Chapter 6
Sam bursts inside the apartment, startling Bucky from where he's lounging on the couch. He's almost through with Bridgerton but he's already contemplating watching it again. What can he say, he loves watching Simon on a loop. Especially the scenes where he gets rid of his clothes.
For a second he feels caught, as if he's watching something he shouldn't out in the living room, like porn, before reminding himself it's just a show on Netflix.
''Jesus Christ.'' he breathes just when Sam skits to a halt in front of him. ''Where's the fire?''
''Get up.'' Sam rips the soft blanket from his legs and he groans in frustration, trying to peel it back from Sam's fingers. He doesn't give in. ''We're going ice skating.''
Bucky looks at him as if he's lost his mind. ''Ice skating.''
Sam nods enthusiastically. ''Ice skating.'' he confirms. ''There's this really cool indoor ice skate rink a few blocks from here, with like disco lights and music, the whole works.''
He blinks slowly, processing the thought. It's not like he doesn't want to go with Sam because that's what friends do, right? Friends do fun stuff together.
''I don't know how to. I never learned.'' Bucky admits.
''Don't worry,'' Sam wriggles his fingers as he reaches for Bucky's hands. ''I'll teach you.''
A few months ago he would have laughed at Sam's face, asking him if he lost his Goddamn mind. There was no way he would have agreed to such a ridiculous idea. Even simply thinking about it would be enough to crack him up.
He doesn't feel like laughing this time.
But Sam is looking at him with those dark eyes of him, anticipation buzzing his skin. He looks downright happy at the idea of hanging out with Bucky and he notices he doesn't hate the idea as much as he would a while back.
''Fine.'' he sighs, allowing Sam to grab his hands and lift him from the couch.
They waste little time in changing into appropriate clothes for the cold. Bucky changes into two t-shirts and a thick hoodie, his leather jacket over it, taking a pair of gloves, a scarf and a woollen hat with him. Since the accident he naturally runs a bit colder, always on the edge of too chilly. Even during summer he often wears long sleeves. Sam seems to have no problem with that, simply wearing a long sleeved shirt and his jacket.
''You're going to freeze in that.'' Bucky comments, letting go of his scarf when Sam takes it from him. His belly does the weird clenching thing, again, when Sam hooks the scarf around Bucky's neck. It reminds him to call his doctor for that, it starts to get a bit out of hand.
''Don't worry about me, I'll skate myself warm. Besides, you're the cyborg with the temperature regulation problem.''
Bucky shoots him a dry look. ''Bite me, Wilson.''
''Nah, we didn't reach that stage yet.'' Sam teases, his fingers brushing Bucky's neck before he releases the scarf. ''Come on, let's go.''
**
The ice rink is filled with people when they arrive. Couples skating hand in hand, groups of teenagers lounging at the edge as they watch the other people skate, children skating slowly as their parents prevent them from falling over.
Bucky allows himself to take everything in; the people, the music playing from the speakers, disco lights lighting up the whole room, easy chatter and laughter echoing between the walls. An uneasy feeling nips at his neck and he moves closer to Sam without noticing, silently asking for comfort.
He receives it easily enough when Sam guides him to sit down on a bench where they can tie their skates in peace. This is another thing about Sam he never knew and is only now noticing. Sam is really considerate about other people, he always knows what they need even when they don't say it out loud.
Bucky is no exception.
He's a silent worrier by heart, never knowing how to talk about what he's feeling. Sam is the exact opposite, he never has troubles about speaking up. That was one of the things Bucky always hated about him but now he realised it was probably just jealously.
Sam makes it seem so easy. To Bucky it feels like something impossible.
It takes a lot to take him truly out of his head. But he plans on enjoying this afternoon with Sam, even if it'll take him a while to adjust.
Sam helps him to the rink where he is the first to step on the ice. He makes it seem really easy, not even losing balance once as he turns to face Bucky. He holds out his hand and waits until Bucky takes it. The heat of his hand seeps through the thin material of his gloves.
''Don't let me fall.'' he warns, stepping on the ice with one foot.
''Who do you think I am? An amateur?''
Bucky smirks before carefully stepping on the ice with both feet. ''Kinda, yeah.''
''I'm going to drop you just for insulting me.''
''No, you won't.''
Sam's eyes soften and he smiles, also taking Bucky's other hand to steady him. ''No, I won't.'' he agrees easily.
They take it slow. Bucky feels like fucking Bambi with how unsteady his legs are. He doesn't fall but that's only because Sam catches him every time. His body is warm against Bucky's and again he wonders how the hell he isn't freezing while wearing so little layers.
Besides the fact that ice skating is not really a talent of his, he has a really good time. Sam keeps laughing every time he almost falls, laughing even harder when Bucky gets angry. But they also have a lot of fun together. His stomach hurts from laughing so much.
He hadn't been so happy in a very long time.
''How are you so good at this?'' Bucky grumbles, focusing on carefully moving his feet. Sam is slowly skating backwards, still holding his hands as he goes. His eyes change colour every now and then when the lights flicker and Bucky has a hard time ignoring that in favour of not falling flat on his face.
''My nephews love ice skating.'' Sam explains. ''So I taught myself to make sure I could go with them whenever they wanted.''
Bucky falls silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. He should know that's something Sam would do, simply to make his nephews happy. It's fucking endearing and makes his heart squeeze. Not that he would admit that.
He clears his throat. ''How many nephews do you have?'' His balance gets wobbly for a second before Sam catches him again, their bodies getting closer as Sam hooks his arm around Bucky's waist.
''Careful.'' Sam doesn't let go and stills their movement so they can stand at the side for a small break. ''Two nephews,'' he continues. ''AJ and Cass.''
''Do you visit them often?'' Bucky asks, supressing a soft smile when he sees the way Sam's eyes crinkle with joy.
''Yeah, I do. Mostly during the holidays but also during the weekends when I'm not working.''
Bucky nods in agreement, smiling a little. ''I never really took you for a family man.'' he admits, laughing at Sam's face.
''What? I'll have you know I'm a great family man.'' Sam pinches his side, ignoring Bucky's yelping. ''My nephews love me and I love them. Besides, I want to have a family of my own one day.'' He suddenly seems a bit shy and a pink colour rises to his cheeks.
A few months ago Bucky would have mocked him without a single doubt in his mind. The thought of Sam with a bunch of kids would sound ridiculous to him but now it feels really natural.
''You would be great at that. Being a dad.'' The words are out before he can rethink them, heat rising to his own cheeks. He's never this straight-forward.
''Yeah?'' Sam's eyes flicker between his own. ''You think so?'' There's a certain tension between them that makes Bucky feel really bashful and makes breathing a little hard. The now familiar feeling behind his ribs returns.
He's calling his doctor after this. He could be dying without knowing it all this time.
''Sure.'' He swallows thickly again.
He's never really seen Sam with kids but he is sure that Sam would make a great parent. He is really caring and has a kind heart, there is nothing he would do better than raise children.
Something flashes over Sam's face he doesn't recognise and the arm around his waist slowly pulls Bucky closer. His brain starts crashing, suddenly feeling like something obviously is happening without understanding what it is.
He never gets the change to wait and see what happens because gravity breaks the moment apart.
Before he knows it his feet slip and he falls backwards. It goes too fast for his head to catch up with what exactly happened until his back hits the ice. The air gets punched from his lungs and makes the edges of his sight darken.
Sam must have tried to catch him because he's hovering above him, his free hand cradling the back of Bucky's head. It must have saved him from hitting his head against the ice because there's no blinding headache. His back hurts though, causing him to groan in pain.
''-uck, Bucky. Shit, you okay?''
The world around him starts spinning again as if he was under water and breaks the surface, every motion and sound speeding up. Sam is talking to him, a worried scowl on his face. ''How many fingers am I holding up?''
Bucky laughs a bit breathless, pushing Sam's fingers out of the way. ''Twenty.'' he grumbles, groaning when Sam helps him sit up. The ice is freezing his ass off but he makes no move to stand up.
''Jokes on you, I held up twenty-two fingers.'' Sam answers before grinning. He wipes some ice flakes from his back before pulling Bucky's hat back over his ears. ''Seriously, are you okay? You went down pretty hard.''
''I'm fine.'' Bucky answers, ducking his head when Sam's dark eyes bore inside the side of his head. He has a habit of gazing into people's souls without probably meaning to but it makes him feel restless whenever Sam does it to him.
Sam stands up first before helping Bucky to his feet. The pain in his back is already fading, only a dull ache remaining.
''Next time we're going to do something, I'm choosing. Preferably something more safe and less slippery.''
Another weird look flashes through Sam's eyes, the corners of his mouth wobbling as if he's supressing a big smile. Instead he simply takes Bucky's hands again, a silent signal that they can give it another go.
''Whatever you want, Buck.'' he answers, softly squeezing his hands.
''Don't call me that.'' Bucky replies easily, teasing Sam a bit. He doesn't actually care about it as how he did before.
Sam slowly starts skating backwards, pulling Bucky with him. He smiles.
**
''I told you this would happen.''
Sam glares at him from his bed but it falls entirely flat with his bloodshot eyes. Their ice skating afternoon left its marks. Visibly on Bucky, his back is still purple from falling. Not so visible for Sam, who got sick a few days after.
At first it was just a little sniffing and coughing. Bucky didn't think too much about it since they both were busy with work, only seeing each other quickly in the morning and late in the evening. But then Sam's nose grew red, the coughing got worse, the sneezing started and suddenly he felt so sick he stayed home from work.
It grew impossible to ignore.
He looks like death warmed over. His skin has a sickly ashy colour and his eyes are dull, shivering beneath the three blankets covering him.
Bucky didn't tell Sam he took a few days from work just to take care of him.
God, he's becoming soft.
He squats down next to the bed, gently pressing his human fingers against Sam's forehead. His fever has gone down a bit since he got sick but it's still too high for his liking.
''Are you still cold?'' he asks when he notices the tiny trembles beneath his hand. It worries him that Sam is still so sick after a few days filled with medicine and rest. Shouldn't that be enough to make him feel at least a little bit better?
Sam doesn't reply, worrying Bucky even more. He craves a sarcastic remark from Sam, anything to prove he's feeling a little more like himself. Bucky sighs deeply, swiping the pad of his thumb over Sam's temple.
''Do you think taking a bath would help? I'll change your sheets if you want.'' he proposes.
Steve won't be home for another few days. He took the week off with Tony, taking the time to go through the last details for the wedding. They wanted to make sure everything was in order and perfect before the big day.
So it's just them.
Bucky doesn't mind. With every passing day they grow closer and he starts to notice it's quite easy to be friends with Sam. His body doesn't activate the fight-or-flight button anymore when Sam gets close. Instead he starts to crave the moments where Sam will touch him. It's confusing but he's dealing with it.
Sort of.
Do tiny mental breakdowns count every time Sam touches him? Because if so, he's totally dealing with it.
He forces himself to step out of his head when Sam sighs miserably. His fingers twitch to reach out and touch him. Sam wriggles one arm free from beneath the covers and Bucky's eyes flicker to his arm. He's not wearing a shirt and- okay. Why the fuck not?
Because of the fever probably, his head reminds him. Right.
''A bath sounds nice.'' Sam whispers. He doesn't even flinch when Bucky pats his arm with his vibranium hand even though the difference in temperature must be huge with the way his skin is burning up.
''I'll go and make it ready for you. D'you think you can get up on your own?'' he asks before standing up. Sam nods so he hums softly, squeezing his arm momentarily. ''I'll be right back.''
Bucky makes quick work of running a bath for Sam. He makes sure the water isn't too hot or too cold, adding some bubbles and calming lavender oil. It feels a bit ridiculous to go so far for a simple bath but he ignores it. Sam is sick, it's not weird Bucky wants him to feel better.
He lets the tub fill slowly as he returns to the bedroom, his eyes immediately falling on Sam. He manages to sit up in bed, his legs still underneath the blankets. Bucky tries so hard not to look but he's only human and Sam is shirtless and-
Fuck.
His brain restarts when Sam tries to move out of bed, groaning in pain as he goes. Bucky rushes forwards to help him, pulling the many covers back so Sam can move more freely. He tries to keep his hands to himself but eventually there's no other choice than to touch Sam if he wants to help.
Sam is trembling like a leaf and a thin sheen of sweat is noticeable on his skin when Bucky touches him. His skin burns under his fingertips.
''Come on.'' Bucky urges. ''There's a nice bath waiting for you.''
A weak grin crawls on Sam's face, a cough rattling his chest momentarily.
''You trying to get me naked, James?''
Maybe. ''No.'' he grumbles, slowly moving to the bathroom to make sure Sam's legs can keep up. He's very unsteady and it reminds him of himself when he stepped on the ice.
''Look who's wobbly now, huh.'' Bucky laughs, carefully lowering Sam down so he can sit on the edge of the tub. He pinches Bucky's side in answer.
''Be nice to me. I'm sick.'' he mumbles. Normally Bucky would have pushed him in the tub for such a comment. Now he can only look at Sam's tired eyes and supress the urge to cuddle him.
Seriously, what the actual fuck is wrong with him?
He clears his throat and softly squeezes the back of Sam's neck. ''You'll be okay on your own for a while?'' Bucky hums when Sam nods in agreement, slightly doubtful about leaving Sam alone. But he also knows he can't stay in here while Sam takes a bath. Naked.
That would be weird.
Right?
Bucky turns off the tap when the tub is full enough. ''Just call for me if you need help, okay? I won't go very far.'' he presses before actually leaving when Sam agrees quietly.
While Sam takes a bath Bucky makes himself useful in the bedroom. He strips the bed and changes the sheets, throwing everything inside the washing machine. The dirty tissues that are scattered over the nightstand and ground are going in the trash.
Despite the chill outside he cracks open a window to let some air inside. The room smells a bit stale, like sickness, so he hopes the fresh air will take care of that. Lastly he fills a glass with water and cuts up an apple for Sam.
Since he's busy now anyway he decides to clear the kitchen table and the countertop, making sure everything is clean before he returns to the bedroom.
Sam slowly leaves the bathroom, clean joggers covering his long legs and a dark green sweater hugging his frame. His eyes are drooping with exhausting but he seems a bit better than before. His skin got a bit more colour instead of the paleness staining his cheeks from before.
He lets Sam crawl back into bed, his whole body sagging with relief when he touches the clean sheets. Bucky tries to be discreet about it but he can't fight the natural instinct to tuck Sam in. He lets him take a few sips of water and hands him a slice of apple, taking a seat at the edge of the bed as Sam chews slowly.
When he was younger he took care of Steve a lot. Before he got buff and healthy he was a skinny teenager who got sick a lot. Bucky got used to holding his hand through it, feeding him medicine and worrying.
Worrying about others is like second nature to him ever since.
To make sure he doesn't make Sam too uncomfortable he answers a few texts, laughing softly when he reads a text Wade sent him.
''What are you giggling about?'' Sam asks, nibbling on another apple piece.
Bucky snorts. ''Wade and Pete went out again yesterday. Apparently Pete kissed him so Wade had a mental breakdown.''
He loves the two of them together. They're not really putting any labels on what they have but they're happier since they started going out. Wade can't stop talking about Peter and Peter only wears a huge smile now a day. It's disgustingly cute.
''I'm already mentally preparing for the day they have sex. Pete will tell me every fucking sappy detail about it the day afterwards.'' Sam answers, his words slurring with exhaustion.
He laughs and nods in agreement. ''Maybe it'll give you a bit of comfort to know that I'll have to go through the same thing with Wade.''
Sam smiles tiredly, the apple piece almost falling from between his fingers. Bucky catches it before it can hit the sheets and places it back on the plate. ''Alright,'' he laughs. ''to bed with you.''
'''m not a child.'' Sam mumbles, eyes already closed.
''Sure. Whatever you say, Samuel.'' He laughs softly when Sam swats his hand in a quest of hitting him without actually opening his eyes to aim.
''Don't call me that.''
Bucky tucks the blanket closer around Sam's shoulders when he lays completely down, making sure he's shielded from the nipping cold.
''Tastes nasty, doesn't it? Your own medicine.'' he quips. Sam mumbles something uncomprehend before his breathing evens out and soft snores are coming from his stuffed nose.
Apparently he's exhausted because he doesn't even stir when Bucky smooths his hand over Sam's hair. His eyes flicker over his face, from the hazy lines around his eyes from all the laughing, the tiny freckles dusting over his nose if you know where to look, his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks and the small scar just below his hairline where he once got stitches.
Looking at the green sweater he's wearing and realising it's his.
Sam's wearing his sweater and suddenly it feels like Bucky's been sugar-punched.
He looks at Sam bundled up beneath the blankets with a red, stuffy nose, wearing his fucking sweater and it all clicks into place. Like the last puzzle piece makes everything complete after feeling confused for so long.
Falling for Sam Wilson was inevitable.