“What do we do?”
“We serve ourselves” Sam said slowly, as though talking to a child. He picked up his plate and began to walk, Bucky copied him quickly, unsure of what he was really doing.
They were staying at a hotel for a mission, some hydra lackies that refused to let go of the past, and apparently Sam had gotten sick of crappy hotels in his time on the run and had to book them a fancy one.
Well, not fancy, judging by the young children running around screaming, but much fancier than anything Bucky had ever stayed in.
Sam lifted one of the lids and picked up one of the metal things beside it. Bucky shifted uncomfortably, feeling extremely out of place. He rarely ate as it was, let alone eating at a fancy hotel that only served strange things he had never heard of.
“Buck” Sam elbowed him and pointed to the case he had just left. “Try those, you’d like them”
Bucky copied what Sam had done earlier, and used the metal things- he should really ask what those are called- to pick up some of the meat and drop it onto his plate. He looked up at Sam, who nodded slightly, as though he knew Bucky was ashamed to be asking for help with this.
Bucky moved on, following Sam loosely but mainly picking out what looked good. That had taken a while to get used to, but he had learned quickly that if he didn’t make choices on what to eat he just wouldn’t eat, and that had nearly killed him enough times.
Every so often, Sam would nudge him gently and point out something he thought he would like, effectively shaking him out of the dark turns his thoughts would take. Bucky thought maybe that was the real point.
They finally reached the end and walked back to their table. Bucky had been repeatedly assured that eating breakfast wouldn’t ruin the mission, and Bucky was almost impressed that Sam had only gotten slightly annoyed by his repeated asking.
Sam seemed to understand that he didn’t know what parts of Hydra were weird, he didn’t know until Steve that most people took off their shoes when they slept. Bucky had thought that left them highly unprepared, what if someone came in while they were sleeping? He also had to learn that most people don’t worry about that.
Bucky felt his shoulders untense as they sat down, away from the crowds and screaming children. Sam brushed their knees together gently and began to eat.
Eating itself didn’t come naturally to Bucky. During his time with Hydra he had been given the nutrients he needed through a drip in his arm, enough to keep him strong and alive but not enough to let him think clearly.
Once he got to Romania he had almost passed out twice before an old woman found him sitting on the street and invited him inside for tea. Her house was old, and part of a string of four outside of the town. She had multiple chickens in a coop outside, about which she complained constantly but took multiple measures to keep foxes out. She had made some strange soup and told him to eat it, all the while helping him improve his broken romanian.
He had gotten an apartment, and made sure to go to the small market outside of it at least every week. When he didn’t eat his head got fuzzy, and he couldn’t afford that.
So really, it was a good thing that they had eaten, but Bucky’s stomach felt tight as he did so.
“Hey,” Sam nudged him with his knee again “You did good, new things suck, I know”
Bucky scowled at him “I’m not a child you know? I can handle new things”
“I know”, Sam stabbed at something with his fork and shovelled it into his mouth before continuing “I’m just saying, being overwhelmed is normal. And you have a lot to be overwhelmed about”
He fell silent again, wolfing down a variety of meats and pastries. Bucky looked down at his own, significantly emptier plate. He would’ve taken more, probably as much as Sam, but even looking at his plate of food made him feel nauseous.
“Try that,” Sam pointed with his fork at the one thing Bucky vaguely recognised “It’s bacon, you’ll like it”
“I know” Bucky replied, cutting off the edge with his fork. (cutlery was another thing to get used to, after 70 years of only using your hands to kill) “We had it. Back then”
Sam smiled and turned back to his food, surprisingly hungry for someone who had snacked last night. Bucky put the bacon in his mouth hesitantly, and on a reflex put a hand over his mouth to stop himself from spitting it out.
Sam looked him up and down, an amused smile on his face “What’s up?”
Bucky swallowed and fought the embarrassed grin on his face “Salty”
Sam laughed as loud as he possibly could without drawing attention to them, and sliced his own bacon “Yeah, they put as much salt as they can on these. Don’t like it?”
Bucky frowned, considering his answer. Sam seemed to like it, and it’s not that he didn’t like the salt he was just…surprised. He shook his head and took another bite, knowing what to expect this time. It was good.
“It’s good” He confirmed, smiling slightly. Sam smiled back at him, pointing to another piece and speaking about his grandmother. Bucky rested his chin on his hand and listened, unfazed when a couple with their screaming child walked by.