“Jesus Christ it’s cold,” Bucky complained as he stumbled into the apartment and slammed the door behind him.
Sam snickered from the kitchen where he was drinking a bottle of water. Bucky wrapped his arms around his waist, Sam flinching when Bucky put his hands under his shirt.
“Your hands are so cold,” Sam said as he tried to wiggle out of Bucky’s grip. “Can you let go now?”
“Nope,” Bucky said as he rested his head on Sam’s shoulder.
“Bucky,” Sam whined as he squirmed, Bucky still not letting go. “Please.”
“Only because you said please,” Bucky said with a smile as he untangled himself from Sam.
Sam took a breath and adjusted his shirt.
“You know, you’d look better without a shirt on,” Bucky said.
“I’d also look better not covered in bruises on my side,” Sam retorted.
“Since when are you hurt?” Bucky asked anxiously as he grabbed Sam’s shirt and lifted it. “When did this happen?”
“The other day, on the mission, remember?” Sam asked.
“I remember you said you were, and I quote ‘I’m fine, old man’. You never said you had bruises covering your side. Jesus,” Bucky said as he looked at the discolored bruises. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Sam said. “Just sore, nothing I can’t handle. Besides, I get more abuse from you.”
“Hey,” Bucky whined, Sam snickering.
Sam jumped slightly when he heard a boom of thunder. Bucky glanced outside and watched the rain hit the windows.
“It’s coming down hard now. I guess I came home just in time,” Bucky said before seeing Alpine run over to him. “Hey, Alpine. Not a fan of the storm?”
Bucky picked up his cat and looked at Sam, who was looking out the window.
“You okay?” Bucky asked as he stroked his cat.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Just paranoid we’re gonna lose power,” Sam said before flashing Bucky a smile.
God, Sam did not want Bucky to find out about his fear of storms. It seemed so stupid to him, and yet he was terrified of them. Ever since he was a little kid he’s been afraid of storms. Something just didn’t sit right with him.
“Hey, why don’t we watch a movie or something?” Bucky asked after noticing Sam’s hands shaking slightly.
“Um…s-sure,” Sam said as he nodded. “I’ll make the popcorn.”
——
“Is this that show your obsessed with again? Supernormal?” Sam asked as he walked into the living room and noticed the tv.
“Supernatural,” Bucky corrected. “And it’s a good show. I like it.”
“I’m glad you like it. But I don’t. Can you put on something else, please?” Sam asked.
“Do you even know what the show is about?” Bucky asked.
“It’s about two brothers looking for their dad,” Sam said.
“That’s basically the first season,” Bucky said.
“Have you seen the whole show?” Sam asked.
“Obviously,” Bucky said as he grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl.
“So how does it end?” Sam asked.
“Well Sam and Dean end up fighting God with a gay angel and a three year old,” Bucky said nonchalantly as he started eating the popcorn in his hand.
“I…” Sam trailed off. “No. Nope. Absolutely not. Too chaotic for me.”
“It’s basically just like a horror movie, just less than an hour. What’s the big deal? You like horror movies,” Bucky said.
“I like horror movies that make sense. Supernatural doesn’t make sense to me,” Sam said.
“Because you haven’t watched it,” Bucky said. “It only makes sense if you watch the show.”
“That can’t be true…can it?” Sam asked.
“I’m telling you. Trying to explain Supernatural is so awful like people get so confused, especially with the later seasons. Like it starts off fine with them looking for their dad and then boom, Gods evil,” Bucky said.
“My head hurts,” Sam said as he rubbed his eyes.
“Anyway, since you have an aversion to watching good tv shows,” Bucky said with a glare as he grabbed the tv remote. “What do you wanna watch?”
“Something that’ll get my mind off of the storm,” Sam mumbled.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bucky asked before the room went black. “Okay. No movie then since the powers out. What do you wanna do now? Card game?”
“What?” Sam asked anxiously as he got off the couch and looked around the room.
“Sam, hey, just breathe,” Bucky said as he realized Sam was getting a panic attack. “Hey, relax, I’m right here, I promise.”
Sam grabbed Bucky’s hands before leaning against the wall and sinking onto the floor. Bucky followed Sam’s movements and sat down in front of him.
“You hate storms,” Bucky said calmly.
“I’m scared of them,” Sam mumbled.
“Okay,” Bucky said without a care.
“You’re not…I don’t know, making fun of me?” Sam asked as his eyes watered slightly.
“No, dumbass. Why would I?” Bucky asked. “Sam, you do realize that I’m scared of spiders, right?”
“How could I forget? You tackled me off the dock and into the water after seeing a spider,” Sam said with a slight smile as he thought back to the memory. “Sarah still has the picture on her phone.”
“My point is that I’m afraid of spiders and you’re afraid of storms. There’s nothing wrong with either of those fears,” Bucky said as he continued holding Sam’s hands. “Dumbass, breathe for me, come on.”
“Can’t,” Sam said anxiously as his eyes watered.
“Yes, you can. Talk about something you like,” Bucky said. “Or hate.”
“I hate the color yellow,” Sam blurted out, Bucky staring at him weirdly. “What? I just really don’t like the color. It looks really bad, like really bad. Not much looks good in yellow, and it’s just a nothing color.”
“You hate yellow? Noted,” Bucky said. “What other colors do you hate?”
“That’s the only color I hate actually,” Sam said.
“I don’t like the color orange,” Bucky said with a smile. “Something about that color just…I don’t like it. I’m fine if it’s on like a pumpkin or something, but if it’s on walls or anything else, absolutely not.”
Sam smiled and looked at Bucky.
“Wanna move to the couch?” Bucky asked softly.
Sam nodded numbly. He slowly got off the floor, his legs half asleep, and stumbled over to the couch.
“Here you go,” Bucky said as he threw a blanket on top of Sam.
“Thanks for always being there for me, Bucky,” Sam said quietly before Bucky sat next to him, Alpine jumping up on the couch.
“Anytime, pigeon man,” Bucky said, Sam glaring at him.