bird jokes
James Buchanan Barnes, known to most of the world as Bucky (yes, it rhymes with fucky, and he doesn't give a shit, dammit!) loved Sunday mornings. Loved them. Loved them more than banana pancakes. Loved them more than puppies. Freaking puppies, man.
He and his roommate, Sam Wilson, were always busy with school shit, and Sunday was the one day where they were both home, and they could both sit at the table in peace, and eat breakfast.
This Sunday was no different.
"Dude, pass the damn butter already, I've said it four fucking times, man."
Sam poked his right arm repeatedly until Bucky snapped back into reality.
"You were daydreaming about puppies again, weren't you?"
"...Maybe."
"Pass the fucking butter."
"Magic word, please," Bucky batted his eyelashes at Sam, who rolled his eyes.
"Magic word, my ass."
"Then, not butter for you, bird boy," Bucky teased.
"Hey! My birdwatching club is fucking awesome, okay?" Sam whined. "Now, can you please pass the butter?"
"Only if you tell me what they call you at your birdwatching club," Bucky insisted, smirking slyly.
"Fuck you, man, I already said please," Sam rolled his eyes.
"Okaaaaay, I guess I'll keep this butter all to myself, then-"
"You're an asshole," Sam retorts. "And they call me Falcon. Now pass me the motherfucking butter," he insists, and Bucky cackles and tosses the butter to Sam.
"You could've gotten up and got it yourself, lazy ass," Bucky teases.
"My foot fell asleep," Sam says as he spreads butter on his bagel.
"You could've flown here, Falcon."
"Shut up."
Sam and Bucky sat in a comfortable silence, eating their respective meals and busying themselves with their thoughts.
"Hey, forgot to tell you," Sam quips.
"What?"
"Not gonna be here tonight, going to hang out with Nat and Clint," Sam answers.
"Ah, a snipers reunion, how nice," Bucky says.
"Don't be so bitter," Sam kicks him under the table.
"It's not my fault Natasha doesn't like me, I am a wonderful person with a great personality," Bucky insists.
"You met them one time, a year and a half ago, man," Sam says. "They're actually great people, they helped me- well, we helped each other when we were in Afghanistan. Not to mention they're hilarious as fuck."
"It's cool, man. Have fun with them, I have some robotics shit to do, anyways, so I'm busy," Bucky replies.
"You should come along, I'm sure they won't mind. We're just going to the diner and then back to Nat's place for drinks, and-"
"Dude, no way I'm crashing your trio-date, not again."
"Actually, they may have invited you..."
"Ha."
"No man, I'm serious. They asked about you, said you were invited if you wanted to come."
"Well, I don't wanna."
"You're so annoying."
"Eat your damn bagel, bird boy," Bucky retorts, and bird boy flips him the bird, as most bird boys do.
***
Clint, Natasha and Sam met up at the local diner around 7 that Sunday night. They sat in the booth and laughed their asses off, reminiscing about the good old days.
"Man, Riley really was great at dancing," Sam says, and Clint snorts again. "I miss him, you know?" Clint and Nat nod their heads, and Nat puts her hand on top of his.
"Anyways," Sam continues. "We should do this more often, guys."
"Dude it's so fucking weird, like we know each other for years now, we go our separate ways after serving and yet we find ourselves at the same college at the same time," Clint remarks.
"Barton, you just followed my ass around," Nat dead pans, and Sam laughs. "Anywhere I went, you followed. Like a lost little puppy," she coos, and pitches his cheeks, only to have him swat away her hands.
"But even so, the fact that Sam is here is like, like..."
"Magical, Barton? The work of the gods?" Sam jokes.
"Is it divine intervention, Clint?" Nat cackles, and pokes his stomach.
"I hate you both."
"Aw, Clint, but we love you!" Nat teases. "I do get what you're saying though, but Sam and I actually kept in touch."
"What."
"Yeah man, I told Nat I wanted to go to college and she said where she was going and I decided, 'well, fuck it, I got nothing better to do,'" Sam admits. He pushes his empty plate in front of him, into the center of the table, and leans back into the seat.
"YOU GUYS KEPT IN TOUCH AND DIDN'T TELL ME," Clint whines loudly. "Man, I thought it was like motherfucking fate!"
"Nah, man, we talked. I don't know why Nat didn't tell you," and Nat smiles devilishly. "Still, we all got busy, even though you two managed to keep in touch without me being involved."
"It's not my fault he follows me everywhere," Nat mutters, but smiles fondly at Clint, who flipped her the bird.
***
When Sam got home that night, he walked into the kitchen and found Bucky passed out at the table, with a shit ton of papers under his arms. He must've been studying when he fell asleep.
Idiot keeps working himself too hard, Sam though.
He nudges Bucky's arm, and Bucky wakes up startled.
"I'm up, I'm up I have the homework!"
"Dude what the fuck."
"Oh," Bucky looks up. "I fell asleep? What time is it?" he asks.
Sam looks down at his watch, "1 in the morning, dumb ass. Go to bed."
"I have work to do," Bucky yawns.
"Do it tomorrow night, Buck."
"No-"
"Actually, you have plans tomorrow night."
Bucky looks up from the table of papers scattered. "I do?"
"Well, we do."
"Um."
"Me, you, Nat, Clint and his roommate."
"I didn't agree to this, Sammy," Bucky complains. "I have too much work to do."
"Bucky, Nat and Clint asked about you, they wanna see you," Sam insists, and Bucky gives him a look. "Okay fine, Clint wants to see you, Nat is utterly indifferent."
"Dude..."
"Come on, one night!" Sam begs. "And if you really don't like it, then I won't make you do it again," he promises.
"I hate you."
"Thank youuuuuu," Sam sing-songs, and walks off to his room.
"Fuck off, bird boy."