Lover

In theory, the fact that Sam didn't see Bucky as often should have diminished his feelings for the man, but it wasn't happening that way, and it was truly frustrating.

He focused on his work as Captain America and helped out with the family business when he could, but deep in his mind, there were always those steel-blue eyes that felt like home.

Fortunately, Bucky hadn't stopped responding to his messages this time. In fact, sometimes it was Bucky who initiated conversations, which was a relief for Sam. After having worked, lived, been friends, and developed romantic feelings for the man, he couldn't bear the thought of him disappearing from his life again.

Nearly 5 months had passed since Bucky had left to join the Thunderbolts when Sam received a call from his phone number.

"Buck?" Sam answered, half excited and half worried because calls weren't something they usually did.

"Are you Sam Wilson?" asked a female voice, setting off alarms in Sam.

"Correct. Who are you? Is Bucky... is he okay?"

"I'm Yelena..." Sam noticed the hesitation in her voice.

"I know who you are," he said softly. Nat's sister, Bucky's companion in the Thunderbolts—of course, he knew who she was. "What's happened?" he asked with more desperation than he intended.

"Barnes has suffered serious injuries. The doctors say he'll recover, but I thought you'd want to know."

Sam felt his throat go dry, and a cold sweat ran down his back.

"What happened? How is he?"

"An explosion hit him." A strangled sound escaped Sam's lips. Images of another explosion reaching another one of his comrades, another man important to him, flashed through his mind, blending with new images of Bucky. "Sam?"

Yelena's voice brought him back to reality.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, realizing he was crying.

"He's fine," Yelena reassured Sam. "He's unconscious for now, but the serum is taking effect."

Sam felt relief flooding every part of his being.

"Can I go see him?"

"Of course. I'll send you the hospital name, room number, and address."

After saying their goodbyes and hanging up, Sam received the promised message and began to prepare, trying to ignore the growing ball of anxiety in his chest.

The journey to the hospital felt endless, but finally, he was there. He practically ran to Bucky's room, barely aware of the glances he received.

Yelena was there, and Sam greeted her with a nod, but the man he loved was lying in a bed, and that was all he could think about.

He was afraid of what he might find, but fortunately, Bucky was in better condition than Sam expected.

He had braced himself for the worst, and he was relieved to have been wrong. Yet, a horrible thought crossed his mind: it wasn't fair that Bucky looked practically intact while Riley had been torn apart, and his body couldn't even be fully recovered. Immediately, he hated himself for even thinking it when he was so relieved and grateful to have found Bucky like this. Damn it, he was truly happy about it, but he wished Riley could have been too. Still, he wouldn't trade Bucky's well-being for anything, not even for Riley. And that realization made him hate himself again, a sob escaping his lips.

"Everything okay, Captain?" Yelena asked, catching Sam off guard. He forced himself to nod.

"How is he?" Sam inquired as he moved even closer to the bed.

"Stable. Almost all of his wounds have healed, and the doctors believe he'll wake up soon."

"Can I stay with him?"

"Certainly! He'll be very glad to see you here when he wakes up."

And those words shouldn't have caused the flutter in the stomach that they did, but they still did.

"Yes?"

Yelena nodded.

"Trust me. I'm a spy," Sam smiled and directed a loving look at Bucky, which made the girl smile. Captain America didn't know it, but Yelena had noticed Bucky's infatuation with Sam. That was the reason she had called him in the first place, and she had no doubt that it was fully reciprocated by the new Captain America.

Later, Yelena left, and less than two hours later, Bucky woke up.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Sam greeted.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" Bucky asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Just making sure your stupid ass is okay," Sam replied.

Bucky couldn't help the smile on his lips.

"I'm fine, although I don't think calling someone 'your stupid ass' is something you should say to a convalescent person, especially when you're Captain America," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, screw you, man," Sam retorted, making Bucky look very proud of himself.

Sam went to inform the medical staff that the man had awakened, and after checking on Bucky, they discharged him.

"Do you want me to take you somewhere?" Sam asked. If Bucky's expression was anything to go by, complex thoughts were racing through his brain until he finally nodded.

"Take me home," and the way Bucky said it made Sam certain that he wasn't referring to just any place he lived now but to their shared home in Delacroix. "With you," Bucky added, confirming Sam's suspicions.

Sam didn't know why this made him want to be honest about his feelings—maybe because the fact that Bucky wanted to return to the home they shared made him immensely happy, or perhaps because he had come close to losing him, or at least had felt the fear of it. Whatever it was, he felt he could no longer remain silent for even a second more.

"There's something I need to tell you," Bucky's expression remained almost impassive, but Sam could see the fear in his eyes, which almost made him regret starting that conversation. However, he decided to press on.

"I like you," Sam admitted. In reality, what he felt was much stronger, but he thought that saying "I'm in love with you" at that moment might be too much.

A smile lit up Bucky's entire face.

"You like me too, Sam."

"No, Bucky, I like you as more than a friend," Sam corrected, believing that Bucky hadn't understood him.

Bucky burst into laughter, which hurt Sam deep down.

"Forget I said anything," Sam snapped, turning to head toward the car. But before he could move, Bucky grabbed him.

"Sam?" Bucky asked, a mix of confusion and fear. With a sigh, Sam turned and faced him.

"What?"

"I don't want to forget it."

"So you can keep laughing about what I feel?" The expression on Bucky's face was as if he'd been punched in the stomach, but it softened quickly.

"I wasn't laughing at what you feel, just at the clarification. You also like me as more than a friend, idiot."

"God, I hate you."

"No, you don't," Bucky said, leaning toward him.

"No, I don't," Sam admitted, meeting him halfway and finally kissing him.

"Couldn't you have done that earlier?" Bucky asked with a smile when they pulled apart.

"Shut up," Sam replied, more tenderly than anything else.

"Make me," Bucky retorted with a challenging smile.

"Oh, you can be sure I will," Sam affirmed, also smiling, before kissing him again.