Archive of Our Own

A war zone is not the best place to fall in love. But Sam and Bucky were never known for making the best decisions.

Afghanistan 2010

“Sergeant Barnes, meet the pilot brought in for the Falcon project, Sam Wilson,” the lieutenant says. Sam silently shakes Bucky’s proffered hand and gives him a single nod.

“Glad they finally brought you over to our team, Wilson. I’ve heard rumors about you being the best pilot we got.”

“Well I don’t about the best, but I do give it my all,” Sam says, a little more at ease in front of his new sergeant.

“That’s all we ask for.” Bucky takes Sam over to another tent where there’s a strategy meeting. “Boys, here is Sam Wilson, the new pilot, he’s gonna be initiating the Falcon project.”

Sam meets his new team and their first missions go swimmingly, nothing unexpected, no deaths. Always makes for a good day. Sam gets used to his wings in no time; they become a second skin to him and from then on he is regarded as far more than just a fighter pilot.

Him and Bucky grow close, become partners, always together when fighting. They build a strong trust that becomes unbreakable, which happens when you fight a war together. The team nicknames them the “dynamic duo” because when they’re on the field together they dominate land and sky.

A few months later, the same lieutenant who recruited Sam, brought in Riley. He is another fighter pilot turned over to the Falcon project by seeing the success of it through Sam. Bucky is so grateful for Riley, feeling even more secure with both him and Sam in the sky, they make the best team.

Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is still in full force and on it’s way to be repelled while Sam and Bucky are in the war. During their down time it becomes harder and harder to deny the attraction they feel for each other.

“So Wilson, you got a girl at home?” Rhodey asks one night after a day mission.

“Nah, man. Free as a bird,” Sam smiles and a few guys laugh.

“No girl can hold the Falcon down,” says Riley and gives Sam a high five.

“That’s right, man,” Sam replies and discreetly looks at Bucky who’s been silent. Bucky meets his eyes and smirks at him. Sam feels his cheeks warm and ducks his head and thinks, I never said a man couldn’t hold me down, and hopes Bucky can read his thoughts.

Later that night Bucky can’t sleep so he gets up and walks over the edge of basecamp. It’s on a hill and he sits down by a tree, looking at the landscape below while idly taking long swigs from his full flask. After about twenty minutes he hears footsteps approach and turns around on high alert then relaxes as he recognizes Sam.

“Can’t sleep?” Sam asks quietly. Bucky nods and then the flask is noticed. “Does that help?” Sam nods at the flask.

“Sometimes. Not always with sleep, ‘helps ease the restless mind’, my dad used to say. He was just a drunk though,” Bucky answers, gaze drifting back to the landscape.

Sam chuckles softly and sits down next to Bucky with a sigh. “What does that make you?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky pauses. “I never let it keep me from doing my job though.”

“And you’re damn good at it too,” Sam says and they fall silent for a few minutes. When Bucky offers the flask to Sam, he looks at it skeptically but then shrugs and takes a sip, cringing at the warm vodka. They pass it back and forth until it’s empty.

“I always wonder, is what I’m doing good?” Bucky muses.

Sam stares at his profile for a long moment, contemplating the question. “What do you mean? We’re serving our country, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but I never would have thought killing people would ever be considered honorable.”

“I know what you mean, it’s a strange time we live in.” Bucky hums in response and meets Sam’s eyes.

Now it’s just the two of them and there’s nothing holding them back from giving into their forbidden wants. Bucky’s eyes fall to Sam’s lips for a split second, not going unnoticed. Sam swallows roughly and breathes out, “Buck”. Only when they’re alone does Bucky permit Sam calling him that, all other times it’s ‘sergeant’.

“Sam,” Bucky rasps. He’s starting to feel the vodka and it’s making his eyes heavy and mouth dry, but his desire for Sam is at an all time high. Not two feet away, it’d be so easy to just reach out and take what he’s been wanting for months. Although they haven’t even had a single conversation about whatever has been building between them; it has been an unspoken rule that whatever this is, it's off limits.

Sam is feeling a good buzz and Bucky’s so close and his lips are red from biting, which is incredibly distracting, and Sam feels a little less in control in that moment. Without either of them noticing, they lean into each other’s space, now inches apart.

“Please tell me this is what I think it is,” Bucky pleads and Sam can feel Bucky’s breath on his lips.

“Yeah, it is. But I don’t wanna do this like this. It might sound dumb and girly but I don’t want alcohol involved. I want to know you want this sober,” Sam asks and Bucky lets his forehead fall to Sam’s shoulder.

Bucky takes deep breaths and comes back to himself as much as he can, “I get it, I want that too. God, Sam, I want you so much,” Bucky admits, his breath sending shivers down Sam’s spine and it takes all of his self control to not throw his hands up and say ‘fuck it’, awkward morning be damned.

“How about this, I’ll be here at the same time tomorrow night. This is an open invitation, but not with your little helper there,” Sam laughs and is pretty sure he can feel Bucky smile against his neck.

“It’s a date,” Bucky drawls lazily.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” Sam asks and Bucky nods. They get up and stumble back to their tents to sleep off the alcohol and desire.

*

Sam isn’t surprised, but excited to see Bucky standing by the same tree tonight. He’s also relieved that he doesn’t spot Bucky’s flask; it gives him hope that he is serious about this too.

Sam walks until he’s a few feet away and when Bucky sees him, an easy smile spreads across his face. Sam raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge as if waiting for Bucky to chicken out. “Are you sure about this?”

Bucky huffs out a laugh, “We are out of here in a few months, I can’t wait any more.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Sam says trying to sound sexy but just making Bucky laugh.

“Get the fuck over here, Wilson.” Sam obliges and closes the distance between them and crashes their lips together in a graceless kiss. If they were in a more romantic setting their kiss would’ve been chaste and sweet, but they’re in Afghanistan and being shot at on a daily basis, so they kiss like it’s going to be their last. Sam’s hands drag through Bucky’s short hair, messing it up on purpose while Bucky’s hands slide under Sam’s t-shirt, nails scratching followed by soothing strokes.

Sam pushes Bucky up against the tree as they make out like teenagers and grind shamelessly against each other. Bucky pulls away to catch his breath and laughs against Sam’s neck, “is that all you got?” Sam’s eyes darken and he grabs a handful of Bucky’s hair, kisses him roughly, and drops to his knees. Bucky has to bite his hand to keep from making any noise and returns the favor once he comes down Sam’s throat. When he sees Sam wiping his chin with the back of his hand and thinks is the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he knows that he’s going to fall hard and fast for this man.

The only bad thing about starting this is that from now on they want each other even more; they can’t get enough and they know they’re in too deep but they just dive in deeper.

*

After that night, their personal dynamic changes. They’re still professional and get the job done better than anyone. Although during their downtime it gets harder and harder to pretend like something is not going on between them. Riley is the first to notice, since he has become Sam’s best friend.

It’s just Sam and Riley outside by the fire when Riley starts, “so you and Sergeant Barnes.”

Sam tenses and takes a long swig of his beer, “what about me and Sergeant Barnes?”

“You two seem close is all,” says Riley, placating.

“We’ve always been close, war’ll do that,” Sam brushes off.

“Yeah, although recently you seem closer than friends.”

“Is there a problem here, Riley?”

“Look, man. I don’t care. Really I don’t, there just have been some rumors going around the last few months and I wanted to hear it from you,” Riley says.

Sam sighs, he knows Riley is a good guy and won’t rat him out. “Yeah. Bucky and I. Um, we are-” Sam stops because he doesn’t really know what he and Bucky are to each other yet. They hook up but they also talk, about their lives, fears, hopes, and the future. Sam hopes there is more to whatever they have once they get out of this hellscape.

“Hey, man, Bucky’s a great guy. I’m happy for you,” Riley says. “I guess I’m still right when I said a girl can’t hold you down.” That makes Sam laugh and punch Riley in the arm. They finish their beer and talk for a little while longer then head back to their tent.

*

It’s three days before they go home; Bucky and Sam are sitting on their usual spot on the hilltop, overlooking the desert landscape. The air is electric with excited energy to get home and finally be done fighting everyday. Some nights, like tonight, Bucky and Sam get caught up in talking so much, sex doesn’t even cross their mind. They lean against each and steal kisses, their relationship has become as emotional as is it physical and neither of them wants to give that up.

“You gonna go back to DC?” Bucky says in the quiet of early morning.

“Yeah, I still have my apartment, and it’ll be nice to be back. It’s home to me.” Bucky hums in response. “You never told me where you’re going.”

“That’s because I don’t know. I don’t have an apartment or really a place I call home,” Bucky answers.

Sam sees the opportunity here, but doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. But on the other hand, he thinks if he doesn’t jump at this chance he may never see Bucky again and that thought is too hard to bear.

“Well, you can come with me if you wanted,” Sam suggests and swallows hard, it was now or never.

Bucky looks at him with a wry smile, “ready to shack up already, Sammy?” He teases and bumps Sam’s shoulder.

Sam laughs and pushes back, “shut up, I offered mainly so your ass wouldn’t be homeless.”

“Of course I want to,” Bucky says and leans over to playfully bite Sam’s earlobe, then kisses it.

Sam grabs Bucky’s chin and looks into his eyes, “you’re the worst.”

“I know,” he says with a shiteating grin, “but now you’re stuck with me. Are you sure you want to do this? This is your chance to back out.”

“Absolutely,” Sam says against Bucky’s lips.

*

The next day the team had a routine mission to survey a given area and make sure there was nothing suspicious. For these simple missions, Sam and Riley are the only ones in the air; if they need backup they call in for pilots. The rest of the team stay on the ground and take Bucky’s orders.

It’s midday, Sam and Riley are in the air flying a mapped out course and Bucky has the rest of the team spread out.

“Everything seems to be all clear from up here, Sergeant,” Riley says into the comm.

“Wilson, can you confirm?” Bucky asks.

“Affirmative.” Sam flies up higher to get a broader view, so he can see most of the team. He won’t admit it’s partly to keep Bucky in his line of sight.

“Hang on, I see an unidentified object on my 12. Falcon, can you see it?”

“Barely, it’s very small, but doesn’t look familiar,” Riley answers since Sam was too far up to notice anything.

“I’m going to investigate it, Rhodey you’re my backup.”

“Be careful,” Sam says automatically.

“Always am,” Bucky replies and Sam doesn’t bother to hide his smile. Sam flew in closer to so he can circle Rhodey and Bucky.

“Approaching object,” Bucky pauses. “Object identified as a children’s toy. Going to investigate further,” he says and reaches to pick up the tiny tattered teddy bear on the ground.

Rhodey sees a glimpse of something metallic under the bear just as Bucky’s hand wraps around it, he shouts, “Barnes! NO!” But it’s too late, once Bucky moved the bear; it triggered a pressure bomb and exploded right in Bucky’s hand. The blast knocked him several feet backwards, landing on his back and knocking the wind out of him.

Sam dives down shouting Bucky’s name, landing hard. He folds his wings back in their pack and rushes for Bucky. He doesn’t see what happened until the smoke clears around Bucky. Sam goes cold all over once he sees what’s happened; Bucky’s left arm is gone up to the shoulder and Bucky is lying there in shock, barely breathing. Wasting no time, Sam kneels down by Bucky’s side and takes hold of his jaw so he won’t turn to see his missing arm just yet.

“Bucky? You with me?” Sam asks, trying to control his voice. He gives Rhodey a warning look to not say anything.

“Sam. Wh- what happened?”

“You uh, you picked up a bomb,” Sam answers and Bucky’s eyes go wide and he starts to breathe harder.

“Hey, no. Shh, you’re going to okay, alright? We just need to get you out of here.”

“What happened to me, Sam,” Bucky grits out and fights the hold on his jaw.

“No, Buck, you don’t wanna see right now. You’re gonna go into shock and I don’t know how long it’ll take to get you to medical,” Sam hastily explains.

Bucky rips away Sam’s hand with his right hand and looks down as his body. As soon as he sees the bloody stump of what’s left of his left arm his brain registers the enormous pain. “Oh ffuck- fuck, fuck, FUCK,” Bucky swears and writhes in pain, splitting Sam and Rhodey’s ears with his screams.

“Rhodey, I need something for his arm. Now,” Sam demands and is immediately given a cloth to wrap around Bucky’s wound. It’s going to have to be good enough to slow the bleeding down until they can get Bucky help.

The cloth touches Bucky and he screams and curses even louder. Sam works fast and ties off the cloth with shaking hands and stands, lifting Bucky into his arms.

Sam jogs back as fast as he can to the base without jostling Bucky too much. “Riley, we need a helicopter, right the fuck now,” he says into his comm.

“Already covered, they’re all ready to go,” Riley responds.

He runs a little faster when he sees the helicopter. One of their snipers, Clint, opens the door and closes it as soon as Sam and Bucky are securely in.

Clint sees the blood soaked cloth on Bucky’s shoulder, “Oh fuck”.

“Yeah, we need to go right now,” Sam says and they take off to the nearest base that has a full medical facility and surgeon.

Sam sits up in his seat and cradles Bucky to his chest. Bucky’s silent now and that worries Sam even more; the first signs of shock and infection are coming through. When he feels Bucky start to tremble he bends down to press his cheek to Bucky’s forehead and feels cold sweat. Sam closes his eyes and wills the helicopter to go faster and for Bucky to not let the infection take over.

*

Bucky is put into a chemically induced coma straight after his surgery. The surgery took hours, having to cauterize the nerves and blood vessels and do skin grafts. Since Bucky was under sedation, he was able to fight off infection.

The team was in and out of medical, checking in and seeing how he was doing. Sam though, never left his side. He had his chair right next to the bed where he ate and slept; the nurses didn’t bother telling him he couldn’t stay. After three days Sam was exhausted from worry and lack of sleep, every time he drifted off the sound of Bucky screaming in pain invaded his mind. He has never felt so helpless before, being detached from the explosion way up in the sky.

It’s late in the afternoon on the fourth day since the explosion when Bucky stirs awake. The first thing he sees is Sam slumped in his chair sleeping.

“Sam,” Bucky whispers, voice hoarse from disuse. “Sam,” he says again, louder this time.

Sam’s eyes open slowly and turns to meet Bucky’s. “Bucky,” he says, “You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” Bucky confirms and gives Sam a soft smile. Sam sits up and leans on the bed, he made sure to be on Bucky’s right side. He holds Bucky’s hand in a loose grip and strokes the inside of his wrist.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re okay.”

Bucky breaks his gaze from Sam’s and gets a pinched look on his face. “I’m a little less than okay right now.”

“You’re alive. That’s what matters,” Sam says. Bucky doesn’t respond, just looks to his absent left arm and then back to Sam with a defeated look. Sam doesn’t know what to do or say to make him feel better, so instead he kisses Bucky’s hand and leans into it when Bucky cups his cheek.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Bucky confesses.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

They sit for a few quiet minutes until Rhodey comes in. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks Sam who nods and gets up. “Glad to see you awake, Sergeant.” Bucky gives Rhodey a grateful nod.

Sam and Rhodey walk outside. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got some good news,” Rhodey starts. “Tony heard about Bucky’s accident and wants to help. He says he’s working on a fully functional prosthetic arm: titanium, the works. Might even be better than his right arm.”

“Well, thank you Stark Industries,” Sam says.

“Not his company, Wilson. He is building it himself. We’re good friends and he wanted to help out, plus it’s an exciting new project for him.”

“Wow, I can’t believe Iron Man himself wants to help him,” Sam laughs.

“Tony has a big heart, it just gets buried underneath all that sarcasm. We just need to get Bucky on board with it.”

“You think he’ll refuse?” Sam asks.

“I’ve seen guys injured like this before and it’s their pride that takes the biggest hit. They hate that they need help when they were perfectly capable before. I think you should be the one that tells him.”

“Why me?” Rhodey just lifts an eyebrow at Sam and gives him a knowing look before walking away. Sam sighs and goes back to Bucky.

As soon as Sam sits back down Bucky asks, “What’d Rhodey say?”

“That Tony is working on a project,” Sam explains. He doesn’t want to lie to Bucky, but he doesn’t want him to refuse either, although Bucky’s never been an overly prideful man.

“Mhmm.” Bucky’s lost, Sam can tell, so he decides to just rip off the bandaid right now.

“This project is building you a titanium prosthetic arm. He started as soon as he heard about the accident.” It’s hard to read Bucky’s face because so many emotions cross it at once. “You don’t have to say anything right now. You don’t even have to accept it.”

“No, of course I want to accept it, Tony’s a genius. But, why does he want to help me? I don’t know him.”

“He’s a close friend of Rhodey’s, so I guess by association?”

“I don’t think I deserve special treatment.”

“You are a Sergeant in the military, you are risking your life for our country. You deserve this, believe me,” Sam assures and grips Bucky’s hand in both of his. He gives Bucky a pensive look, “You gotta take this offer, Buck. Not a lot of people get a second chance like this.” Bucky just nods and suddenly looks way more exhausted. “You should get some rest,” he says and stands to give Bucky a gentle peck on the lips.

“Everything’s gonna be different,” Bucky whispers maybe meaning for it be to himself, but Sam caught it.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m now going to be the Ex-Sergeant with a fake arm most likely paired with mental issues. I’m gonna be different now, we’re gonna be different. I can’t ask you to stay with me like this . . . ” Bucky trails off and Sam silences his racing thoughts with a deep kiss.

He cups Bucky’s jaw and looks into his eyes, “I don’t want you to think like that. Yes, some things are going to be different now. But I’m not, the way I feel about you hasn’t changed. I’m going to stay with you. You’re still coming to DC with me.”

Bucky takes a shuddering breath through his nose, visibly trying to calm himself down.

“My only thoughts on the helicopter ride over here were, ‘you have to be safe, you have to be okay’. I’ve never been so scared in my life than when I thought I was losing you.” Sam blinked away the sudden wetness that formed in his eyes and took a few deep breaths; he had to be the strong one right now.

“Sam, I think I need you pretty fucking bad,” Bucky says.

“I need you too.”

Sam stays right by Bucky’s side until he’s released.

Two days later, Bucky and Sam are boarding a plane to finally fly back home.

“Where to?” The pilot asks Sam.

“Washington D.C.”

“Sergeant?”

“Washington D.C.” Bucky repeats and the pilot nods. They get settled into seats right next to each other.

“Are you ready to live with me? My life can get pretty boring,” Sam says.

“I think I could use boring for a while,” Bucky replies and smiles tiredly. Yeah, boring sounds perfect right now.

*

Washington D.C.

They finally get to Sam’s apartment just after midnight. Sam helps Bucky with his bags and takes them to his room. He turns around to see Bucky standing in the doorway with a strange look on his face. “What is it?”

“Are you sure you want me in here? I mean I saw a guest room; I just don’t want to-” Bucky stops his rambling and rubs the back of his neck.

Sam closes the distance between them and frames Bucky’s face in his hands. “Yes, I’m sure I want you here. There’s no hiding or sneaking around here. I’ve wanted to share a bed with you since we started this. But if you’d rather sleep in the guest room, I won’t be offended.”

Bucky sighs in relief and melts into Sam. “I want that too,” he breathes.

“Okay, let’s get ready for bed then, I’m bone tired.”

They change and wash up and Bucky waits for Sam to get under the sheets first. Sam lays on the right side so Bucky slides in next to him and gets pulled in tight. His head finds a comfortable spot on Sam’s shoulder as he presses against his side, being very cautious of his healing shoulder.

“Sam, I don’t know if I could get through this without you,” Bucky says in the quiet dark of the room.

“You could’ve, but I wouldn’t have let you,” Sam replies and tilts Bucky’s chin up to kiss him. “I’m thrilled that I can do this whenever I want now,” he says, emphasizing the words with kisses.

“Same here.” He settles back against Sam. “Good night,” he yawns.

“Good night,” Sam repeats and a minute later says, “love you”.

Bucky’s heart sores and his whole body feels warm. He kisses under Sam’s chin and says, “love you too,” into his skin. He falls easily into sleep and doesn’t wake up the whole night. It’s the first good night’s sleep he’s gotten since before his draft.

*

Daily tasks and simple things prove to be more difficult than expected and beyond frustrating for Bucky with just one arm. At first he goes about everything as if he still has his left and arm and then realizes that either can’t do it with one hand or he has to relearn it. Sam is always close by, but he never helps Bucky right away, he lets him try to figure it out on his own and only when Bucky calls for him does he help.

Sam tries to let Bucky know that he will help with anything, but he sees in Bucky’s eyes that he’s embarrassed he needs help with simple things. When he helps Bucky and cups his jaw and gives him a genuine smile until Bucky smiles back. The tasks always end with sweet kisses.

One afternoon they are getting ready to stay at Stark tower for a while; they have a meeting with Tony that day to make molds of Bucky’s shoulder for the prosthetic. They are running late when the driver comes to bring them to the airport for them to fly in the private jet Tony sent. Sam finishes getting dressed and makes sure everything’s packed.

Sam is ready and the only thing he’s waiting on is Bucky to get his boots on and tied. He is hyper aware of the fact that the driver has been waiting ten minutes by now so he goes over to Bucky and kneels in front of him, who has been struggling with the long laces for the last five minutes.

“Dammit, Sam, I almost fucking had it,” Bucky swears as Sam takes over and quickly ties them. He glares down at Sam, “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“I know, Buck. But we really need to get going, we’re already late as it is,” Sam huffs and stands to grab their duffle bags. Bucky follows behind Sam to the car silently and they leave for the airport. The whole ride to the airport is uncomfortably quiet; Bucky’s eyes never leave the window.

They pull up onto the tarmac and the driver carries one duffle as Sam gets the other. He stands for a second and looks at Bucky who looks a little lost. Then he holds out his left hand as an offering to Bucky who gives him an apologetic smile and slips his hand into Sam’s. They walk hand in hand until they are in the tiny plane.

It’s only Sam and Bucky and the pilot who is closed off into the cockpit, so they have a little bit of privacy. They get in the air and are allowed to take off seatbelts for a short time, since the flight is less than an hour.

Sam’s seated across from Bucky, he scoots to the edge until their knees are touching. “Babe.”

Bucky purses his lips and reluctantly meets Sam’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Sam starts, but stops when Bucky shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t be sorry for helping me. I snapped at you out of frustration. I’m sorry.” Sam rests his hands on Bucky’s knees and rubs circles with his thumbs.

“You’re fine, I can appreciate what you must be going through. It’s not forever though,” he says in hopeful tone. “You’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“What if it’s not that easy?”

“Then we’ll work through it.” Bucky smiles at Sam and wonders how he got so lucky to have him.

“I don’t know if I’m worth all this, Sam,” Bucky admits.

“All what?”

“Letting me live with you. Helping me all the time and I’m a long way away from recovery.”

“Come here,” Sam urges Bucky to lean forward and wraps his hand around the back of his neck and squeezes a little bit. “You know how I know I’m in love with you?” Bucky shakes his head. “Because it doesn’t bother me to help you when can’t do something one-handed. It’s doesn’t bother me to stay up with you at night when you get phantom pain. I love being the one who gets to do all that for you. Now it would kill me to see someone else do that, even worse if you were by yourself.” Bucky leans forwards to press his forehead against Sam’s and breaths deep, letting Sam’s words wash over him. “You are worth everything to me.”

“So are you,” he says and kisses Sam to drive home his point. “I love you more than anything.”

“Right back atcha.”

It’s another hour until they are walking into the lobby of Stark tower, greeted by Pepper.

“Sam, Bucky, welcome. It’s so good to have you guys. Tony might be a little too excited about your arm,” she says to Bucky with a polite smile. They follow her into the elevator and they go up to Tony’s workshop. Pepper punches in a code and the glass door slides open. “If you haven’t met Tony before just know that he’s a lot to take in at first,” she nods to them and goes back to the elevator.

They hear Tony before they see him, “Gentlemen! Welcome to my lair.” The workshop is cluttered with car parts, screens, and parts to electronics that are unrecognizable. When they get over to Tony, he’s sitting on a stool at a metal worktable with a mostly finished prosthetic arm. Tony stops what he’s soldering and gets up from the stool to meet Bucky and Sam halfway.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Tony states and holds out his right hand for Bucky to shake.

“How’d you know?” Bucky says and manages laugh; it’s the first lighthearted thing he’s ever said about his missing arm. “You can call me Bucky.”

Tony smiles and plays along, “lucky guess”. Then he shakes Sam’s hand, “and you must be the famous Falcon.”

“Famous huh? Well yes, but Sam is fine,” he says and smiles. He doesn’t know Tony, but he already likes the guy.

“And you are Bucky’s-” Tony trails off and waving his hand so Sam can finish for him.

“Partner,” Sam supplies and Bucky can’t hide his smile; it’s the first time either has said what they are to each other out loud. “We met in Afghanistan and it just kinda blossomed from there.” Sam places a hand on Bucky’s lower back, which he relaxes into automatically.

“Excellent. Now let’s get down to business shall we?” Tony says and leads them to the workbench.

There’s a small bucket of white goo-like liquid in it that Tony stirs a few times. “This is a liquid rubber compound I will use to make a negative mold of your shoulder. So, shirt off and take a seat.”

Sam smiles at Bucky reassuringly as he takes off his jacket and shirt. Tony catches Sam staring at Bucky’s body appreciatively, “will this be too much of a distraction for you, birdman?” Tony asks playfully.

“I am staying right here,” Sam retorts, making Bucky laugh.

“Well then, I’m going to put you to work, grab that wood spatula and start spreading the rubber on him, I need it to cover from here to about here,” Tony explains as he points to Bucky’s neck then about halfway down his side. While Sam works on slathering Bucky with the mold on the side of his chest, he keeps catching Bucky’s eyes. There’s a fond and content look in his eyes that makes Sam’s breath catch; he smiles softly and looks back to what he’s doing.

Tony puts some numbing gel and gauze over Bucky’s shoulder, not wanting the mold to irritate it. A few more minutes and Bucky is covered in the mold, and has to sit still to let it dry.

“So this prosthetic, saying that dumbs down my incredible achievement, is made of a titanium-vibranium alloy so it’s light and strong. I’m working on the finishing touches to the sensory system so you will be able to have if not all, most of your feeling back,” Tony says proudly and Bucky listens to every word in awe.

When the mold sets both Tony and Sam gently peel it away from Bucky’s shoulder and it comes out perfect.

“This is so I can cushion the inside of the arm so there won’t be any rough edges. I had to learn the hard way with my suit.” It takes Sam a minute to remember that Tony is Iron Man. “Alright, that’s all I needed from you today, I’ll let you know when we can get this show on the road.”

“Tony I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” Bucky says and Tony holds up a finger to silence him.

“I’m just catering to my hobbies here, you have given me a great project, I just wish it wasn’t due to such unfortunate circumstances.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees and grips Tony’s hand in a quick handshake.

“Jarvis, please guide these two to their room.”

“Yessir,” the ceiling says, startling both Sam and Bucky. “Gentlemen, if you would take the elevator to up to the penthouse, your room is located behind the fifth door on the west wing. You’ll take a left out of the elevator.”

They get into the elevator and Jarvis continues, “If you need anything, I will be happy to assist you.”

“Uh thank you . . . ceiling,” Sam says, Bucky laughs at the way Sam’s eyes squint.

“You can call me Jarvis.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Bucky and Sam find their room easily since their names are on the door. It was modest of Tony to call this a room, when it is a full-blown suite, bigger than Sam’s apartment by a long shot. Everything is state of the art, with holograms and controls for everything. The decor was minimalist and modern, complementing the floor to ceiling windows that give a panoramic view of New York City.

“Holy shit,” Bucky says as he looks around in awe. Their bags have been placed on the king sized bed in the master bedroom. The standard military duffle bags look so out of place in this spectacular room.

“I feel like I don’t want to touch anything,” Sam adds and goes to unpack his bag and fill a drawer of the dresser with clothes.

Since Sam is busy with his clothes he doesn’t notice Bucky walk over to him and wrap his arm around Sam’s waist and presses up against his back. “Thank you for coming with me,” Bucky whispers into Sam’s ear.

Sam slides a hand over Bucky’s forearm and holds his wrist, “You’re welcome. As you can see I’m really roughing it to be here with you.” Bucky presses his face into Sam’s neck as he laughs; Sam turns his head to kiss anywhere he can reach on Bucky’s face.

“I love you,” Bucky says quietly, “in case you didn’t know,” he smirks.

“I was getting worried there for awhile,” Sam replies and kisses Bucky slowly. He turns around and runs his hands down Bucky’s back. “I love you too.”

“Mmm, show me how much,” Bucky moves to suck and kiss along Sam’s neck and jaw, making all of Sam’s coherent thought disappear.

Sam’s eyes get darker and he walks Bucky backwards until he’s laying on his back on the bed. Sam hovers over him, rakes his eyes over Bucky’s body, and slides one hand under his shirt. He meets Bucky’s heated stare, “Tony was right, I was super distracted with you not wearing a shirt and covering you in that goo.”

Bucky scrunches up his nose, “that doesn’t sound sexy.”

“Just made me think of other ways to get you dirty,” Sam rasped and bent down to bite Bucky’s ear, earning him a low moan. “Like how I can make you sweat from head to toe.” Bucky pulls Sam’s face down to kiss him hard and sloppy, pouring all his need and want into it.

“Babe, I need you, want to feel you, make me sweat,” he pleads and Sam undresses Bucky then himself.

Sam makes good of his promise and makes Bucky sweat through the sheets while moaning Sam’s name and losing his own mind in pleasure. After they’ve christened the bed they curl together and take a nap, relishing in the fact they don’t have any obligations for the time being.

*

That night is a rough night for Bucky. Around 3 a.m. he has his recurring nightmare of the accident again and wakes up gasping for breath. Every time he wakes up he is relieved that it’s only a dream, but then overcome with dread because the outcome is real - he’s still missing his left arm. Along with the nightmare comes the pain. It’s sharp and stabbing and he feels it all through his absent arm, it gets unbearable some nights.

Sam wakes up as soon as Bucky does, due to not sleeping as deeply in an unfamiliar place. He looks over to see Bucky sitting up and leaning over, hand covering his face trying to calm down. Sam reaches out and lightly presses his knuckles to Bucky’s side. He doesn’t flinch away like he used to.

“Hey,” Sam says softly, trying to assess where Bucky’s at.

Bucky’s voice is rough and laced with poorly concealed pain, “Sam, you should go back to sleep.”

“What was it?” Sam asks, ignoring Bucky’s suggestion.

“Flashback nightmare. My arm hurts,” he says slowly and runs his hand through his hair. “It’s so shitty. It’s not even fucking there and it hurts.”

“I wish I could take your pain away.” Sam sits up beside Bucky and rubs his bare back, trying his best to sooth his suffering boyfriend. For a few minutes it’s quiet except for Bucky’s shuddering breaths.

“Do you need anything?”

“I need a fucking smoke,” Bucky says and abruptly gets out of bed and snatches the pack off the dresser and walks onto the balcony. He takes out a cigarette and lights it on the third attempt, sucking in a long drag and blowing it back out into the night. Sam can imagine the faraway look in Bucky’s eyes; trying his best to not feel anymore.

Sam will never tell Bucky that he hates this new habit of his. In the military he would only stick to drinking, but after the accident he reverted back to smoking. He’s not about to protest something that helps Bucky relax, even if it’s short lived.

Sam waits to go outside until Bucky takes out a second cigarette. Sometimes it’s best to give him space and let him be for a while. He leans over the short glass wall next to Bucky and gazes at the twinkling lights of the city. It’s silent between them, the only sounds are car horns and the breeze. Bucky puffs away at his cigarette and once it’s down to the butt he stubs it out in the corner.

“They tell you to expect the worse when you go to war, but you never do. Always think you’re the invincible one,” Bucky sighs and leans back against the glass, not looking over the city anymore.

“Yeah, but a lot of people are stuck how they are; loss of limbs or paralyzed or whatever. You have a second chance,” Sam reminds him in a gentle voice. The last thing he wants to do is chastise Bucky, but he doesn’t want to pity him either.

“I know. I know. That’s what keeps me going. If I had to live like this,” he gestures to his left side, “I would be miserable, more than now.” Bucky looks at Sam over his shoulder and Sam meets his tired gaze. Sam slides a hand across Bucky’s waist and rests it on his hip. Bucky has become his anchor and touch grounds them both.

“You’re stronger than you think you are. I see a strength in you that not many have.”

“I don’t feel very strong right now,” Bucky whispers.

“I know,” is all Sam says and they fall silent again, letting their hands do the talking with soft touches.

“I have the same dream, you know.”

“Huh?” Bucky asks, only catching the last words of what Sam said.

“I have a nightmare of the accident, but I’m up in the air and I can’t get down to you. I hear you screaming and calling my name, but I can’t reach you,” Sam explains, unconsciously pulling Bucky closer.

“But you didn’t need to save me, no one knew what was going to happen,” Bucky says.

Sam closes his eyes and bows his head, “I should’ve- I shouldn’t have let you pick up that fucking bear. It was obviously a trap. I could’ve stopped you.”

“Sam, no one knew what it was, it wasn’t big enough to be a bomb we would recognize. It was a trap, plain and simple.” Bucky sees Sam’s jaw tighten and hears him breathing hard through his nose. He turns to face Sam fully and presses his hand against Sam’s cheek thumb stroking the cheekbone. “Babe, look at me please.”

Sam opens his glassy eyes and looks at Bucky; the look on Sam’s face breaks his heart. His shiny new arm isn’t the reason Bucky tries his best to stay strong, it’s for Sam, because even if Bucky got the worst of it, Sam is still impacted and hurting just as much on the inside.

“You’re saving me now, you’re helping me heal. Don’t live in the past. Be here, with me,” Bucky requests.

“I can do that,” Sam murmurs and leans into Bucky as he presses his lips solidly to Sam’s temple.

Most nights one of them will feel worse than the other, needing to be wrapped in the other’s arms and told they’re okay. But nights like this where both of them feel broken and hopeless, all they can do is lean against each other hoping they can keep standing.

*

A week later Tony is ready to install Bucky’s arm. They come into the workshop in the early afternoon and Tony wastes no time getting ready. He has Bucky sit in a dentist style chair and pulls up a stool beside him.

“Alright Sam, I’ll only allow you to stay if you don’t mess me up and don’t distract Bucky, I need him focused,” Tony instructs.

“Yes sir,” Sam complies and sits down on Bucky’s right taking his waiting hand. Bucky gives Sam a nervous smile and squeezes his hand slightly. With a deep breath he says, “Alright Tony, let’s do this.”

Tony cleans Bucky’s skin with antiseptic and gives him small injections with anesthetic to avoid any potential pain.

“Okay first I need to fuse the metal with your body, since it’s supposed to be accepted by your body and react like a normal body part, your skin will heal around the metal, forming a new joint,” Tony explains as he gently manipulates Bucky’s shoulder into the cavity of the metal arm.

“The next part will be the longest; it will take several hours. There are live wires that act as nervous tissue. They are going to integrate into your body to connect with your nervous system, also acting as an anchor for the arm. I need you to stay still, try to keep movement to a minimum. If you have to pee or want water, Sam or I will help you.”

With that Tony leaves his side and goes to his desk to monitor the process on a computer screen, making sure everything's running smoothly. There are a few times where Bucky feel twinges through his nervous system making him feel uncomfortable; in those moments he closes his eyes, breathes through it, and holds on tighter to Sam’s hand. Sam sits with him the whole time, talking to him on and off during the pain free moments.

Four hours later the process is complete and Tony returns to his side. He calls for Jarvis to assist him with minor adjustments.

“Okay, try to lift your arm slowly,” Tony says.

Bucky takes a minute to lift it but he manages to do it. The weirdest thing is that he doesn’t have muscles in the arm, so it feels very remote to him right now, like he’s controlling it from somewhere far away.

“Excellent, now turn your hand palm up.” Bucky does as he’s instructed, in awe that he has a left arm that can do that again. Tony touches all around the palm and up each finger. “Do you feel that?”

“Yeah, it’s more of a pressure than anything, but I feel it.” Tony’s smile grows just as big as Bucky’s at his amazing accomplishment.

“Next is motility and strength tests,” Tony says and gives Bucky specific instructions for each task, which he does with more and more ease with each one.

Bucky’s arm proved to be a lot stronger than originally expected, so Tony tells him to mainly use his right arm until he is used to the super human strength.

“Bruce is free now, I’m going to call him down, he knows more about the physiological aspects of the arm. I’m just a glorified mechanic,” Tony says and Bucky laughs.

A few minutes later Bruce walks into the workshop; dressed in clothes slightly too big and hair in disarray.

“My science bro is here!” Tony cheers and Bruce ducks his head a waves a dismissive hand at him.

“Dr. Banner, you must be Bucky,” Bruce introduces and shakes Bucky’s hand. He then turns to Sam, “Hi, Dr. Banner. But you guys can call me Bruce.”

“Good to meet you, Bruce. Sam Wilson,” Sam says.

“Alright, so the integration is complete?” Bruce asks Tony.

“Yes sir and Bucky passes all the physical tests with flying colors,” Tony beams.

Bucky chuckles, “I didn’t know I was being graded.”

“You aren’t, Tony just gets excited,” Bruce says distractedly as he looks at a screen in front of him.

Bruce walks over to Bucky and checks where skin meets metal. His hands and fingers are gentle and methodical, feeling for any abrasions. When he seems to be satisfied with the inspection, he takes a step and addresses both Sam and Bucky. Something as small as Bruce recognizing the Sam is along for the ride with Bucky, talking to him as much as Bucky about the arm makes him feel contented and giddy.

“There will still be a long healing process, Bucky. Unfortunately we haven’t mastered super healing yet,” Bruce says.

“We might!” Tony shouts from across the workshop.

“Anyway, the skin on the fusion site will be inflamed and tender. I recommend trying your best not to stretch or lift your arm too much because it’ll just irritate it more.”

Your arm, Bucky thought with amazement, out of everything that will take the longest to get used to; that he has his left arm back.

“I want to see you back in two days to check up on everything. Mainly to see if your circulatory system is still functioning as normal. So, that means do not do anything that might voluntarily raise your blood pressure. No working out, no extreme sports, no sex,” Bruce says and pointedly looks at Sam at the last thing.

Bucky smirks up at Sam.

“What are you smirking for, you can’t even jerk off,” Sam says and Bucky frowns in realization.

“That’s a tall order for those two lovebirds, Banner!” Tony pipes in and at the same time Sam and Bucky turn to glare at him, which results in Tony’s loud laughter.

“It’s only for two days, then you can do that whenever if everything looks good.”

“I can manage that, this one wouldn’t be able to,” Bucky points at Sam.

“Rude.” Bucky smiles cheekily at Sam and rubs his hand up and down Sam’s back. Sam swings an arm around Bucky’s neck, careful of his now metal shoulder.

“Have you been having phantom pain?” Bruce asks and Bucky nods. “Unfortunately, that will not disappear right away. Phantom pain is partially mental, once your brain associates your new arm with a real arm, then it will fade. The best way to treat it is mirror therapy,” Bruce says and walks over to grabs a rectangular mirror on a stand so it can sit perpendicular on a table. “What you will do is set this on a table and put your right arm beside the mirror. I’ll give you exercises to do, your brain will think the mirror image is your left arm and that should make the pain subside.”

“Thank you, Bruce. I think the phantom pain will be a little easier to swallow now with this,” Bucky looks down at his new arm. “What can I do to thank you?”

Bruce just lifts a hands and politely shakes his head, “It was our pleasure, Bucky. Tony and I had some down time. But we will like to monitor your progress for a while,” Bucky nods his head. “If we can do weekly checkups and quick diagnostic tests, that will be your thank you.”

“Of course, I wanna see what’s happening too.”

Bruce writes out some exercises in case Bucky needs them and hands him the paper and gives Sam the mirror. “If you have any problems, let Tony or I know right away,” with that Bruce shakes both their hands and walks out of the workshop.

Sam helps Bucky with his t-shirt and make their way out the workshop. “See you later, Tony! Thanks again!” Bucky shouts.

“Don’t break your suite with your arm, please!” Tony says back making Sam and Bucky laugh all the way to the elevator.

*

Bucky gets used to his new arm in time. Of course it’s strange at first when the plates adjust with his movements and the whirring noises it does with increased activity, but it’s all a matter of adapting to it. Bucky likes to smooth his right hand over the shiny metal and feel the constant warmth of the machinery, which he didn’t expect, but it’s nice not to have a freezing arm in the morning.

The metal arm gets just as much attention from Sam. His favorite thing to do now is walk up to Bucky and run both hands slowly down from Bucky’s neck all the way to his fingers where he’ll sometimes lace his fingers with Bucky’s and kiss both the flesh and metal hand.

Bruce was right though; the phantom pain doesn’t stop. In the beginning it’s worse.

One night Sam and Bucky go to bed and they lie awake for forty-five minutes. Bucky is awake from his arm and shoulder hurting and Sam is awake from Bucky’s constant moving around.

“Babe,” Sam huffs in the dark after what seems like the hundredth time Bucky’s switched positions. He rolls over once more with his head landing on Sam’s shoulder. Sam can tell Bucky is frustrated judging by the harsh breaths he feels against his throat.

“It hurts, Sam,” Bucky says, sounding more annoyed than in pain.

Sam touches his hair and scratches his scalp and Bucky hums at the contact.

“Come on, let’s get up and do those exercises,” Sam suggests. Bucky makes a disgruntled noise and snuggles in tighter against Sam.

“It’ll make the pain go away.”

Bucky gives a huge sigh and a groan, “I hate that I still have to do this”.

“I know, but if you put the work in now, you’ll get better sooner.”

“Thanks, Dr. Drew,” Bucky snorts and Sam pokes at the ticklish spot on Bucky’s side until he’s squirming away and getting out of the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed for a second before standing up and reaching his left arm behind him, wiggling the metal fingers in Sam’s general direction. “Come on then, you’re coming with me.”

Sam rolls off his side and slots his fingers with Bucky’s and lets himself get pulled into the dining room of their suite.

They have dedicated the dining room table now to Bucky’s mirror therapy. The mirror is in its usual place on the table with two chairs pushed together at the end. Bucky sits down and puts his arms on either side of the mirror, positioned so he can only see his right arm. Sam sits on the chair next to him, yawning as he rests his head on Bucky’s right shoulder.

“These exercises are so boring,” Bucky says as he starts drawing shapes on the table with his index finger and watching his hand in the mirror.

“But they help, don’t they?” Sam asks and Bucky nods. They sit in silence for a while and Sam watches Bucky with rapt attention as he goes through the list of exercises. Suddenly he gets overwhelmed with pride for Bucky because this is what shows Bucky’s strength and persistence. In the dark, no one else around or watching, dutifully doing these tedious exercises, not the actions of a war hero, but the actions of a man who is trying to feel some semblance of normal again.

“Write me a secret message,” Sam whispers as he circles his arms tight around Bucky’s waist and laces this fingers together on his hip.

Bucky spells out I love you.

“That’s not secret, I already know that,” Sam tells him, kisses Bucky’s cheek because he never gets tired of hearing it.

“This is gonna be a long one so pay attention,” Bucky instructs.

Sam follows the motion of Bucky’s index finger as he spells out the words, laying his hand flat when he’s done with each one. “I would not be able to do this without you. You are my world,” Sam says aloud. When Bucky is done he leans away a little to look at Sam’s face. They search each other’s eyes for a moment and Sam thinks he’s more in love than he thought possible.

Sam cups Bucky’s cheeks and kisses him soundly, taking his time because he can and Bucky is his and Sam feels a warmth spread inside him from head to toe. Sam looks back to the table and Bucky’s eyes follow watching as Sam draws a heart.

Bucky pulls him in for another kiss, this time invading Sam’s mouth with his tongue, turning the kiss heated and dirty. Bucky moans into Sam’s mouth and moves both hands under Sam’s shirt.

“Babe, I want you to touch me,” Bucky breathes.

“Remember what Bruce said about sensory overload?” Sam asks Bucky presses his forehead to Sam’s shoulder and groans. “Let’s cool down for a few, make sure the pain is gone for now and then I’ll take you to bed.”

“Your responsible side is cockblocking me again,” Bucky laments and Sam laughs as he rubs Bucky’s arm up and down.

“Yeah, but it’s a good thing. Remember that time Rhodey almost caught me pounding you against that tree outside of basecamp?”

Laughter bubbles out of Bucky and gets louder. “His face would’ve been priceless though,” Bucky says, wiping his eye.

They sit and talk for another half hour until Bucky realizes he isn’t absently adjusting his left arm to get into a less painful position. “The pain’s gone,” Bucky says quietly and stretches his metal arm in front of him.

“Good,” Sam leans in and whispers against Bucky’s lips, “lemme make you feel good.”

“God yes, please. I want you, Sammy,” Bucky whines and Sam drags him back into the bedroom. Sam undoes Bucky piece by piece, takes him apart, and puts him back together. By the time Bucky recovers from Sam making him come three times in two hours, his whole body is relaxed and he is out like a light against Sam’s chest. Sam falls asleep a minute later with a smile on his face.

*

It’s the third check up appointment Bucky has with Bruce and he goes alone this time. It’s early in the morning and Sam wasn’t coherent enough to even think about getting up so Bucky left him with a promise to be back soon and a kiss goodbye.

“Tony and I found a way to increase the feeling in your arm,” Bruce says.

“Can you really do that?” Bucky asks, eyes wide.

“If you want to,” Bruce smiles.

“Fuck yeah!” Bucky clears his throat, “I mean, yes, that’d be great.” Bruce just laughs and gets to work.

A little under an hour later Bucky comes back into the suite and finds Sam right where he left him, sprawled on the bed and drooling into a pillow. Bucky creeps into the room as silent as possible, takes his shoes off, and crawls next to Sam. Starting from the inside of Sam’s knee, Bucky runs his metal hand up across his thigh, his ass, and all the way to his neck and back down to his lower back. Bucky marvels at the feel of Sam’s warm skin beneath his hand, can feel him just as well with his left hand as his right now.

Sam stirs after a few minutes of Bucky’s light message, opens his eyes and relaxes again into Bucky’s touch. “Check up go well?” Sam asks sleepily as he stretches his arms.

“Mhmm,” Bucky answers and moves to straddle Sam’s butt so he can get both hands on his back. Sam straightens his legs and smiles into the pillow. He feels Bucky’s lips and stubble on the back of his neck, “beautiful,” he murmurs into Sam’s skin. He kisses from one of Sam’s shoulders to the other while rubbing his sides and up his arms. “Gorgeous. Amazing,” Bucky continues his praise.

“All yours,” Sam adds.

“All mine,” Bucky agrees. Sam shifts his hips against the bed because Bucky’s attention is going straight to his dick and he’s getting harder by the minute.

“Babe,” Sam whines and pushes his butt up insistently against Bucky.

Bucky sucks on Sam’s shoulder as he reaches his left hand under him to press against Sam’s erection. Bucky moans louder than Sam at the contact. “Oh fuck, I can feel how hot you are,” Bucky says, breathless.

“Is that your metal hand?” Sam asks and Bucky hums in agreement. That makes Sam buck his hips and grind into Bucky’s hand, hard. “Shit, that’s so hot. I want your hand on me, touch me, please,” Sam begs.

“Nuh uh, I’m running this show,” Bucky says and flips Sam onto his back. He takes a moment to take in all of Sam; flushed and breathing hard, his body toned with defined muscles from his air force training. Sam gets impatient and grabs for Bucky, he undresses quickly and rejoins Sam who is only in boxer briefs. Bucky wastes no time hooking his fingers into the briefs and shucking them off.

“Remember what I used to do to you?” Bucky asks and moves to hover over Sam, pinning him down with a heated stare. “That thing that drove you crazy?”

“Shit,” Sam curses and bites his lip; he pulls Bucky down into a heated kiss.

After a minute Bucky moves to kiss a trail from Sam’s lips to his neck, down his chest, and stops to suck a bruise on his hip. “I’m gonna take you apart,” he says and licks the new hickey, “I’m gonna make you fucking scream, baby.” Sam stares up at the ceiling as his mouth drops open.

Bucky kneels down at the foot of the bed by Sam’s feet and puts one hand on each ankle. Taking his time and worshipping every bit of skin on Sam’s legs, he kisses, licks, and sucks his way up to his inner thighs. There’s a certain spot on Sam’s right thigh that Bucky has committed to memory, so he sucks hard.

“Oh, mmm, fuck, Bucky. I could come from just that,” Sam moans and buries his hands in Bucky’s hair and scraping at his neck.

“Would love that, but that’s not my plan,” Bucky smirks at Sam as he lifts his head up for a moment. He winks at Sam then focuses his attention back on his legs. After mapping out Sam with his mouth, Bucky slowly roams his hands down the outside of Sam’s legs and then back up on the inside. He revels in the fact that he can touch and feel Sam equally with both hands now.

Sam is losing his mind, panting and grabbing at both Bucky and the sheets as he gets new hickeys and his dick is being ignored. Only when Sam rocks his hips does Bucky go for the area desperate for attention. Bucky licks one long stripe from Sam’s perineum to the tip of his dick and Sam keens under him.

“You look so good like this, babe. So desperate to be touched. God, I could this for hours, just touching you, driving you mad,” Bucky says between licks and strokes of his hand. He continues like that for a while, not enough to get Sam off, but to keep the pleasure building. Bucky digs his fingers into the V of Sam’s hips, making him moan even louder. He’s got all of Sam’s sensitive spots locked in his mind and takes full advantage.

“Buck, Jesus, I want your hand,” Sam pleads.

Bucky looks up at him, “you’ve got my hand,” he says and tightens it a little on Sam’s dick.

“Noo, the other one, I want to feel it. I bet it feels so good,” Sam replies, his voice has gone soft and quiet, already sounding spent.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sam.”

“You won’t. I trust you, just please, please touch me,” Sam caresses Bucky’s face and smooths his hands over Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky has to regroup for and second, because he wants to remember this moment, needs to memorize the fact that Sam trusts him. He cups Sam’s face and kisses him short and sweet before laying down half on his chest. He strokes his metal arm down Sam’s chest and loosely wraps his fingers around Sam’s dick. With a sigh, Sam closes his eyes and widens his legs to give Bucky a better angle.

Bucky takes a breath and lets himself be trusted and returns that trust, because he simply can’t not. Also Bucky is aroused and hard beyond belief at the thought of touching Sam with his new hand, getting a second chance at touching him for the first time. “Feel okay, baby?” Bucky asks, grip still too loose to get any friction.

“Tighter, come on, you won’t hurt me. I’ll stop you if it’s too much,” Sam says. He lays his hand flat against Bucky’s chest, feeling his heartbeat, and that helps calms Bucky’s apprehension.

It’s the slowest handjob Bucky’s ever given Sam, but he makes it good. Switches between slow and fast strokes, tight and loose grip, and Sam is fucking gone. When he comes, it’s long and hot and it makes a mess of them both. The feeling of Sam pulsing his metal hand makes Bucky come too with a low moan. He doesn’t take his hand off Sam until he’s pushed away, over sensitized but feeling satiated and heavy. They lie there in wet sheets against each other before the drying come gives them chills.

“That was amazing, babe,” Sam says and kisses Bucky. “Let me return the favor.”

“In the shower,” Bucky promises and gets up, heading into the bathroom, Sam right behind him.

*

Washington D.C.

It’s a few months after their stay at Stark Tower and they settle into their life in DC. Bucky still struggles with his PTSD and arm sometimes, but he is miles better than where he started. For now they live off their pay from serving and just bask in their boring routines. Sam does the laundry, Bucky repairs things around the apartment, and they make dinner together.

Bucky makes his way into their room and hugs Sam from behind as he finishes folding laundry. “Dinner’s ready, my love,” he says and kisses Sam’s ear.

Sam puts the shirt he’s holding down and leans back against Bucky who shifts to support his weight. “I can smell it from here, smells delicious,” Sam replies, turning to give Bucky’s jaw a kiss. “Who knew you could cook on your own?”

“Hey, I’m a big boy. I can do stuff all by myself, believe it or not,” Bucky fusses as he pokes Sam’s side.

A sudden spark of pride shoots through Sam and his mind floods with memories of what Bucky’s been through, because a little while ago, he might not have been able to make dinner on his own. He turns in Bucky’s arms and cups his jaw, looking into deep blue-gray eyes. “I know, babe. I know,” he whispers and kisses Bucky’s lips twice. “Let’s go eat.”

Their evening proceeds like any other, dinner, dishes, watch a TV show or movie on the couch until they’re ready for bed.

Sam is propped up on the headboard when Bucky finishes in the bathroom, crawling onto the bed and laying down on his side. He lays his left arm on Sam’s thigh and plays with the hem of his shirt, “What’s got you looking so pensive?”
Sam shakes himself out of his thoughts and looks from his phone to Bucky, “huh? Nothing.”

“Babe, I see your face everyday. I can tell when something serious is happening. You get this little crease in between your eyebrows,” Bucky says, reaching up to touch that spot.

“I got an email,” Sam starts. He’s not sure if he’s ready to tell Bucky that that it’s from Riley and they need him to fight with them again. But Bucky deserves one thing above all else, and that’s the truth. God forbid Sam being another source of pain and anguish for Bucky. “From Riley. He says that the team is going back in and they want me to partner with him again for the Falcon project.”

There is a palpable silence in the room. Sam doesn’t know what else to say so he just cards his hand through Bucky’s hair, hoping to relieve some tension.

Bucky breathes in deep and sighs heavily, “you can probably guess what I’m gonna say.” Sam hums in affirmation and waits for him to continue. “I don’t want you to go. We know what’s it like. How dangerous it is,” Bucky says flatly. He unconsciously reaches across Sam’s lap and holds onto his hip tightly.

“Yeah, you’re right. But they could really use me. Remember how good of a team Riley and I made?” Sam asks. Bucky just grunts in response. It’s his way of not wanting to admit Sam is right, but he also can’t deny it.

“I told him if I go back this will be the last time.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Bucky snaps and looks Sam dead in the eyes, his eyebrows are furrowed in anger and his jaw clenched tight.

“I get that, believe me I do. But this is our team, Buck. The boys need my help,” Sam explains and continues after a few moments, “Riley said the lieutenant won’t risk you again. Says you’ve done than enough.”

“But he can risk you?”

“Baby-,” Sam says, placating. He strokes his fingers along Bucky’s cheekbone to erase the worry written on his face.

“What if something happens to you? I won’t be there.”

“You know how careful I am.”

“I was too,” Bucky replies darkly and it sends dread through Sam, because he knows. Bucky was more careful than anyone.

Sam deflates and loses all energy to have this conversation any more, because he knows Bucky has a right to be worried and angry, but his loyalty to his country and team is pulling at him. “Let’s sleep on it, see how we feel about it in the morning.” He turns off the bedside lamp and slides down to wrap Bucky in his arms, stroking up and down his back. “I love you,” he whispers into Bucky’s hair.

“I love you more than anything,” Bucky says back a little wetly. They fall asleep with tension still heavy in the air.

*

Bucky woke up still wrapped tightly in Sam’s arms. He breathes deeply and serenely when the first thing he sees is dark skin and feels breath against his hair. Rubbing his cheek against Sam’s shoulder just to revel in the fact that Sam is still there with him.

The feeling of Bucky moving against him wakes Sam slowly; he yawns and opens his bleary eyes. He tightens his hold on Bucky, which earns him a sigh in contentment.

“Morning, babe,” Sam yawns, kissing Bucky’s forehead.

“Morning.” Bucky leans up to lean on an elbow and look down at Sam. “I can’t stop you from going.”

Still half asleep, Sam rubs his eye and focuses on Bucky’s serious expression, “huh?”

“Going back to Afghanistan, I can’t stop you. It’s your choice to make,” Bucky says evenly, no anger in his voice. Sam slides a hand up Bucky’s chest and rests it on his shoulder where skin meets metal.

“I made a promise to this country. And I feel like I should be there for Riley and the team,” Sam tells him.

“That’s one thing I absolutely love about you is your loyalty,” Bucky smiles. He leans down to kiss Sam sweetly.

“Always. Especially for you. I hope you know that.”

“Yes, God, Sam I know. You have been with me every step and I want you to be there for the rest.”

“I promise, I promise,” Sam breathes.

After a minute of just breathing with each other, foreheads pressed together and hands caressing, Bucky asks, “when do you leave?”

“A month,” Sam answers.

“Better make it count then,” Bucky says and Sam laughs, starting on making it count that morning.

*

It’s the night before Sam leaves for his year contract and Bucky is noticeably quiet. When the episode of House they’re watching is over, Sam pushes his face against Bucky’s neck, “bed?” Bucky just hums and pulls Sam into their bedroom.

Without a word Bucky pulls Sam on top of him once they stumble onto the bed and lets his hands roam wherever they want and his lips kiss every spot he can reach.

“What do you want, baby?” Sam asks between languid kisses.

Bucky turns his head so his mouth is at Sam’s ear, “I want you fuck me, then I want to fuck you,” he whispers hotly.

Sam groans and pushes his hips against Bucky’s, not fast or rough just enough to feel the friction. “God, I love when you talk like that. Keep talking,” Sam pleads. Bucky rolls them over and puts all his weight on Sam.

“I’ll start off slow, I know how you love that sweet torture, just shy of being enough to get off. Then when you’re begging me I’ll speed up, grab your hips hard and fuck you like the world’s ending,” Bucky says, at every pause Sam moans long and lazy, as if Bucky’s words were the same as his promised actions. He slides his metal hand down to Sam’s fly and presses against his already hard dick.

“Keep . . . talking,” Sam murmurs. His eyes are closed and he has one hand buried loosely in Bucky’s hair, not pulling just for a point of contact.

“Can you get off on just my words, sweetheart?” Bucky asks and nips and licks at Sam’s earlobe. Sam moans in response, but it’s different this time, the kind of moan he does when Bucky hits his prostate. Bucky smirks, “hmm interesting, I think I’d like to test this theory. How about I talk to you until you come in your pants and then I fuck you? Leave you all tired and loose for tomorrow so everyone will know you got fucked good.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” Sam whines and pushes into Bucky’s hand. “I’m getting close. Just- just keep fucking talking.”

“I love seeing you like this. Mainly because I’m the only who gets to and I’m a selfish bastard that way. You’re mine, Sam. No one else’s. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes, yours, I’m yours,” Sam answers through his panting.

“I bet no one has talked to you like this before. Has anyone talked you into coming?” Bucky asks, voice now just above a whisper because he’s breathing hard too.

Sam shakes his head no because he can’t form words anymore; all he knows is Bucky’s hand and voice right now.

“My poor deprived baby, well that’s gonna change. When I get done fucking you proper, I wanna ride you. I don’t want you to wear a condom,” Bucky declares and Sam’s moans are getting louder with each sentence. “That’s my favorite way to come, feeling you fill me up all wet and hot. So much it’s dripping out of me. I want you to make a mess of me, baby. I don’t have anywhere to go tomorrow, fill me up to the brim, so tomorrow when i’m driving you to the airport I’m still wet and loose from you.”

Not two seconds after Bucky says that Sam is coming hard in his pants, shuddering and panting and cursing out Bucky’s name. Bucky kisses him as he cools down, helping him out his sweaty shirt and getting his pants off.

Sam lays sprawled out on the bed and watches with dark eyes as Bucky undresses himself, “My baby is so good to me,” he says dreamily.

A spark of possessiveness shoots through Bucky, he loves hearing Sam claim him, saying he is his. “And your baby is not even close to being down with you,” he emphasizes and sprawls over Sam again, this time without the barrier of clothes.

*

Afghanistan 2011

Sam’s a few months into this contract and it’s going less than smoothly. It’s not the war or fighting that’s the problem though. He didn’t think that he would feel guilty for leaving Bucky, but with every phone call it gets worse. Eventually he comes back to emotional voicemails on his phone whenever the team does a night mission.

One memorable voicemail that started Sam’s guilt is from Bucky at three in the morning DC time.

“I can’t sleep, Sam. I get worse and worse nightmares, all of them you’re in. This- this is not fucking fair. I feel like a goddamn military wife. Fuck you for leaving. Fuck you for being so goddamn loyal. Fuck you, Sam. Fuck you. I fucking need you and you’re not here.” Bucky’s voice got more hoarse throughout the message and by the end it was shaky and weak. Sam has to take a moment to compose himself. He gets up and walks outside to call Bucky back. It’s one am his time, so it’s around three in the afternoon in DC.

The phone rings four times before Bucky picks up, he doesn’t say anything.

“Baby,” Sam whispers, not trusting his voice not to crack because he’s already on the verge of tears.

“Sammy,” Bucky says back and his voice cracks in the middle and that’s when Sam loses it. Right then Sam realizes just how much control Bucky has over his emotions. It should scare him how attached he is to Bucky, but it doesn’t because he knew straight from the beginning it would lead to this; this fierce, unrelenting, almost painful love they have for each other.

He puts his free hand over his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, “I’m so sorry, babe. I wish I could be there with you, hold you like I always do until you feel better.”

Bucky sniffs on the other end and Sam can just imagine the tears falling down his cheeks, too exhausted to keep from crying but too exhausted to full out sob either. “Come home,” Bucky manages. Two words and Sam’s heart is about to break; it aches in his chest and it’s the worst kind of pain he’s ever felt.

“I’m coming home soon,” Sam replies and they both know it’s a lie; soon means nine months. “Remember when I said you’re the strongest man I know? I still believe that. Be strong for me.”

“I can’t sleep, Sam. I haven’t slept in three days,” Bucky confesses. “I’m so fucking tired.” Tired, that word is so heavy with meanings more than just sleepy.

“I know, baby. Go to Stark tower, you get along with Tony and Bruce so well. Distract yourself,” Sam suggests even though he knows it’ll only be a temporary fix.

“It’s hard Sam,” Bucky says with a sharp edge in his voice. “We were together everyday for over a year and then you’re gone for a year. Can’t I just miss you?”

“Of course you can, baby. I just want you to be healthy about it.”

“I’ll try,” Bucky sighs.

Sam finally smiles, “I miss you more everyday”.

“You’re my world.”

“You’re mine too,” Sam replies and yawns. “I gotta go to bed. Talk soon. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bucky says and waits to hear the line go dead.

*

Things get better over the next few months. Sam and Bucky still talk on the phone regularly. Sam is ecstatic that Bucky is spending time away from their lonely apartment, at Stark tower and exploring the city. He sends pictures to Sam of some new invention of Tony’s, but mostly random stuff with a message saying, made me think you. Miss you more each day.

Sam’s life is good for a while. And then Riley falls. His world comes crashing down again. An RPG shoots one of Riley’s wings off and sends him spiraling to the ground and Sam is just a few seconds too late from catching him. Riley falls and dies within the span of a few seconds and Sam witnesses it all; carries his lifeless body to their base.

Sam doesn’t sleep anymore, doesn’t talk anymore, and doesn’t fly anymore. The lieutenant sends him home with a grave look on his face.

Of course Bucky heard the news the day Riley died. Rhodey made the call because Sam wasn’t able to say the words, Riley fell and he’s gone.

Sam flies back to DC in an anonymous seat in a 747 and drinks wine until he falls asleep. The last place he wants to be was in the air.

Bucky drives Sam’s car to the airport to pick him up, gets there an hour early and waits anxiously for Sam to walk into baggage claim.

When Sam finally walks through the gate Bucky runs up to him and crushes him into a fierce hug. Sam immediately falls slack in Bucky’s arms and buries his face in his neck. He can’t hold himself together any longer, conflicting emotions of finally being back with Bucky and the devastation of Riley pouring out him all at once. Bucky just holds Sam through his sobs and cradles the back of his head.

Despite being in the middle of a crowded baggage claim area, they don’t notice anyone around them; it’s just the two of them wrapped around each other.

When Sam calms down Bucky steps back and wipes away the tear streaks on Sam’s face. “Wanna go home, baby?”

Sam shakes his head and Bucky furrows his eyebrows, “I wanna go drink,” Sam answers plainly. Bucky doesn’t exactly approve of Sam’s decision since he already smells like wine, but he deserves this time to act on his self-destructive behavior, God knows Bucky’s been there.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll take you to the bar,” Bucky says. They get Sam’s duffle bag from the conveyor belt and walk hand in hand in the parking garage.

They get to the bar that’s close to their apartment around 10 p.m. Bucky’s made a mental note to not drink too much so he can look after Sam and drive home.

Sam drinks whiskey after whiskey and by the time he’s six deep he’s sitting halfway in Bucky’s lap with his arms wrapped around his neck. Bucky’s thankful for the corner booth he chose, because it’s tucked away in the dark, giving them some semblance of privacy.

Sam drunkenly kisses Bucky’s neck and slurs, “I missed you so fucking much. God, I want you. I missed your hands on me”.

“I want you too, babe. But we can’t do anything here,” he says against Sam’s mouth.

“Why not? It’ll be like when we first got together. I secretly loved it, getting fucked outside where anyone could see.”

Bucky clears his throat because what Sam’s saying is going straight to his dick. Right on cue, Sam’s hand palms him through his jeans and Bucky has to hold back his moan. “You love it too, it would be so easy for me to slide my hand in your jeans and jerk you off right here.”

When Sam makes a move to unbutton Bucky’s jeans, Bucky grabs his hand and pulls him up and out of the bar, leaving a couple of twenties on the table.

The front door barely gets closed and Bucky’s slamming Sam against it, mouth latching onto his neck to leave dark bruises. They grind together lacking all grace, just urgency dictating their actions.

Sam chants, “I need you, I need you,” over and over again as Bucky works his jeans and briefs off.

Bucky pauses as he holds Sam against his body, “Are you sure you want this now, baby? You’ve had a bit to drink”.

Sam grunts in annoyance, “Buck, your hands are on my bare ass, now is not the time to be a gentleman.” He pauses to kiss Bucky slow, tongue lazily sweeping in and across Bucky’s mouth. When he feels a little more sober he says in Bucky’s ear, “I’m sure. I don’t want to feel anything but you. Make me forget everything else.”

“I can do that,” Bucky answers breathlessly. “How do you want it?”

“Here. Fuck me right here. I want it hard and fast,” Sam moans and grinds his dick against the bulge in Bucky’s jeans.

Bucky opens his fly and pushes his jeans and underwear down far enough to get his leaking dick out. As he ruts against Sam, Bucky sucks two fingers into his mouth until they’re dripping with saliva and prepares Sam slowly.

“Babe, get my wallet in my back pocket, it has a condom in it,” Bucky breathes. Sam retrieves the condom and drops Bucky’s wallet onto his own discarded jeans.

“So eager to get in me huh?” Sam chuckles.

“Always. You make me insatiable.” Bucky quickly adds a third finger into Sam to stretch a little more while Sam rolls the pre-lubed condom onto Bucky. “Ready for me?”

“Was ready at the bar, get in me already,” Sam groans. Bucky lifts Sam up and balances most of his weight on his metal arm, because it can take and slides slowly into Sam while he wraps his arms and legs tight around Bucky.

They get a rhythm going and soon Bucky’s pounding Sam against the door, making it squeak and groan under the abuse. They don’t bother being quiet, all pent up want with a little help of alcohol adding to their loud moans. They don’t last long, Sam coming first and Bucky following him as Sam clenches hard around him.

Bucky’s legs give out and they collapse in a heap onto the floor, bodies heavy and satiated. They fall asleep like that; Bucky’s pants still shoved below his ass and Sam just in a come stained shirt.

When they wake up in the morning Sam’s hungover, his shoulders ache from being banged against the door and they have a noise complaint notice that was slid under their door. Bucky tugs Sam up and pushes him into the shower, hugging and breathing him in, feeling like his world has been set right again.

*

As soon as Bucky feels like he has gotten control of his PTSD, making progress by learning ways to help himself, Sam comes back six months early from war worse than either of them were before.

Sam has the most trouble sleeping, having the same recurring nightmare, much like Bucky’s flashback nightmares. Bucky plays the loyal boyfriend role and stays up with him, being close and rubbing his back or keeping his distance, whatever Sam needs.

One night Bucky wakes up and Sam’s not in bed; it’s a rare occurrence for Sam to get up and leave the room without Bucky waking up too. He walks out to the living room and sees Sam on the couch with his head in his hands and a half full bottle of whiskey on the table.

He walks so his footsteps are heard comes up behind the couch. “Babe,” is all Bucky says in the quiet dark. Sam sighs and drops his hands but doesn’t look at Bucky. “I thought you promised me you were gonna stop drinking when you get a nightmare.”

Bucky remembers when Sam promised him that; he woke up from a particularly bad nightmare and drank himself into a rage. Bucky had to push him against a wall and pin both of Sam’s hands with his metal hand above his head and hold him there until he calmed down. They both broke down into tears and ended up with Sam promising over and over that he’d stop.

“Bucky, this is how I cope, alright? I never said anything about your fucking smoking,” Sam snaps and Bucky has to consciously school his emotions so he doesn’t snap right back at Sam like he wants to.

“I quit because I knew it bothered you,” Bucky says.

“Whatever, it’s just one drink.”

“That bottle was three quarters full, that’s a big drink, Sam.”

“Why don’t you leave me the fuck alone, huh? I don’t need you to lecture me,” Sam grunts and takes another sip.

As much as Bucky wants to retaliate and argue with Sam, he’s right. Sam doesn’t need a lecture or for Bucky to scold him, he needs a supportive and loving boyfriend. Also he doesn't want to start a fight. So Bucky bites his tongue and says, “okay,” and walks back into the bedroom.

Bucky sits up on the bed and looks at his phone knowing he won’t be able to sleep until Sam comes back to bed. About a half hour later Sam appears in the doorway and leans against the jamb. He meets Bucky’s patient gaze and then drops his gaze to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Buck,” he says roughly.

Bucky slides out of bed, cupping Sam’s jaw and stroking his cheekbones when he gets to him. “It’s okay. You’re gonna have to do a lot worse to make me mad at you.”

“I’m not handling this as well as I thought,” Sam admits.

“Come with me,” Bucky tells Sam and pulls him by the hand back into the living room. He goes to a small record player and puts on a record. He turns to Sam who looks confused at the old fashioned thing. “I got this at a really hipster store called Urban Outfitters,” Bucky laughs. “I like the sound of the background static with the modern music, makes it feel like a dream.”

Bucky puts on the needle and slow melodic guitar chords fill the quiet room. He turns to Sam and wraps one arm around his waist, his other hand going back to Sam’s face. “Maybe it’ll help sooth your nightmares,” he smiles softly, nothing but love in his eyes and Sam can’t help but kiss him chastely. He lays his head on Bucky’s shoulder and closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders.

They sway slowly to the slow chords coming from the record player while Bucky sings along softly in Sam’s ear.

I know places we can go babe
I know places we can go babe
The high won't fade here babe
No, the high won't hurt here babe

I know places we can go babe
I know places we can go babe
Where the highs won't bring you down babe
No, the highs won't hurt you there babe

Don't ask me when but ask me why
Don't ask me how but ask me where
There is a road, there is a way
There is a place, there is a place

Sam wishes for this to go on forever. For the first time in a long time he feels relaxed and weightless. He thought it would be impossible, but Bucky has found a way to pull him out of his thoughts and remind him that he is loved and cherished.

From that night on, Sam replaces drinking with either slow dancing with Bucky to the record player or just curling up on the couch, letting the music and his boyfriend chase away his bad thoughts. The nightmares come less and less often after that.

*

Washington D.C. 2014

The past two years have been good to Bucky and Sam, both making huge progress with their PTSD. Sam even finished his psychology degree he started before he went to war and got his counseling license. He’s working at a VA in the city to help returning veterans with their PTSD. Bucky got a job as a curator and tour guide at the science and technology museum. His favorite part is giving school tours because the kids go crazy over his metal arm.

One day Sam is on his morning jog before work, around the Washington monument and Capitol building when he keeps getting lapped by an inhumanly fast blonde guy. It turns out to be none other than Steve Rogers. Before he knows it Captain America himself is helping him stand after the run; he’d be more stunned if he wasn’t so out of breath.

After small talking for a few minutes and learning that Steve is just a normal guy Sam says, “you should come down to the VA sometime”.

“Maybe I will,” Steve smirks and looks over his shoulder. “Well my ride is here. Thanks, Sam for the run, if that’s what you wanna call running.”

Sam laughs as he shakes Steve’s hand, “Oh, that’s how it is?”

“Oh, that’s how it is,” Steve confirms and gets into a sleek black Corvette with a mysterious redhead and speeds off. Sam watches the car disappear and his mind catches up with him; he can’t wait to tell Bucky.

A few days later Sam sees Steve in the hallway of the VA after his group session.

They get to talking and Steve asks, “What brought you to working here?”

“I fought in Afghanistan, started off as a pilot then moved onto a specialized project. The first contract, my Sergeant, Bucky, boyfriend now, picked up a bomb and he lost his left arm. During my second contract, I lost my wingman, Riley. An RPG knocked his dumbass out of the sky,” Sam explains. “Both times it was like I was just up there to watch.”

Steve’s face never changes from the sincere and intent look he has while listening to Sam.

“Bucky’s the reason I’m here helping people and not in a psyche ward. We’ve been with each other through everything and plan on staying that way,” Sam smiles big and Steve’s eyes soften like he knows exactly what that feels like.

“Does Bucky happen to have a metal arm?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, Tony Stark made it for him right after the bomb accident.”

“I’ve heard Tony and Bruce talk about him, I’ve never met him but I’ve only heard good things.” Sam’s smile widens with pride. “I’d like to meet him.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Sam says.

*

It’s a few weeks until Sam sees Steve again. What he doesn’t expect is for Steve to show up on his doorstep unannounced and dirty.

“I’m really sorry about this, Sam but I don’t anywhere to go,” Steve explains when Sam opens the door. “Everyone is acting like I’m a fugitive and trying their best to kill me.”

“Not everyone. Come in,” Sam says quickly. Steve does and Sam shuts and locks the door.

After he takes a much needed shower, Steve explains what’s happened with SHIELD and how it’s been compromised. He looks down at the dining room table like he’s lost and out of options. Sam grabs the Falcon project folder and tosses it in front of Steve.

Steve opens it and looks at the picture on top, “is this Riley?”

“Yeah,” Sam nods.

“I thought you said you specialized as a pilot?” Steve asks.

“I never said pilot,” Sam smirks.

Just then Bucky comes in and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Steve. “Holy shit,” Bucky says under his breath.

Sam walks up to him and plants a kiss on Bucky’s cheek, “Babe, this is my friend Steve. Or Captain America.” Steve smiles and ducks his head. “And he seems to be in a bit of trouble. I think he could use some help.”

Steve stands from his seat and looks between Bucky and Sam, “Sam, I can’t ask you to do this. You said you’re happy being out.”

“Captain America needs my help, there’s no better reason to get back in,” Sam says and look to Bucky who has wide eyes and nods in agreement.

Steve walks up to Bucky; “you must be Bucky, then. Steve Rogers,” he tells Bucky and shakes his hand.

“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky says in return as he grips the back of Sam’s shirt tightly to keep himself grounded.

“Sam if you’re serious about this, I can help you get whatever you need. And Bucky, I don’t know much about you, but what I hear from Tony and how Sam’s face lights up whenever he talks about you, I can assume you’re on the right side.”

“Always have been,” Bucky agrees Steve smiles.

“I need to make a plan of action. If you’re up for it, I can use all the help I can get, Sergeant,” Steve says and pride fills Bucky at hearing his old title.

“Like Sam said, no better reason to get back in.”