. “It’s a croissant, Barnes. Educate yourself.”

“How the fuck did you graduate elementary school, given the fact you can’t tell the difference between a scone and a god damned croissant.” Bucky hissed back, catching another piece of pastry before it flew into his eye. He swiftly sent it back with a quick flick of a finger, nailing Sam in between his brows. Sam cursed, clutching at his forehead.

“It’s a miracle you made it past infancy. And put that tongue away before I put it away for you.” Sam quirked an eyebrow, looking at Bucky as he fluttered his lashes.

“You’ll put it away for me, huh?”

Jesus Christ. How could someone be so obnoxiously good looking? And annoying? Obnoxiously annoying and idiotic…

And hot. God, he was fucked.

“Would you two, for the love of God, get your shit together before you fuck this up?

Rhodes anger whispered in Bucky’s ear, his annoyance palpable. Bucky huffed, allowing himself to slouch further into his seat, hooking his ankle into Sam’s knee. Sam made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, eyes going hysterically wide at the sudden contact.

“Buck!”

“Barnes! Whatever you’re doing, knock that shit off!”

Bucky leaned his head backwards, resting it lightly on the back of his headrest. Sam made a move to snark something, probably something incredibly rude and stupid, when out of the corner of his eye, he caught the target staring directly at them. Fuck.

He quickly leaned forward, grasping gently at Sam’s chin. He peered at Sam with heavy lids, seductively fluttering his eyelashes as he leaned in close. He could smell Sam’s raspberry scone on his breath. He was so close, so tantalizingly close, that he could hear how Sam’s heartrate spiked.

“Don’t punch me, please.” He murmured lowly, quickly glancing down at Sam’s lips before peering towards the counter. The man was still looking at them, so Bucky made an executive decision.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear a voice screaming that this was a very, very bad idea. That there would be consequences, that this was going to ruin everything they had ever worked towards.

Bucky ignored it, swiftly closing the space between them, his lips cautiously finding Sam’s. He tried his best to disregard the lightening that seemed to light every nerve ending in his body on fire, the way he felt himself naturally lean into the kiss. He fought the urge to reach across the table and pull Sam closer, instead focusing on the way their lips slowly moved across each other, the tickle sending pleasant zings down his spine.

Sam hesitated for a split second, and for a moment, Bucky was concerned that he would pull away. That he had overstepped. But then Sam’s hands found his face and pulled him closer, his stomach slamming into the table between them.

Sam seemed to kiss the way he fought, with ferocious passion, his tongue pushing mercilessly through Bucky’s teeth to explore his mouth. Bucky barely bit back the moan that threatened to escape his lips, the kiss turning dirty and unbecoming for a public outing.

‘The mission, Barnes. Use your top brain, not the one in your pants.’

Bucky risked another glance towards the counter, watching as the target seemed to balk at the public indecency, his order finally ready and making his way towards the door.

He turned back to Sam, running his tongue deftly over his teeth before biting gently at his lip, slowly leaning back as he tracked the targets movement. Sam’s pupils were blown black, and he was slightly out of breath, his bottom lip plump and slick.

‘Jesus.’ Bucky gawked at the sight, trying to shake the arousal that threatened to overflood his senses. “Target.” He gasped, his voice already raspy and wrecked. “Leaving.”

Sam nodded, leaning himself back and placing his napkin on the table. He swiftly stood up, the picture of professionalism, and offered his hand to Bucky. He took it, the heat in his stomach coiling at the contact.

“Later,” Sam said, his voice almost a growl. “We are talking about this.” He then turned on his heels, Bucky not far behind him as they exited the shop.

They watched as the target rounded a corner, his arms overflowing with coffees and various brown bags. They walked stride for stride, shoulder to shoulder as they tailed him.

Bucky felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, a sudden shiver running itself down his spine. He reached out swiftly, grasping firmly at the back of Sam’s collar and yanking him back behind the brick corner, bullets ricocheting where he’d just stood.

“Incoming! You’ve got incoming!” Rhodes yelled in their ears, Bucky wincing as his senses went into overdrive.

“No, Rhodes. Really? Fucking where?” Bucky snapped, quickly pulling out his sig and flinging himself around the corner.

“Bucky!” Sam called out, pinned behind a dumpster. “The hell are you doing?!”

Bucky felt an eerily familiar sense of calm wash over him, his eyes focusing on the targets at hand. He lifted his gun, his hands automatically knowing where to land as his finger pulled the trigger.

One down.

Another.

Two more hit the ground.

A man with a machine gun peered over a nearby roof.

Fuck.

Bucky spun himself through the air, tightly tucking his arms to his side as he quickly spiraled, feeling bullets brush against his shoulders and hips. He hit the ground rolling, kicking himself into a flip and landing daintily on his feet. He broke into a sprint, firing as he ran, eyes focused on the gunman above.

Bang. Four.

Bang, Bang. Five. Six.

He launched nimbly onto a nearby dumpster, using his momentum to run along the side of the building. He kickflipped off the brick, Vibranium arm reaching out and grasping onto the nearby ladder. He swung with the force, launching himself into the air and grabbing the edge of the roof. He kicked his heels over his head, summersaulting as he landed behind the gunman, eyes flashing as he raised his gun.

“Put it down.” He gritted out, watching as the man began to lift his machine gun. “Don’t do it!” The man raised the muzzle, finger going for the kill. Bucky pulled the trigger first, watching as the gunman fell to the ground.

He gritted his teeth, walking over and kicking the gun from his hands, the blank stare seeming to look through his soul. They never fucking listened.

The sound of Sam shouting pulled him from his thoughts, and gunshots cracked through the air. Bucky peered down below, watching as Sam tussled with the goon from earlier, barely dodging the knife trying to stab into his gut.

Everything seemed to freeze around him, his eyes locked on the weapon as it came perilously close to Sam’s carotid artery.

Sam parried, kicking the man square in the chest. He didn’t budge. Sam’s eyes widened.

Bucky watched as the goon punched Sam, sending him flying with an impossible force, the sound of Sam’s back hitting the brick resounding in the air.

Bucky saw red.

One minute he was on the roof, an observer. The next he was like a bat out of hell, flying off the building in one leap, an animalistic rage coursing through his veins. He had to get to Sam.
Sam had been slammed into that wall with such force, more force than an average human could take. Like-

Like Lemar.

And he was just lying there, a heap on the ground, unmoving-

Bucky was on the man before he could blink, slamming down onto him with his Vibranium arm. The other man held up against the assault, grinning as he swiped his knife at Bucky’s face.

‘He’s a God damned super soldier.’

Bucky bellowed in rage, watching as the man’s grin slowly slipped from his face. He could see the fear beginning to seep in, his eyes widening as Bucky pummeled into him like a vengeful machine. He could practically smell the fear starting to radiate off him.

Good.

He snapped his leg out, hearing the satisfying crunch of a knee. Another kick, this time to the ribs. He could feel them give way under his boot. The man hobbled backwards, wiping blood from his mouth, eyes wide and panicked.

“Demon!” The man cursed in Madripoori, throwing a knife at his face. Bucky caught it between two fingers, the motion reminding him of how just a few moments ago, he’d done the same with a stupid piece of scone.

Sam.

He looked to the wall, watching as Sam slowly began an attempt to rise, before falling back to the ground with a stunned expression.

Bucky’s face clouded, a snarl overtaking his features and pulling on his lips. He could feel his pulse rapidly beating in his chest, how his pupils were dilating in, taking in every miniscule detail. All he could feel was this white, blinding rage, the heat of it radiating from his stomach up into his chest, lighting him up with its deadly fire. He slowly turned to the goon, watching as the man took a small step backwards in fear.

“My momma once said that demons run when a good man goes to war.” Bucky said lowly, prowling closer to the man as he attempted to flee.

Oh. How cute.

He flung his arm out and released the knife, watching with grim satisfaction as it slammed with a deadly thwack into his back. The man let out a cry, collapsing to the ground in a pathetic heap.

Bucky stalked silently over, relishing as the goon began to plea, to beg. That he hadn’t known what he was doing, that he was just following orders. That he wouldn’t say anything.
Bucky could feel it, that rage boiling over, threatening to spill. Threatening to overtake him. To fling him over the edge into something terrifyingly familiar-

Bucky bent over menacingly, grasping tightly at the man’s throat to shut his babbling. He could feel himself squeeze, straightening himself upright and watching as the mans legs kicked out wildly.

It was like he was in an out of body experience, watching from somewhere else…like he wasn’t totally in control.

It all felt so eerily familiar.

He bared his teeth, narrowing his eyes as the man slapped uselessly at his Vibranium arm, flailing helplessly against the hand around his throat.

“Thing is though,” Bucky said, voice low and calm, the outline of his vision a crimson red. “I’m not a good man. I AM the demon.” He tightened his grip a bit more, smirking as pink bubbles began to pour from the goon’s gaping mouth. “You should have run.”

The man continued to flail; his mouth wide open as he tried to gasp for air. Bucky could see the life slowly leaving his eyes, the light dimming ever so slightly-

A hand lightly landed on his shoulder, startling him. He looked over, Sam’s face just inches from his own. His eyes were slightly foggy with what could only be a concussion, but they were currently focused on him, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Bucky, don’t.” Sam whispered, his hand squeezing his shoulder gently. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” He tilted his head towards the thrashing man. “Let him go, Buck.”

Bucky turned back to the man at hand, suddenly feeling hot tears threatening to spill from his eyes. This was the Winter Soldiers move.

What was he doing? He was killing out of rage, this wasn’t him, this wasn’t-

He dropped the man gracelessly to the ground, watching as he sputtered and choked. He could feel his lip trembling slightly, his Vibranium hand twitching to finish the job. To finish the man that had tried to kill Sam, to kill-

“Bucky,” Sam dipped into his line of sight, his eyes blinking rapidly. “It’s okay. We need him. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Bucky sniffed, nodding stiffly as he gently passed around Sam, squatting next to the goon currently gasping on the ground. Bucky steeled his gaze, willing his eyes to dry as he gave his best glare.

He pointed a finger, lip curling up as he snarled, “You and I,” he paused, eyes narrowing. “We’re going to have a nice, long chat.”