“Wilson.” Sam answered his phone without paying attention to the caller ID. It wasn’t his work cell, so he figured he didn’t have to worry too much about who was on the other end.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Bucky asked, in lieu of greeting him, and Sam had to resist the urge to laugh.
Bucky had been not so subtly hinting that he wanted Sam to come with him on this assignment since he’d been told about it earlier that week, but this was the first time he had bitten the bullet and flat out asked.
“Am I sure I want to stay home this weekend instead of staking out a bunch of homegrown terrorists who, luckily, don’t seem to know a fuse from a hole in the wall?” He replied, sarcastically. “Umm yeah.”
Bucky sighed. “Come on Wilson, four eyes are better than two.”
“True.” Sam adjusted the phone and sunk a little deeper into his couch. “But since you could probably literally do this job half asleep and with your left arm tied behind your back, I don’t think my presence is necessary.”
“See, I’m overqualified,” Bucky shot back. “Send the kid; he could use a little practice being stealthy.”
Sam snorted. “Since you call at least half the team that, I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”
“I mean—
“I don’t really need you to be more specific,” Sam cut in, and gave a sigh of his own. “You know that’s why you got the job in the first place - everyone else is otherwise occupied, and it’s my first weekend off since,” he paused, thinking a moment, then shook his head, “hell, God only knows when.”
“I know,” Bucky said, starting to feel a little guilty.
“I know you know,” Sam said, frowning even though Bucky couldn’t see him. “So what’s the deal? I know you’re not gonna miss me that much,” he joked.
And Bucky said a silent thanks to God that Sam couldn’t see just how hard he blushed at that, because as ridiculous as it was, considering Bucky was scheduled to be gone for all of two days, he was going to miss Sam. Hell, he already missed Sam and he wasn’t even out of Louisiana yet.
But then, this past year he always missed Sam when they spent any time apart - it was the reason he’d sold his apartment in Brooklyn and moved down to Louisiana the moment he thought he could do it without being too obvious. Sure, he told anyone who asked that he’d bought the little shotgun house down the road from Sarah because it didn’t make any sense for him to live a thousand miles away from the person whose back he was supposed to be watching, but really he would have found his way to Delacroix eventually even if Sam had decided to retire the day after he defeated the Flag Smashers.
He would have found his way to Sam’s side no matter what. It was like Sam had him in his thrall. Bucky couldn’t have stayed away even if he wanted to.
“Besides,” Sam continued, completely unaware of the mushy thoughts currently running through Bucky’s head. “If we’re both in Florida, who’s gonna check up on Alpine for you?”
“Sarah?” He tried.
“Yeah, right.” Sam laughed. “Sarah likes you, sure, but don’t get it twisted; she’s not about to go cater to your finicky ass cat.”
“You’re willing to do it,” he replied, voice just this shy of being sassy.
Sam shrugged. “Guess that means I like you more than her.”
And if Bucky was blushing a moment ago, his face was downright on fire then. Something about Sam’s tone… it almost sounded like flirting, but that couldn’t be…
Could it?
“Anyway,” Sam went on before Bucky could even begin to formulate a reply that wouldn’t betray his complete lack of chill. “You go do your thing, I’ll keep an eye on the hellcat, and the next two days will be over before you know it, okay?”
“Okay,” Bucky said, reluctantly. Really, he wanted to keep trying to get Sam to accompany him, but he didn’t want to make it weirder than he probably already had.
“Talk to you later, Wilson.”
“Later, man.”
🐱🐱🐱🐱
Sam wasn’t in the door five seconds before Alpine was scrambling around his feet, paws batting at his shoestrings, trying to draw the tip of one into her mouth.
“Hey, girl,” Sam greeted, and crouched down to pet her.
But, just like she always did, the moment Sam actually tried to give her the attention she seemed to crave, Alpine practically flounced away from him and leapt onto the couch. Then she turned around three times, gave a purr that sounded more like a growl than it should’ve, and stared at Sam wearing what he could only describe as an unimpressed expression.
“Leave it to Barnes to adopt the cat version of himself,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head, as he sat his keys on the mantle and headed in her direction on his way to the kitchen.
“Pretty and grumpy just like your daddy, huh girl?” He added, pausing long enough to scratch the top of her head gently, before going off in search of her food.
Sam’s words didn’t get much of a reaction from Alpine, but a few states away, in a nondescript black sedan in Florida, Bucky almost dropped the tablet he was holding.
The world’s most boring criminals were still asleep; their home dark, the bugs Bucky planted around the place the moment he’d arrived showed no activity and let him know that the house was silent. However, Bucky had been up for a while. Even though he was sleeping better these days, his internal clock still woke him up at 6:00 am every morning, and that day was no different. So, even though he couldn’t be there to do it in person, Bucky had decided to start his day the way he always did: by checking on his baby girl.
Now, Bucky was getting better at trusting people, but old habits die hard and he wouldn’t exactly put it past the government to be keeping tabs on him even if he was living in Louisiana and his pardon was now officially strings-less, so he’d decided to set up his own surveillance in his home. If somebody came snooping, he wanted to catch them, and that’s why his entire house was outfitted with what were basically the Cadillac of nanny cams, which is how he was able to look in on (and listen to) Alpine… and it’s also how he was able to hear Sam call him pretty.
He hadn’t expected to see Sam at his place so bright and early. Yeah, they hadn’t picked any particular times for Sam to come over - they had just settled on once in the morning and once in the evening - but, still, he knew Sam liked to go running first thing. Bucky didn’t think he’d be over that early; it wasn’t like he had pulled up the video feed intending to spy on his crush.
Either way, maybe he should have powered down his iPad when he saw Sam walk in, for boundaries sake, but when Bucky saw Alpine run up and go for Sam’s shoestrings like she always did, it brought a smile to his face (like it always did), and he found himself watching their interactions. He heard Sam’s sarcastic (but correct) comment about him finding the cat version of himself. And then he heard Sam call his baby “pretty and grumpy”… just like her daddy?
Sam called me pretty, Bucky thought, a tad hysterically, as he stared down at the tablet without really seeing anything that was happening. Sam was currently pouring food into Alpine’s dish, but the screen might as well have been black as far as Bucky was concerned because his brain couldn’t process anything except: Sam called me pretty.
He said I’m pretty, so he must think I’m pretty… right? Pretty like someone thinks flowers are pretty, or pretty like he’s attracted to me?
Bucky’s thoughts were running a mile a minute. Saying he was flustered would’ve been an understatement; Bucky was actually freaking the fuck out, because, see, he thought Sam was pretty too. Hell, he thought Sam was gorgeous, inside and out. Sam Wilson was the best man - the best person - he knew. Period. And Bucky had been nursing an almost embarrassingly overwhelming crush on the man for almost a year.
It’d started with a simmering attraction to Sam back when they’d been tracking the Flag Smashers. Admittedly, Sam had been working his nerves back then, but he’d looked so good doing it. Sure, Bucky would’ve rather choked than admitted that that’s when he’d started finding his almost-partner appealing, especially given how terrible he felt about how he’d behaved towards Sam during that time, (because, frankly, he didn’t think he deserved to even like Sam then since he’d been such a shit to the guy) but that’s definitely when his thing for Sam had begun.
By the end of their mission Bucky was so gone that he was fixing boats and begging people, who had every right to never speak to him again, to design suits. Five minutes after that he was living down the road from Sam.
So, yeah, the idea that the man of his dreams thought he was pretty - the possibility that the man he wanted maybe wanted him too, was fucking Bucky up just a little bit.
Should he say something to Sam about what he heard? Should he pretend it never happened? For all he knew, Sam could’ve just been talking. It was an offhand comment, not a declaration of love. Maybe it didn’t mean anything?
Maybe it does though. Maybe it does.
Bucky took a deep breath and forced himself to refocus on the tablet. He looked just in time to see Sam giving Alpine’s head a quick pat, before grabbing his keys and going out the door.
Shit , he thought. What if he said something else and I missed it while I was freaking out?
Bucky’s thoughts started to spiral again, but the sudden beeping of his work tablet brought him back to the present. He glanced over to the passenger seat where he’d laid it, and saw that the most pathetic gang in America were finally up and milling about.
Bucky sighed. His not-yet-even-a-relationship problems were going to have to wait. As much as he would’ve liked to just sit there all day and think about what he’d heard Sam say, he did actually have a job to do.
But as soon as Bucky was done there - as soon as he was back home - he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t be thinking about anything else for the foreseeable future.
🐱🐱🐱🐱
“Trouble in paradise?” Joaquin joked, and then almost choked on his laugh when Bucky turned his signature death glare on him.
“What?”
“Ummm… I,” he cleared his throat, and started to answer. Apparently he had a death wish. “I just noticed that you’ve been more quiet than usual” - which was saying something, because Bucky was hard pressed to say more than ten words to a non-Wilson on a good day - “and the staring is more…” he trailed off, grimacing, “obvious too.” And angry looking, he added silently.
“What staring?” Bucky asked, almost impressed with the man’s nerve, before turning his attention back to Sam.
They were watching him run through some drills with the wings. Truthfully, Bucky didn’t need to be there. Joaquin was around, like he always was these days, trying to suck up every bit of superheroing knowledge Sam had, but Bucky could’ve left an hour earlier when they’d finished going over the report Hill had sent Sam that morning. However, since he’d gotten back in town a week ago, Bucky had been more reluctant to leave Sam’s presence than usual. He had been hanging around trying to catch a glimpse of the Sam he’d observed catsitting - the Sam who thought he was pretty.
But Sam had been his usual friendly joking self. The only thing was, now Bucky spent half the time wondering if the comments Sam made were friendly comments or flirty comments. Now that he thought about it, a lot of the stuff Sam said did sound like flirting. But was it real flirting, or the type of flirting Sam did with the cashier at Hook’s Pharmacy? Bucky honestly couldn’t tell.
“The staring you’re doing right now,” Joaquin said matter-of-factly, and Bucky’s frown deepened. “I mean, you’re always looking at Sam, but lately it’s been—
“What?” Bucky interrupted. “It’s been what ?”
And, nope. One look at Bucky’s narrowed eyes, and Joaquin immediately regretted opening his mouth in the first place. A super soldier’s romantic troubles were above his pay grade.
“Nothin’, man,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry. You and Sam’s relationship really isn’t any of my business. I shouldn’t have—
“And by ‘relationship’ you mean?” Bucky cut in again, this time looking more curious than murder-y.
His nose scrunched up, before answering, “Uhh that you two are involved… romantically.”
Bucky blinked. “You think we’re together - like together together? You think Sam likes me?”
Joaquin probably hadn’t said the word “duh” since he was about twelve years old, but it was certainly on the tip of his tongue right then. Sure, he knew Cap and Bucky thought they were being lowkey or something, but they were about as subtle as a sledgehammer when it came to how they felt about each other. He just figured they didn’t like to discuss their private lives at work, but everyone knew they were together, and he’d assumed Sam and Bucky knew that they all knew.
“Yeah…” he drawled, nodding slowly. “Of course.”
“Of course,” Bucky repeated, talking more to himself than Joaquin. “Of course.”
Of course he’s been flirting for real, he thought, and a ridiculous grin spread across his face. Of course he likes me - even Joaquin can see it.
The former Winter Soldier had just gone from staby to smiley in about sixty seconds and Joaquin didn’t know what to make of it.
“Umm Bucky—
“Thanks. You can go now,” Bucky cut him off again, and then took off in Sam’s direction without another word.
Joaquin watched him for a moment, then shook his head. So damn far above my pay grade, he thought, as he turned around and headed for his car.
Sam noticed Joaquin nearing the driveway and Bucky marching towards him and paused his flying to hover in the air.
He sighed. Bucky had been on one all week. No he hadn’t been particularly angry or difficult, but he’d certainly been more tense than usual and had kept looking at Sam like he wanted to say something. Sam had wanted to tell him to spit it out more than once, but he’d kept his mouth shut. This wasn’t a year ago; Sam knew Bucky would talk to him about whatever was going on when he was ready. His partner always needed to stew for a minute before he’d share whatever thing had crawled up his ass.
Given Joaquin’s abrupt departure and the weirdly determined look on Bucky’s face, he guessed Bucky was ready to share now, so he lowered himself down to the ground.
“Barnes,” he called, retracting the wings. “What’s going—
“I think you’re pretty too, Wilson,” Bucky said, stopping right in front of Sam, leaving barely six inches between them.
“Wha—
“I think you’re pretty, and kind, and smart, even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes,” he added, laughing lightly before straightening up to stare into Sam’s eyes.
“I think you’re the best leader the Avengers could ask for,” he continued, and his voice was so sincere that Sam felt his eyes start to burn.
“I think we make a great team professionally.” He took a step closer, closing the small distance between them. “And I think we could make a great team personally.”
“I just…” Bucky reached out and placed a hand on each of Sam’s hips. “I just… I really want to be with you, Sam, and I really hope you want to be with me too.”
For once, Sam was the speechless one. Sure, he liked Bucky, and he had suspected that Bucky liked him too. (Because, really, Bucky having a thing for him was the only logical reason for the guy’s behavior half the time.) But an out of the blue romantic declaration from Barnes at 5:00pm on a random ass Saturday afternoon had not been something Sam saw coming.
However, it was a pleasant surprise.
Sam smirked. “So, you wanna be with me huh Barnes?” He asked, and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck.
Bucky had been starting to look almost comically nervous while he waited for Sam to speak, but Sam’s gesture had him smiling.
“Yup.”
“Good.” Sam nodded. “Because I want to be with you too.”
That was all it took for Bucky to do what he had wanted to do since he’d stepped on Sam’s boat all those months ago - he kissed him.
It was soft and sweet, just a gentle brushing of the lips, but it felt like so much more.
It felt like a promise of things to come.
Yup, Bucky finally had what he’d been desiring for months, and it was all thanks to some incredibly good timing and a disgruntled little cat. Go figure.
The end.