Chapter 7
Suddenly it's all he can think about.
Every single thing reminds him of how deeply infatuated he is with Sam.
From the way he snorts when he laughs really loudly, to the way he always gives Bucky a hug when he returns back home from work. All Bucky can focus on is the soft smile constantly lingering on Sam's face, his sleep-rumpled face when he just woke up, the ability to make Bucky smile even if that's the last thing on his mind. He can't even jerk off in peace without his brain hinting about Sam.
The thing is, Bucky still hasn't really realised how it came to this.
He always hated Sam's guts, how did that change so fast? A big part of him is confused but there's also a small part that seems perfectly fine with everything going on. Like his whole world didn't make a sharp 360.
He's still trying to deal with everything going on inside his head.
By 'dealing with' he actually means 'acting like it isn't there'.
Over the days he grows more restless, irritation slowly boiling beneath his skin. He's angry for no reason at all. Angry at himself, for feelings that he doesn't want. Angry at Sam, for being the sweet, likeable person he is. Angry at the universe for doing this to him.
He's in denial, he knows he is.
Bucky can't help it. Realising he's growing feelings for Sam is so scary it makes him want to crawl away and hide. Letting someone come so close is terrifying because they get the chance to hurt him. They got a lot closer over the past few weeks but that's a whole other level op close.
Besides, Sam isn't even interested.
After everything they went through it's a miracle they're friends, let alone more. Bucky doesn't want more, no matter how bad his heart craves it.
It keeps him up at night. Which makes him even more cranky than he already is. He lashes out at his friends, even Steve. He argues with everyone who makes the mistake of asking him a simple question and he starts fights with Sam again because it feels safer that way.
Maybe Sam will grow tired of him and leave so Bucky can forget about his stupid feelings. When Sam leaves he can force his feelings away, stomp them down until nothing's left.
Unfortunately Sam doesn't leave. The only thing he keeps doing is make Bucky fall harder for him with every passing minute.
It builds until he snaps like a balloon popping.
He's curled up on the couch when it happens, eyes heavy with exhaustion and coffee mug between his hands. He doesn't even know how late it is but it's somewhere around three in the morning.
He feels exhausted. His head won't grant him any rest, constantly thinking about Sam on a loop. When he tries to think about something else his brain will automatically link it back to Sam. Peanut butter? Sam likes peanut butter. The colour yellow? Sam looks fucking gorgeous wearing yellow. Math? Sam's best subject in high-school.
''Buck?'' Speaking of the Devil.
He turns his head to look at Sam standing in the doorway to his bedroom. Sam looks so unbelievable soft, lingering sleep clinging to him like a blanket. His belly clenches with adoration which only makes him angry again. His emotions are all over the place.
''What?'' he asks, ignoring how pissed it sounds. Sam is either too tired to notice or he simply doesn't care.
''Why are you up? Are you okay?'' Sam slowly shuffles closer and Bucky needs to refrain from hitting him square in the face. He can't deal with this. Not with two hours of sleep beneath his belt and with the way he's feeling for the past few days.
''I'm fine.'' He turns back towards his coffee, staring angrily at it as if it's at fault for all of his problems. ''Go back to sleep.''
Sam seems to hesitate for a moment. His eyes burn in Bucky's skin, they always do. They burn their way inside and wrap around his heart, slowly peeling back every layer until Bucky's secrets start spilling.
He feels like a cornered animal when Sam carefully takes a step closer and he lashes out like one, too.
''What do you want, Wilson?'' Bucky spits. The younger man is obviously taken aback by the harshness of his words and maybe also how Bucky uses his last name instead of his first.
''Nothing,'' he murmurs, ''I just want to help.''
''I don't want your help.'' Bucky glares daggers at Sam, feeling safer when he takes a step back. Push back, don't let him get closer.
He suddenly looks so young standing there, visibly hurt by Bucky's harshness. His entire body aches with the need to pull him inside his arms and pull him close, protect him and hold him until he stops hurting. But he can't because Bucky is the one that's doing the hurting.
''Did you have a nightmare?'' Sam asks, the words stabbing him straight in the back. It's such a Sam thing to do, he always knows what to ask or how to help. He knows about Bucky's nightmares and he also knows how many sleepless nights he suffers because of them. Bucky feels like he's choking underneath Sam's sweet, understanding gaze.
The soaring pain inside his body snaps when he starts to realise that he's on the brink of letting Sam close. Too close. It would be so easy to nod his head and let Sam give him a cuddle but it'll only make his feelings so much worse. There's not a chance he'll get to push away the feelings for Sam is he lets him get close again.
''No, I didn't have a fucking nightmare.'' He realises he's screaming but he can't stop. All his heart wants is to pull in, hold close and love where his brain forces him to push away, shut out and ignore.
''Could you do me a favour and leave me the fuck alone?'' Sam takes another step back as if he'd been punched. ''I don't want to talk about it, especially not with you.''
Sam lingers for a beat longer as if he doesn't know what to do. There's obvious pain in his eyes as if he's having a battle within himself; stay or go. Eventually the latter wins. He presses his mouth in a thin line before turning and walking away.
Bucky's heart cracks when Sam softly closes his bedroom door.
**
The following days are terrible.
They don't talk because Bucky avoids Sam like the plague. He leaves early for work so they don't cross paths as Sam goes for his morning run. Sam tries to talk to him when he gets home, eying him carefully but never speaking up.
Bucky feels horrible about it but he knows this is for the best.
He can't look Sam in the eye without feeling like wanting to jump his bones. Everything he is craves for the other man, more and more with every passing day. The last thing he wants is pushing Sam away but he doesn't know what else to do.
Steve notices the tension between them because he's forced to. Always standing in the middle between them, not knowing what to do, feeling lost at what even happened. He tries not to interfere although Bucky sees him watching from a distance every time Sam and Bucky pass each other without a word.
He feels bad about the other night, he does. He regrets losing his cool because Sam only wanted to help, he never asked for the nasty things Bucky said to him. His feelings got hurt, Bucky knows, but he doesn't know how to apologize without laying out his heart on the table. Without saying; my feelings for you are changing and I'm terrified of getting hurt.
Bucky startles when his phone starts ringing, cutting through the thoughts that have been haunting his brain. For a moment he doesn't know where he is until he realises he's at work, busy with a new design of a koala. He should be doing that instead of worrying.
And, right. His phone rings.
He answers without checking who it is, picking up his stylus pen to continue drawing.
''Is this James Buchanan Barnes speaking?'' Bucky frowns and tilts the phone away from his ear to look at the number only to realise he doesn't recognises it. He presses the phone back to his ear again. ''It is.'' he confirms.
''Mr. Barnes this is Layla Jones from NYU Medical Centre. I'm calling in regards of Mr. Wilson? You're listed as his contact person in case of an emergency.''
His heart almost climbs out of his throat.
Everything stops spinning as he freezes to the spot. The worst things imaginable start flooding his brain; Sam covered in blood, laying on the cold ground with his eyes staring unseeing at the sky-
''Mr. Barnes?''
''Y-yeah, I'm-'' He stands up so quickly he almost stumbles over his chair, eyes wild as he searches for something without knowing what. ''What happened?'' Oh, God. He feels like he's going to be sick. Panic squeezes his stomach so hard his vision whites out for a second.
What if they tell him Sam got into an accident? That it was fatal, Sam never stood a chance against the impact. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and squats down, actually afraid he's going to pass out. He can't understand a single word the nurse is saying to him, only the blood rushing through his ears is noticeable.
Suddenly a familiar arm wraps around him, steadying him somewhat as the phone gets taken away from him. Steve's voice sounds so far away but his body is warm and comforting against his, grounding him somewhat as he starts to lose it.
If Sam's gone then the last thing they did was argue. Bucky pushed him away without explaining why. The last thing Sam would've remembered about him was how Bucky told him he didn't need him, how he didn't want to talk to him.
Steve must have ended the call because he pulls Bucky closer using both arms, his breath warm against his ear. ''Buck, you're panicking. Try taking a few deep breaths for me.'' He shakes his head, dark spots dancing through his vision the longer he fights for air. No matter how hard he tries there isn't enough air in the room. The pain in his chest grows as if someone ripped his heart away.
''Hey, listen to me. Sam is fine, he's alive, you hear me? Sam is okay.'' Relief floods through his veins and leaves him dizzy and shaky as his breathing finally starts to slow down. Sam is okay, he repeats it until the words start to settle.
His whole body shakes like a leaf when breathing becomes less painful but Steve doesn't comment on it. He simply squeezes Bucky's shoulder in sympathy before handing him his phone back.
''What happened?'' Bucky asks, wincing at how raspy his voice sounds. He presses a shaking hand against his chest in hopes it'll calm his heartbeat somewhat. His heart flutters restlessly beneath his palm as if it tries to escape his rib case.
''He got hit by a car when he crossed the street,'' Bucky closes his eyes again to fight off the nausea nipping at his stomach. ''but luckily they didn't hit him very hard, more like a hard shove down.''
Bucky clenches his jaw. ''How bad is it?''
''Nothing too serious.'' Steve immediately replies. ''Mainly a few bruises and he probably sprained his ankle. They're also taking pictures of his head to make sure he doesn't have a concussion but he was conscious and didn't seem dizzy or anything.''
He breathes out through his mouth as the information settles. It doesn't seem too bad indeed but he worries nevertheless. And then there's the fact Bucky is listed as Sam's first contact person.
Steve gently pulls at his arm. ''C'mon, I'll drive you to hospital.'' He waits until Bucky quietly agrees before standing up with a bit of help, his legs still unsteady, and together they leave.
They don't talk during the way there, Steve focussing on the road while Bucky bites away at his nails. Anxiety keeps clawing at his belly and his hands keep trembling despite knowing Sam is okay-ish. He knows but he'll feel better once he sees for himself.
Steve parks the car and together they make their way inside, Bucky immediately going for the front desk. A woman with grey eyes and blonde hair looks up when she notices him, a smile on her face. ''Can I help you gentlemen?''
''I got a call from your colleague, Mrs. Jones? I'm here for Samuel Wilson.'' The woman hums as she starts to look through her computer. ''Middle name?'' she asks, continuing typing when Bucky answers quickly. ''Thomas.''
Luckily she doesn't waste any more time. ''Fourth floor, room number six. You can take the elevator, that's the quickest way up.'' She gifts them a warm smile when they both thank her before rushing away.
The ride up takes forever and gives Bucky enough time to see Steve supress a smile. ''What?'' he asks, slightly irritated. Steve huffs out a soft laugh and shakes his head. ''Nothin', I just didn't know you knew Sam's whole name. Even I didn't know.'' He shoots Bucky a look that screams 'well?' so Bucky turns his head again and ignores him.
He's very mature like that.
When they step out on the right floor they sign in at the counter but Steve stops him before they can walk to Sam's room.
''You go ahead. Talk to him if he feels up for it, okay? I'll wait here.''
Bucky wants to refuse and beg him to come with but something holds him back. This is his chance to make things right, even if Sam doesn't want to talk to him. Maybe it's going to be difficult but he wants to try.
That's why he agrees. Steve sends him of with a confident smile and a pat on the back, making himself comfortable in the waiting room. Dread fills Bucky's belly the closer the gets to room six, worry coiling in his stomach. There are unlimited questions flashing through his head, a restless storm that refuses to lay down.
Everything quiets when he steps inside Sam's room.
The door is open so he doesn't bother knocking. His eyes immediately fall on Sam and suddenly it feels like the air gets punched from his chest. Sam is sitting up in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around his left ankle. A purple bruise is peeking out from underneath the white bandage and there's a small cut on his cheekbone. Overall he doesn't look like he got into an accident but it hurts nevertheless.
The nurse probing Sam's temple steps to the side and Sam's eyes find Bucky's.
A soft smile breaks out on his face and suddenly Bucky feels like crying. Despite how horrible Bucky has been treating him the past few days, Sam still smiles at him like he's happy to see him. Which he probably is, making it all the more painful.
''Hi, Buck.''
All his previous plans to keep Sam at a distance get thrown out the window. He can't do it anymore, no matter how hard he would try. To realise he could have lost Sam today made something click. Being honest and keeping Sam close is so much more important than try to keep his feelings safe.
The only thing he can do is hand them over to Sam and trust him not to break it into a million pieces.
''Hey.'' Without realising it he walks to the bed, completely ignoring the nurse who tells them she'll give them a minute. She closes the door on the way out, granting them some privacy. ''How are you feeling?''
Sam waves his hand in a casual gesture. ''Fine, I didn't even break anything.'' He rolls his eyes fondly. ''I'm sorry they called you away from work. I told them not to because it isn't even that bad but there was this really annoying doctor who-''
Bucky interrupts him by carefully thumbing over his cheekbone, a frown taking over his face. ''Don't do that.'' Sam looks up at him in confusion. ''I'm fucking relieved it isn't anything serious, Sam. I don't care if they'd called me just because you broke your toe, I would have still came here the minute they called.''
''Oh.'' Sam turns his face inwardly against Bucky's palm, unconsciously chasing the warmth of his skin. He looks a bit out of it, probably on some light painkillers that make him a bit woozy. It's not too bad but Bucky can see that he moves a bit slow and his brain seems to take its time.
''I didn't break my toe.'' Is what he eventually settles for, making Bucky laugh. ''I know.'' he points out, softly smoothing his thumb over Sam's temple. ''What about your ankle?''
''Oh.'' Sam repeats, looking at his own ankle. ''It's just sprained. They told me it'll probably take two weeks before I can properly walk again, as long as I take enough rest.''
Bucky hums. ''Good thing you're staying with me then, I'll make sure you get enough rest.'' He brushes his hand over Sam's head, his tummy clenching pleasantly with the way Sam looks up at him, a soft smile on his face.
''You gonna take care of me?'' Sam asks.
Bucky smiles. ''You know I will.''
It takes everything inside him not to bend forward just a little bit to kiss Sam.
Instead he clears his throat and retrieves his hand. ''I'm really sorry for how I acted a few nights ago.'' He swallows thickly as shame fills his chest simply by thinking about it.
Sam is as forgiving as always, taking Bucky's vibranium hand in his. ''Don't be so stupid.'' he comments, ''you were already forgiven.''
''But that doesn't make it okay.'' Bucky frowns, angry at himself. He goes willingly when Sam pulls him closer though, showing no resistance at all when Sam pulls him down on the edge of the bed. ''I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you.''
''You shouldn't have,'' Sam agrees, shrugging. ''but I understand. And you don't have to talk about it when you don't feel like it. I want to help you whenever I can, but you have to let me in first.''
Bucky nods in agreement and sighs deeply. All of his previous worries seem to pointless now with Sam in front of him, his eyes fond as they set on Bucky.
''I'm scared of getting hurt.'' he confesses, voice quiet despite the silence of the room. It's not the complete truth but it comes close. ''That's why I tried pushing you away, because it felt safer that way.''
Sam's eyes soften impossible more and his hand squeezes Bucky. ''Are you scared I'll just wake up one day and decide I don't want to be your friend anymore?''
I'm terrified I'm the only one who's falling in love.
I'm scared I'll tell you about how I feel and you'll turn me down.
I'm petrified you'll fall in love with someone else.
''Something like that.''
A hesitant smile pulls at his mouth as he tries to cover it up by shrugging. Sam shakes his head as if he can't believe what he's hearing.
''I won't tell you that will never happen because we both know that won't take your worries away.'' Sam starts, ''But I'm here, with you. And I promise you I'll prove to you I'm not going anywhere, okay?''
Bucky shrugs again. ''Life happens. People grow apart.''
''Sure.'' Sam agrees easily. ''But I'm not planning on leaving any time soon. We grew so much closer over the months, why would I throw that all away? I want to be close to you because I like you, Buck. That's not going to chance.''
Bucky takes a shaky breath and to his horror realises his eyes are wet. Every single insecurity pours from his core as he trusts Sam to hold him through it. He does, carefully sitting up straighter before pulling at Bucky's shirt.
''C'mere, you bionic staring machine.'' Bucky laughs wetly as he bends forward so Sam can wrap his arms around him, squeezing him tightly as they go.
''I'm sorry.'' he whispers.
Sam huffs out a small laugh against his head. ''Don't be. It's okay.''
With Sam holding him like this, softly humming 'everything's gonna be alright' in his ear as he gets himself together, is when he decides it's worth it to take the shot. The chance of getting his heart broken is present, sure, but it'll be worth it if it's at the hands of Sam.
**
Bucky lives up to his words.
Sam takes the next two weeks of from work so he can get all the rest he needs, spending most of his time sleeping or lounging on the couch. The painkillers make him very drowsy so he spends his days mostly sleeping during the first week. He's more clear-headed after the first week but still recovering.
Bucky spends all of his free time taking care of him; bringing him everything he needs, helping him move around the apartment when needed, running errands and call his doctor when he feels like Sam isn't healing fast enough.
He's a mother hen by heart and this only proves it. Steve doesn't even bat an eye anymore when Bucky rushes past him to get Sam a bowl of soup, never slowing down to talk to Steve. All of his attention is drawn to Sam and his recovery.
Taking care of Sam feels totally natural to him, easy like breathing. Sam doesn't complain although he makes sure Bucky knows he needs to take care of himself, too.
Halfway through the second week is a bad day for Sam.
Bucky notices his grumpy mood the second he wakes Sam up for a cup of tea, quietly watching the pain flash over his face. He doesn't say anything but it's clear he's hurting.
He lets Sam sleep for most of the day, occasionally peeking inside his bedroom to see if he needs anything. Maybe he lingers for a beat too long to watch Sam sleep; the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheek, a faint blush high on his cheekbones and small puffs of air leaving his mouth. It's too adorable to ignore.
After lunch Steve leaves to work and Bucky prepares a sandwich for Sam before quietly sneaking inside his room. Sam is still curled up underneath the blanket, snoring softly.
A small part of him feels guilty for waking up Sam when he's getting the rest he so hard needs, but he can't heal properly when he doesn't eat. Bucky carefully shakes Sam's shoulder and whispers his name.
Sam wakes up slowly, his head obviously heavy with lingering sleep and painkillers. It's a process Bucky saw a lot the past few days but never grows tired of. At first Sam's eyelids start to flutter, then he'll mumble something incoherent and his fingers will twitch before finally blinking his eyes open.
Bucky's heart stutters when Sam's eyes find him and he smiles a bit sleepy.
''Hi,'' Sam's voice croaks due to sleep as he blinks tiredly. ''How late is'sit?''
''A little past one. Time to get some food in you.'' Bucky waits patiently as Sam takes a deep breath and pushes himself upright, curling his non-injured leg beneath his body. He thanks Bucky when he hands him the sandwich before patting the bed, a quiet invitation for Bucky to sit down.
''How are you feeling?'' Bucky asks, crawling next to Sam on the bed. He watches as Sam chews and swallows before answering, shrugging weakly. ''Mostly tired. My ankle was killing me, kept me up all night.''
Bucky frowns. ''Why didn't you wake me up? We could've watched a movie together until you fell back asleep or something.''
Sam swallows another bite and rolls his eyes. ''You don't get enough hours of sleep during a regular night, I'm not taking away the hours you actually do get some rest.'' He sputters as he tries to come up with an excuse but finds none, eventually grumbling under his breath about Sam being a mother hen.
''You're one to talk.'' Sam laughs. ''Who was the one taking care of me for the past week?''
''Not me. I don't know what you're talking about.'' Bucky answers drily.
Sam snorts, grinning widely as he takes another bite from his sandwich. Bucky scoots closer, carefully pulling Sam's injured foot in his lap. ''Mind if I take a look?'' he asks, waiting until Sam shakes his head wordlessly.
He makes sure not to hurt Sam as he peels away the bandage. His ankle looks much better than before; the swelling went down a lot and his skin isn't so purple anymore. Bucky carefully runs his fingers over his ankle, keeping an eye on Sam.
When his fingers move to the side is when Sam hisses softly so Bucky pulls his hand back. ''Still painful?'' Sam nods. ''Not as much as last week though.''
''I'll get you some more painkillers after you've finished eating.'' Sam agrees quietly, keeping his foot still when Bucky wraps his ankle again. The bandage keeps him from jostling his ankle too much even when he's laying down.
After Sam's done eating and he has taken some more painkiller, Bucky forces him back under the blankets, tucking him in when he's comfortable. Bucky moves to sit up against the headboard, stretching his legs out beneath the blanket. They're quiet for a while as Sam shuffles closer to Bucky, his body searching for the warmth Bucky provides.
He starts scratching Sam's head gently, knowing it'll make him fall asleep faster. He always jokes about how Sam is secretly a giant cat, always searching for someone to cuddle him or scratch his back.
Bucky doesn't want to keep Sam from getting the sleep he so desperately needs, but there's a question nagging at the back of his head. It sits there since he got the call from the hospital about Sam, impossible to ignore.
''Sam?'' The other man hums but doesn't open his eyes, merely pressing closer so his forehead rests against Bucky's hip. The painkillers always make him more cuddly and soft so Bucky isn't surprised that Sam is slowly coming closer.
''You never told me you listed me as your first contact person in case of an emergency.''
He holds his breath as he waits, the question hanging between them. Sam doesn't seem bothered by it, especially not because Bucky keeps running his fingers over his scalp. His voice is drowsy when he answers.
''Are you mad at me for doing so?''
''Of course not.'' Bucky's answer comes straight away. ''I was just surprised.''
Sam hums softly and presses closer again. He doesn't open his eyes once as he throws one leg over Bucky's and wraps his arm over his hips. It's so domestic Bucky has a hard time keeping himself in check. He so desperately wants to lay down so he can pull Sam properly inside his arms and kiss him while he's at it.
He doesn't, forcing himself to keep his hands to himself aside from the one rubbing over Sam's hair.
''Why am I your first contact person, Sam?'' he whispers because he has to know. It's been bugging him ever since, he simply doesn't understand. Why would Sam note him down and since when has it been like that?
''Because I know you'll always come for me if I need you.''
Oh.
Bucky falls silent, no words coming to him that sound good enough. Because it's the truth. He'll always be there for Sam whenever he needs him. It's just as painful as it is endearing that Sam knows that, too. Over the months Sam must have been convinced that Bucky will always be there for him, even going so far to list him as his first contact person.
It means so much to Bucky that his chest feels a little tight.
Sam obviously doesn't find it that big a deal because he falls asleep before Bucky can do as much as confirm it. He starts snoring softly again, still pressed tightly against his side as Bucky keeps running his fingers over his head.
He stays where he is until his whole lower half goes numb from sitting in the same position for so long, allowing himself this moment with Sam as if it means something more than it actually is.