Awkward Closet situations
“James, it’s always a pleasure to see you! How has your week been?” Dr. Reinen asks pleasantly, two coffee cups on the table because Bucky felt like being grateful but in a way that says ‘This is casual because I won’t be so forward in saying thank you.’
“It’s been fine, nothing new.” He shrugs and he can tell it’s not the answer the doctor wants. “Nothing at all? It can be as simple as going to the market, texting a friend-“ she makes eye contact with him,”Even a hobby!”
“Uh... I texted someone.” He shifts awkwardly and Reinen perks up immediately. “Oh that’s lovely! How did it go?”
Does Bucky really seem that pathetic that she’s excited over a text? Then again, when was the last time he’s texted anyone?
“It was fine.. a buddy from— my partner I mean, Sam, he texted me.”
“Captain America? Did you text back?” They both know the answer when he looks at her face. “No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s.. he doesn’t actually like me, just pity and— stuff. He always thinks he’s responsible for everything with that shield now, even before it he was.. too much.” Maybe it’s the way he admits too much, clasping his hands together, a small smile before it disappears.
“Did he tell you all that?”
“No but—“
“Then why assume?” He doesn’t have an answer.
“James, not everyone hates you, not everyone pities you. There are good people out there that want to talk to you, to be your friend. You deserve good people.”
“You’re just saying things Doc.” He leans back in his seat and she purses her lips, “I am saying things that are true, I like you James.”
“You’re my therapist, you’re supposed to pretend you like me.” She shakes her head, “I’m not pretending am I?”
“Will you text him back?” She moves on and Bucky bites the inside of his cheek. “No.. I can’t—- he—“ he doesn’t know what he’s about to say so he shakes his head.
“Are you nervous about texting him James?”
“..Maybe.” She hums contemplating something, “when was the last time you saw Sam?”
“It was a mission a couple weeks back..” flashes of blood, Sam's frown, clenched fists, the smell of Chinese food.
“How did that go?”
“It was fine… I think he’s mad at me.” Reinen urges him to go on.
“I got hurt, and I didn’t let him help patch me up, he thinks I hurt myself more than if I had just let him help me. He doesn’t understand— it didn’t hurt, he wants too much from me and I can’t give it. I’m letting him down.” The words rush out as if he’s barely been holding them in, pushed over the top and Reinen has a way to make this all happen without Bucky realizing it.
“Did you hurt yourself more Bucky?”
“No.. maybe, I didn’t feel it.” He shrugs.
“Well I could understand why Sam was worried, seeing a friend hurting is never easy when you can help out. It’s hard to open up, I understand that James but sometimes not everything has to be so hard, not everything has to be a fight. It can be a helping hand.”
“.. I guess, I should’ve just waited.”
“So why didn’t you?”
The same exact words Sam had said to him, So why didn’t you?
He doesn’t want to answer and his therapist doesn’t pry. “Okay, if you’re feeling up to it let’s circle back to the other thing you’ve said, you said Sam wants too much from you, what did you mean by that?”
“He looks at me like— like I can help. Like I can make things better. Wants me to visit and spend time with his family even though he knows, he knows and I— he knows. I can’t be good, or gentle. He has nephews. What if I—- he would never forgive me.”
“You’re scared.” She says face in such sadness he hates it. He clenched his jaw. She reaches out, placing a hand on his metal one.
“You’re not a monster James. You’re not an animal either. Look at how far you’ve come, you’re your own person.”
“So why doesn’t it feel like it?” A desperate whisper.
“Because the people who did this to you made sure you weren’t. They’re gone now, you’re free. The only thing that can stop you is yourself. You can be good, you are good whether you want to believe it or not and Sam knows this.. Will you try to text him back?”
He nods and she smiles, he gets up rubbing his nose and holding himself together.
“You’ll be okay James.” And Bucky wants to believe it so bad.
He can hear the neighbors upstairs argue distantly and he’s too tired to question why they’re also up at 5am. Some birds chirp outside his window just now waking up and a clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence.
He sighs giving up on trying to get any sleep before he flips over and grabs his phone from beside him. The light illuminating his face and making him squint against the contrast.
He goes to his messages, chewing on his lip before clicking Sam's icon. His fingers hovering over the text unsure if he should be doing this.
The last text Sam had sent him was two days ago, a picture of a dead fish on the dock and a follow up text saying “Love the view here” it makes Bucky smile and feel guilty all the same.
5:03 Am
Me: Wow I am missing out in Brooklyn.
He clicks send before he can back out and clutches his phone tightly to his chest as he stares at the ceiling. Is Sam even up at this time? Probably not, gosh Bucky is such an idiot. Maybe he can still delete it?
He grabs his phone back up, holding the message and clicking the trash can icon just as the little seen sign shows up.
“Fuck!” A loud bang comes from his left neighbor, he runs a hand through his hair, embarrassed because Sam had definitely seen that.
5:04 Am
Sam: Oh look who decided to come back from the dead!
Sam: HEY! I saw that 🤨
Me: I don’t know what you mean, stop texting me at 5 am.
He feels like a schoolgirl, watching the typing dots pop up and disappear with a fast beating heart.
Sam: FIRST OF ALL! It’s 4 am in Louisiana, and SECOND! You can’t pin this on me, I know what I saw.
Me: sorry
Then..
5:07 Am
Me: Did I wake you?
Sam: Nah man, I was already up for my morning run 💪
Me: Who goes running at 4 am? And why would you send me an arm emoticon if you’re going running?
Sam: I do unlike some lazy people 😒 and you wouldn’t understand old man PS they’re called EMOJIS 🏃♂️
He grins into his hand trying to fight the urge to throw his phone into the wall so he gets rid of the flutters in his stomach.
5:11 Am
Sam: What are YOU doing anyway?”
Me: I got up early.
Sam: Yeah and I was born yesterday, Buck.
Sam: GO TO SLEEP!
Me: I don’t think yelling works over text.
Sam: I can call and yell instead.
Me: no thanks.
Sam: Rude! See if I ever invite you down here again 🤨
Me: have a nice run flappy bird
Sam: goodnight Old man👴
Bucky shuts the phone off with a sigh, that wasn’t so… bad? It was actually nice just talking to Sam casually. Even if it made him feel like he was about to throw up.
Maybe.. maybe Dr. Reinen isn’t wrong. He closes his eyes and sleep comes easy for once.
“Shit, deadend!” Sam pants as they come to halt and Bucky feels like cursing whatever god is out there because there’s not even a window for an escape or any rooms to hide in.
“You just had to blow our cover!” Bucky hisses at Sam trying his best to lower his voice as he can hear the thundering of feet. He pulls off the stupid masquerade mask he has on and tries not to feel constricted in these stupid fancy waiter clothes.
“Wha— mine?! Excuse me you’re the one who can’t act for shit, I pulled your sorry ass out of there before a bullet ended up in your skull!” Sam quips back and Bucky steps closer to the man, “Oh bullshit, I was doing fine and—-“
“I hear something! Down there!”
They both whip their heads down the hall cursing, Bucky takes a look to the side of them and spots a small storage closet. Sam can see the exact moment Bucky comes up with the idea, his eyes comically wide and mouth open in protest.
“Oh hell no! Bucky I am not—-'' Bucky ignores his complaining, grabbing his tie and dragging them both into the small closet just as footsteps finally reach them. He covers Sams mouth firmly, cutting the man off and too aware of his hot breath against his skin.
It’ll be a blessing if the men decided not to check inside here.
“Should we check the closet?” A muffled voice says and his heart spikes.
“Nah, way too small to fit anyone, let’s head back and search the lower basement.” Another one says and Bucky could actually cry tears of joy right now. He finally removes his hand from Sam's face and he lets out a relieved sigh.
Once the footsteps fade he’s aware of just how close he and Sam are, if that can be even used to describe it. They’re literally pressed against each other, Bucky's hands perched up on either side of Sam's head trying to lean away as much as possible but that’s hard to do when he’s plastered against a wall in a tiny closet.
It doesn’t help that Sam looks so good. Seriously, what was Torres thinking sending them on this mission? Bucky doesn’t do fancy balls, and he certainly can’t handle Sam in a deep red suit with a golden mask.
“Please tell me you got the drive.” He mutters to the side of Sam's face and he feels the man shudder but writes it off as his imagination.
“Yeah of course, now get off of me you cyborg, get me out of this damn closet.” Bucky rolls his eyes, muttering a small “Drama queen.” before pulling at the handle.
He pulls once, twice.
“…uh Sam..”
“What?” When he doesn’t get a reply he thunks his head against Bucky's metal shoulder. “Please don’t tell me it’s locked.” He groans, muffled and Bucky feels hot.
“I could bust the door down?” He suggests and feels Sam shake his head, “Nah, too loud, too risky, we can’t lose the drive we have. I’ll contact Redwing.”
“Aw I was hoping they broke that little bastard.” Bucky says grinning and Sam’s elbow jams into his stomach.
“Oof!”
“Whoops, sorry my hand slipped.” There’s a shit-eating grin on his face though and no sign of remorse. He taps a few buttons on his watch and lets out a sigh.
“He’s coming, but he’ll have to navigate the vents so it’ll take a while.”
“This is still all your fault.” Bucky decides to say, “My fault?! You’re the one who dragged us into this closet!” He cries out.
“Would you rather have been roadkill?” Bucky tilts his face, long hair pooling in front of him and he can see all the details of Sam up this close.
When they fall into silence and the adrenaline has worn off, Bucky is too aware of it all. The way Sam's chest presses against his own, the man's leg jammed between his both and his face against Bucky's shoulder. Hot breath against his neck, not to mention that Sam will not quit squirming.
“Stop it.” He grunts out the next time Sam adjusts, rubbing his leg against Buckys without realizing it. “Oh well excuse me, for trying to be a little comfortable here.” The man quips sarcastically and almost as if to antagonize Bucky again, he shifts. Bucky lets out a quick breath, his head pressing against the wall as he lets out a small whimper.
“Uh Buck? Are you hurt?” Sam's sudden humor disappears, replaced with concern, Bucky wants to punch his face in.
“Shutup.” He says quietly trying to calm himself but Sam won’t leave it alone, “Hey I’m being serious! What’s wrong—“
“Sam.” He says raggedly and It shuts his partner up.
“Quit. Moving.”
“What— wh—“ Sam suddenly stops in the middle of his sentence and Bucky screws his eyes shut. This sucks.
“Oh.” Oh is damn right. He wonders if this situation is more embarrassing for him or Sam.
“Don’t make it weird.” Bucky says strained, definitely more embarrassing for him.
“That’s kinda hard to do— I mean this is a.. weird situation man.” Bucky hates that this is the man he’s infatuated with, also the man he’s stuck in a closet with… with a problem.
“Yeah well it’s your fault in the first place.” He hisses and notices a second too late just how that sounds.
“—i mean,” he backtracks, “I don’t mean like— it’s just the— I don’t mean it like— fuck.” His face must be bright red and Bucky’s a little glad for the dim room..
Sam bursts out laughing instead, hand trying to muffle the sound but it’s useless with Bucky so close, “Wow this is really not your day huh? And Steve said you were smooth and suave but it looks like you’re a babbling virgin at the moment.” Sam pokes fun at him and then adds,
“You nervous fella?” It’s clearly sarcastic. Clearly, with Sam trying to imitate a Brooklyn accent but his voice is low and deep. He takes in a quiet inhale and hopes Sam doesn’t notice, but he drops his head onto the man's shoulder rather than the wall now.
“Shutup, don’t call me that.”
“The virgin or the fella part?” Sam questions.
“Both.” He grunts, “Nah I think I’ll keep the virgin part.. after all look who just popped a—“ Sam says and Bucky hates the way his body is reacting, it’s not getting any better.
“Sam I swear to god do not let me knock you out right now.” It’s a false threat and they both know it by the sounds of Sam snickering. “Alright, alright I won’t make fun of you buddy…” and then he adds, “for now.”
“Just be quiet, it’ll— it’ll go away eventually.”
Sam obliges but it does in fact not go away. It’s so embarrassing Bucky wants to die but Sam doesn’t say anything about it.
“Oh hey what happened to your mask?” Sam speaks up.
“That’s the thing you’re concerned about right now? Took it off, looked stupid.”
“Hey! I think I look pretty damn good in mine.” Sam protests and Bucky huffs a laugh, “Only in your dreams Cap.” And he doesn’t even say anything about how Bucky hasn’t been able to take his eyes off Sam. Sam who’s dressed in fancy clothes and a stupid mask that makes his eyes much more noticeable.
Finally Redwing makes it to them, lasering the doors handle off and they both stumble outside in a hurry.
“Oh sweet Jesus, I never knew air could smell so good.” Sam whispers dramatically and Bucky rolls his eyes fondly while tying his blazer around his waist.
“Oh ha ha, how funny Cap.”
They get to the hotel in awkward fashion after giving the drive to Torres, hoping it could finally shut down a string of human trafficking operations that operate under masquerade balls and charity’s. He tries not to look embarrassed when Joaquin questions him about his blazer around the waist.
“Nothing— felt hot.” He grunts out and Sam laughs, “Too hot?” he hisses at Sam to shut up with a red face.
Once they get to their room he can’t explain the relief, his uh.. situation still hasn’t gone away which has him feeling a bit ashamed but it’s not his fault okay?! It’s just been a while since he’s done anything. Which might not be healthy but he doesn’t really care. Much.
Sam chucks his tie and mask off, flopping down on the bed with a sigh, Bucky trudges over to the fridge and finds two bottles of water inside. He chucks one to Sam and is a bit disappointed that it doesn’t hit him in the face before downing the other.
“You aren’t gonna take care of that?” His partner speaks up and Bucky turns towards him confused.
“Huh?” Sam gestures to his jacket and he’s never wanted anything more than to vibrate through the floor at this moment.
“W- what are you expecting a show Wilson?” He crosses his arms defensively.
“Ha! Only in your dreams Barnes but seriously… it doesn’t hurt?” Sam sits up and Bucky leans against the wall. “No.. it’s fine, it’ll go away.” Sam raises an eyebrow.
“Really? Didn’t you say that when we were stuck in the closet?” His blush flares up again.
“It’s none of your business.” He doesn’t make eye contact with the man on the bed.
“I dunno— kinda made it my business when you—“
“Alright! Alright! Shut Up, I’ll take a shower okay!” He yells and makes a quick escape into the bathroom while Sam wolf whistles.
“Enjoy yourself Cyborg!”
“I’ll strangle you in your sleep Wilson!”
fanart I drew:
https://postimg.cc/gallery/yJjW4c4