The air is muggy, the humidity settling to the ground as night creeps in. Sam stands a bit aways on the dock attached to the property, with AJ and Cass. Their silhouettes stand starkly against the muted colors of the sunset.
“Nice night, isn’t it.”
Bucky looks up towards Sarah- Sam’s Sarah, not Steve’s- and stops fiddling with his sleeves. “It’s, uh, a bit more buggy than I’m used to.”
Sarah chuckles as she watches Bucky abandon the effort to pull his shirt over his bare wrist, and instead begins to swat away mosquitoes with his prosthetic arm. “Well, you get used to it, livin’ near the water your whole life. It does help to wear long sleeves, though. None of that three-quarters nonsense.”
There’s an indignant look on Bucky's face as he replies, “Tell that to your brother. It’s his shirt I’m borrowing.”
Sarah hums. “Is that so? Where’s all this leather bad-boy getup I’ve heard Sam complain about?”
Another bug passes right by Bucky’s nose, and he grumbles.
There’s something cute about the pout that forms on the soldier’s face. Not that Sarah knows Bucky well (though from what Sam’s told her, ranting about how Bucky never answers his texts, she might know him better than most ever will), but it’s obvious he’s not the most… expressive. She doesn’t know the full extent of what the man has been through- she doubts anyone but Bucky would- but it’s obvious his life has been anything but easy.
So it’s refreshing, in a way, to see this war-hardened soldier have a face graced with something so immature as a pout. All for some mosquitoes flying by.
She’s lost in her thoughts, so she’s caught off guard when Bucky loudly claps his hands together, trapping a bug between his digits. She flinches at the noise.
He’s quick to apologize. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
There’s a look in his eyes that she can’t read; her brother would be more adept at interpreting it, since he’s bragged to her these past few days that he’s become fluent in robot. Regardless, though, it’s not a happy look by any means, and she knows well enough that he shouldn’t dwell on whatever he’s thinking.
“Nah, it’s good.” She flashes him a trademarked Wilson smile, one that foretells some sort of bad joke or stupid comment meant to ease the tension. “Those bugs really have it comin’. They’ve never had to face off against a vibranium arm before.”
Bucky studies his hand. It’s silent for a few moments, not exactly awkward, but a pregnant pause all the same.
“I usually wear gloves.”
She fixes him with a strange expression, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, does that protect against those giant city rats in the sewers? I’m sure those are more of a problem in Brooklyn than these dumb bugs.”
Sarah prides herself on her ability to make Bucky chuckle, if only slightly. He turns to look at her.
“No, it doesn’t protect against those.” He’s silent again for a second, and Sarah’s finally starting to get why Sam calls him a cyborg. “It does protect against stares, though.”
Ah, so that’s what that kicked puppy dog look was about. Poor man’s still concerned about his metal arm, even though Sarah knows he heard AJ and Cass raving about how awesome it was.
(There’s obviously some more deep-rooted issues there, one’s that she shouldn’t even think of touching, but it doesn't hurt to reassure him.)
“Well you don’t have anything to hide here.”
And damn. Sarah could pinpoint the exact moment Bucky’s eyes shift towards the dock, looking out at Sam and the boys. Those steel blue eyes trap so much emotion behind them, but a little bit seems to break free as they reflect her brother’s figure against the pinkened sky.
A small smile forms on his face, and she doubts the man even realizes.
“I know.”
Once again a blanket of silence rolls over the pair, but this time it’s more comfortable. Comfortable, but still too quiet for Sarah’s liking. She doesn’t know whether to pity Sam or envy him for spending so much time with this brooding man. After all, silence can be nice after growing up in a house with such a… hectic family, being the only way to put it. Sure, it was just her and Sam, but it was never really just her and Sam. There was always ‘the neighbor’s kids’ or ‘mom’s friend Paul’ or ‘just some teens I saw playin’ in the street who looked like they needed a good meal.’ As she told Sam, their parents were just like that. They were just good people.
She wonders what Bucky’s family was like.
She wonders if he even remembers them.
It’s not her place to ask, though, so she doesn’t. Instead, she finds herself tiring of the silence, and itches to gain at least some insight into the man her brother claims to have definitely not befriended. “So, you plannin’ on staying for a while?”
Bucky flashes her a wide smile before replying. “Is that an invitation?” He asks, voice soft and gravelly, and all sorts of seductive in a way that seems effortless.
Their eyes lock, and there’s a glint of mischief on his face before he tilts his head slightly-
...And winks at her. Winks. At. Her. And god, does Sarah know she has to stop this right now before this man continues to make a fool of himself. He’s certainly charming, and witty to boot, but he’s got to know he’s barking up the wrong tree.
“You can stop with the fake flirting. I ain’t like those dames you used to charm in the forties.”
Bucky looks at her, and despite what she said, those piercing eyes make her face heat up slightly. “And here I thought I was making you drool all over me.” He replies dryly, shooting her a wry grin.
If Sarah’s honest with herself, had she met Bucky somewhere normal, like in town or at a shop, she could’ve seen something going on between them. Hell, she could totally see him being the most respectful ladies’ man back in the day. But... well. Bucky’s anything but normal now. And that’s a good thing, just maybe not one she’s equipped to handle. Someone else clearly can and has, though.
(And even if Sam will never admit it aloud, they’ve always had the same taste in guys-)
“I’m joking,” he says, after she’s been properly flustered, “It’s fun to see Sam get all riled up thinking I’m going after his sister.” He pauses, then averts his gaze, looking past her. “Actually, you kinda remind me of my own sisters.”
It seems like a strangely intimate confession, one she shouldn’t take lightly. The way the words flow out of his mouth, how ‘sisters’ lies on his tongue- it’s clear he hasn’t talked about them in quite a while.
“Oh, is that so?” Sarah asks calmly, trying to keep the tenuous layer of intimacy that had just befallen them intact.
In response, Bucky offers a brief nod. It’s not quite the reply she was hoping for, but again, it’s not her place to pry.
It becomes pretty clear to Sarah that Bucky’s not the one used to starting conversations. He struggles silently for a moment, looking like he’s trying to put his thoughts to words. He eventually asks, “You and Sam are pretty close, right?” and it’s a question, obviously, but his tone holds an underlying inquiry of permission, like he’s wondering if it’s okay to ask about her life.
She tries to assure him by answering straight away. “Yup, tight as two peas in a pod, as much as he’ll try and deny it. AJ and Cass kinda remind me of our younger selves, sometimes.” She says, pointing out towards the dock where the two kids are running around each other. “‘Course, it was hard when he decided to join the army, and when that whole... half-world disappearing act happened, but look at us now. Even though he’s gone savin’ the world all the time, he always comes back.” The ‘if he can come back’ is left unsaid, but she figures this isn’t the conversation to have with the man who was the unwitting catalyst for Sam becoming an enemy of the state.
“Sam’s good like that.” Bucky starts. His lips quirk upward. “Always doing the right thing.”
And, well, she can’t get too mushy about her brother, because he is a real pain in the ass sometimes. So she tells Bucky, “Well, almost always. He has a tendency to mess with stuff he shouldn’t. Like that water pump.” She says, pointedly.
Bucky puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, look. That was all Sam’s idea.”
“For two guys who are supposedly just ‘coworkers,’” She puts in air quotes, “You sure do spend a lot of time together, helpin’ each other.”
Bucky’s quiet at that, but he does look over at Sam for the umpteenth time this conversation. It seems she’s hit the nail on the head. Bucky’s words come out more softly when he does decide to speak. “He’s a good person. He deserves the help.” He states simply.
Sarah wonders if the phrasing there holds any significance. The word ‘deserves’ rests heavy in the sentence, and she finds herself believing that Bucky must think a lot about what everyone ‘deserves.’ Probably about himself, too.
And it sucks, because Bucky seems like a genuinely good guy, but he admits in subtle ways that he doesn’t think so. Not that Sarah’s pretending to give a whole psychoanalysis on the guy- she’s no therapist- but it just makes the moments he does relax and let loose all the more sweet.
Like when he looks at her brother. Or when they both bicker, or spar, or talk, or flirt. Yes, flirt. Because regardless of whether either of them know it- Sam or Bucky- they’ve been making goo goo eyes at each other for the whole time they’ve been together, here. She would chastise either of them for not making a move already, but…
Well, Bucky’s from the thirties, really. Same sex couples weren’t so much taboo as they were an all-encompassing sin that sends you straight to hell. And despite the clear chemistry- one might call it- between them, it’s clear that they’re not ready quite yet. Teetering on the edge, for sure, but not quite ready to take the plunge.
Which is fine. Because Sam is the Captain America now, and Bucky is still figuring out who he is. Sarah’s not even sure the man is aware of the love struck face he pulls whenever he glances at Sam from afar. Like the one he has now. For all she knows, he might not have even considered the fact that he’s not straight.
But damn, if that ain’t the most smitten expression on Bucky’s face.
She can see it in Sam, too. In both of them, really, every time they interact.
“Since you’re not into me,” Sarah says finally, just hoping she’s not overstepping in a weird way, “I’m pretty good at bein’ a sister.” And just to pad the emotionally charged statement, she adds, “Unless you’re into people that remind you of your sisters. In which case, I’m not messin’ with that.”
Bucky gives a small laugh, and man, does it make her heart soar. She spies Sam giving a wave to the pair of them, as he makes his way off the dock with his nephews. The sun has almost set, now, the last few slivers of orangey pink light shining just above the horizon line.
As her brother comes closer, both her and Bucky can see him struggling with the mosquitoes, too. AJ and Cass are clapping their hands, trying to kill the bugs, and Sam has a small pout (not unlike Bucky’s from earlier) as he slaps the back of his neck. Sarah can hear him bitching already, even though they’re still a few yards away.
Bucky huffs a laugh under his breath.
And just before the trio of boys come within earshot, Bucky replies to her. “Nah, I’m not into you. No offence. Just…” He trails off, but there doesn’t seem to be an actual end to that sentence.
What he fails to put to words, though, he definitely captures through the way he stares at Sam’s approaching figure. He’s literally got his eyes on someone else. And that’s great, because Sarah knows her brother feels the same way, even if he’s gone through many hoops to avoid even hinting at it.
But as the two men make eye contact, Sam’s face softening as it meets Bucky’s, Sarah can only hope it doesn’t take those idiots too long to figure out the obvious.