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It had been a week and a half since the big fight at the GRC meeting in New York, and Sam was finally home in Delacroix after sitting in on hours of boring government briefings and policy meetings. He didn’t even need to be there for most of them - barely anything productive happened and he could proudly say he was now an expert in sleeping while sitting upright with his eyes open. Thankfully he was done with all of that.
Sarah had picked him up from the airport, and she was talking about their plans for this weekend but truthfully he wasn’t listening. Sam was content to take in his surroundings and breathe in that salty air. It was good to be back. But Sarah apparently did not plan to leave him in his peace for long.
“-And you should invite your boyfriend,” Sarah finished, shaking Sam out of his thoughts.
“What?” he spluttered.
“I said, you’re going to have to help me prep for the barbecue on Sunday. And that you should invite your boyfriend,” she repeated with a smirk.
“He is not-” They pulled into the driveway of Sarah’s place, and AJ and Cass were already bounding down the porch stairs to greet Sam by the time he had the truck door open.
“Uncle Sam!” AJ yelled, “Uncle Sam, are you coming to the cookout?”
“Can you teach us how to use the grill?” Cass asked.
“Can we help fish?” AJ asked.
“Is Uncle Bucky coming?” Cass threw in.
“Whoa slow down, can you- hold up, Uncle Bucky? Since when is he Uncle Bucky? Sam shot a look at Sarah and stepped out of the truck, turning back to the boys. “Can you let a man put his bags inside first? Before you start badgering him with questions?”
“We can carry your bags!” AJ said.
Cass’ eyes lit up. “Yeah! I can take your suit!”
“No Cass, I wanna take the suit!”
“No, I’ll carry the suit, it’ll be too heavy for you guys. But you can both carry this one.” Sam handed them his duffel, and they ran to put it in his room. As soon as they were out of earshot, Sam turned back to Sarah.
“They’ve been calling him Uncle Bucky since he came by and helped with the boat,” she explained.
“Well, he’s not my boyfriend,” he huffed, cheeks warm.
Sarah raised her eyebrows at him, “Whatever he is. Invite him,” and walked towards the house.
Damn. Was he that obvious? Then again, he never could hide anything from Sarah. He’d done a pretty good job, he thought, of keeping his feelings under wraps when they had a fight to fight. He didn’t need this crush distracting him, or worse, making things weird between him and Bucky. The guy probably didn’t even feel the same way.
Sam stalled for a moment, staring at his phone while his thumbs hovered in uncertainty above the screen. What if Bucky didn’t want to come? What if he wanted to stay in New York? After all, they did say they were just co-workers. They hadn’t really talked all that much since that last fight.
Well, except for the other day when Bucky sent him a picture of a cute cat that had been hanging around his building.
And another video of said cat yesterday morning.
Yeah, he should invite him down again. But what would he even say? Should he call? Should he text? Would it be weird now that they weren’t on a mission?
“I can practically hear you overthinking from here. You want me to call him? Since you’re too shy” Sarah goaded him from the porch.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Nah, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”
He typed and deleted and re-typed three different messages before settling on one that didn’t give away just how much he was hoping Bucky would accept the invite. And if he felt the need to check his phone every five minutes after that, he pretended he didn’t.
Wilson family cookout: Sunday at 4 pm. AJ and Cass want to know more about your metal arm.
Bucky had had a plane ticket booked before he even responded to Sam’s text. Before he could think too much about it and scare himself out of going. Did Sam want him there? Did AJ and Cass convince him to invite Bucky over? It’s not like they talked a lot. Sam sent him a video of Redwing Jr. flying the other day just to spite him, and he only updated Sam once about the cat in his complex.
Okay, maybe twice. In two days.
And maybe he wanted to text him or call him more often but he didn’t want to bombard the guy. After all, he was busy helping Sarah with the kids and the boat, and he only saw Bucky as a co-worker. At least that’s what Bucky thought, and he didn’t want to make any assumptions, no matter how much he enjoyed Sam’s company.
Either way, he texted Sam that he’d be there, packed a bag, and now it was Sunday afternoon and he’d rented a car at the airport and he was on his way to the Wilson home. But he wasn’t going to show up empty-handed, like an idiot. So here he found himself, in a bakery in town, staring at the glass window of goods wondering what kind of cake was Sam’s favourite.
There were so many to choose from. He’d never seen Sam eat cake before. Hell, Bucky had never even had a conversation with Sam about cake. But it was a safe bet for a barbecue that most people there would probably enjoy.
After a few minutes of staring at all the choices, and letting a few other customers skip his turn at the register, Bucky bit the bullet and pulled his phone out of his pocket to make a call.
“Hey Sarah, it's Bucky.”
“Oh hi! You’re coming to the cookout today right? Sam will be so happy” She said.
“Yeah, I was just calling to, uh,” he rubbed a hand over his face. “I had to drop by the store and thought I’d pick something up for today. Just wanted to ask, what’s Sam’s favourite type of cake?”
“You’re bringing a cake? That’s so cute. He usually likes chocolate cake with regular whipped cream frosting. You gonna be here soon?” she asked.
“You’re a lifesaver, and yeah I think I’m about twenty minutes out,’’ he said.
“Great! See you soon. Boys! don’t touch the-” and the call ended abruptly.
Bucky picked out the biggest chocolate-cake-with-whipped-cream the bakery had, and the guy behind the counter called it a classic so he figured he picked well.
Driving in, he glanced over at the cake sitting in the passenger seat of the car, as if it was going to give him its own opinion about being bought. Was it weird to bring cake? It wasn’t anyone’s birthday (that he knew of) but fuck it. The cake was here and he was going to see Sam and bring Sam the cake. And see everyone else too. Not just Sam. But mainly Sam.
Sam will be so happy.
He sure hoped so.
By the time he pulled into the driveway, his pulse was going a little too quick for him to ignore. He grabbed the cake and his keys and started towards the big group on the lawn, but Cass and AJ spotted him first, racing towards him with a mischievous gleam in their eyes and throwing punches as soon as he was within reach.
“Think fast, Uncle Bucky!” and his heart swelled.
“AAAH” he yelled, feigning defeat as he tried to fight off their giggle attacks. “I brought you guys something, let me just set it down, yeah?”
“Cake?” Cass asked excitedly, eyes wide.
“Uh-huh. Uncle Sam likes this one, right?” Bucky asked.
AJ nodded, and Cass wandered off to find Sarah, presumably to ask how early they could have dessert. Meanwhile, AJ hung around as he greeted a few of the neighbours who helped out with the boat, and Carlos handed Bucky a beer out of the cooler. As soon as he turned around again and took a swig, AJ piped up.
“Mom called you Uncle Sam’s boyfriend yesterday. Are you?” Bucky immediately choked on his beer.
“AJ, what did I tell you about asking rude questions?” Sarah admonished, appearing next to Carlos, but she looked a little too amused for Bucky to take her seriously. Carlos tried (and failed) to stifle his laugh behind his bottle.
“Uh, no, no I’m not,” he said, coughing beer out of his lungs with watery eyes.
AJ sighed dramatically. “Aw, man.”
Bucky patted his head lightly, and caught Sam’s eye from around the grill. “How about you two guard this thing for me okay? Gonna go say hi to your uncle.”
He pretended not to hear Cass when he whispered loudly, “I think they’re boyfriends but it's a secret.”
Sam had handed over the tongs to someone else and was already making his way over to see him with a massive grin on his face. His eyes were a little brighter, smile a little wider (Bucky didn’t even think that it was possible for Sam to smile bigger than he usually did, but here he was), and in Bucky’s eyes at least, he had never looked better.
“Buck! The fossil decided to finally show up!” he said, walking towards him with outstretched arms and looking a little too proud of himself.
“I know you stole that joke from Natasha, gets old fast,” Bucky said with a smile he couldn’t help, sinking into Sam’s strong hug.
“You’re a hundred and six years old, I’m allowed to make old jokes. You hungry? I’ll get you a plate.”
The cookout was fun. They spent the rest of the evening eating and talking to everyone, and Bucky spent a better part of the night telling stories that he’d collected over the years. The boys were especially interested in how well he knew the other Avengers.
“If you live in New York, do you know Spider-man? Do you go on missions with him” Cass asked, eyes wide.
“Don’t get me started. As a matter of fact, I do know him; we both do. And he’s a little punk so I avoid him at all costs” Bucky said sternly. It was a lie; as much as he pretended to dislike him, he did keep tabs on the kid, just to make sure he was doing okay after everything that had happened in the last year.
“Can you tell him we say hi next time you see him?” AJ asked excitedly.
“Well,” Bucky pretended to mull it over, “I’ll see what I can do.”
He was surprised at how easy this felt; at how no one had any reservations with him hanging out here. Granted, he was great with kids, great with people in the forties, but naturally his past as the Winter Soldier followed him around like a persistent raincloud. But here, for once, he didn’t have to hide. He didn’t have to wear his gloves, he could roll up his sleeves, and no one batted an eye. People trusted him not to be dangerous, and for the first time since he left Wakanda, he felt almost normal. He felt like he belonged.
The kids even tried to test his arm, hanging from it as long as they could, in awe of his strength. Actually it was less of a question of how long he could hold them, and more of a question of how many hyper kids could hold onto his arm at once, but either way he was delighted to let them play around.
And maybe he would try to ignore the flutters in his chest at the way Sam was fondly smiling up at him.
Eventually, as the evening wound down and they had mostly cleaned up, he found himself staring out at the water from the deck of the boat. He leaned back against the cabin, letting himself enjoy the view of the sun dipping below the horizon.
“For a super soldier you’re pretty hard to find sometimes.” he looked over and Sam was leaning against the side of the dock, two plates of cake in hand. “Mind if I join you?”
Bucky moved over and patted the spot on the bench next to him with a smile. Sam clambered into the boat and settled next to him, just close enough for their thighs to be touching, and handed over a place and fork.
“It’s nice out here, ain’t it?” Sam asked, taking a bite of his cake.
“Amazing. I never get anything like this in Brooklyn. Too many buildings, too many people.”
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the view and each other’s company. The sky was almost completely dark, the boat and dock lit by a few scattered lamps.
“Good choice by the way,” Sam said, setting his empty plate down and leaning back. “Lucky guess?”
Bucky could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, “No, I- uh, I called Sarah and asked.” He chanced a look over at Sam, who had the absolute most smug look on his face, looking out at the water.
“You already knew, just pulling my fucking leg, huh. Asshole,” he said. “What was I supposed to do, guess? And accidentally get you your least favourite cake at your own cookout?”
Sam threw his head back in laughter, and clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Alright, Sarah let it slip earlier. Look at you, all soft. Didn’t think you cared this much.”
“I don’t, I’m just nice. Am I not allowed to be nice?” Bucky said with feigned annoyance, not missing how Sam’s hand lingered.
“Sure, sure.” Sam settled his arm over Bucky’s shoulders, a comforting weight. Was this Sam testing the waters? Instinctively Bucky leaned into him, moving almost imperceptibly closer.
“I’m really glad you made it out for this. Everyone loves having you around,” Sam said. Bucky felt his hesitation in the pause before he added, “Myself included. As much as I hate to admit it.”
Bucky hoped Sam couldn’t feel his heart skip a beat in his chest. He wrapped his right arm around Sam’s waist. “I like being here too.”
“How long are you here for?” Sam asked.
How long do you want me here for? “I don’t know, I think a couple days. Your couch still available?”
Sam chuckled, “I think so. Come on, let’s head back. Everyone’s already cleared out. I think Sarah’s already putting the boys to bed.”
Sarah looked over at the couch, gears turning in her head. Sam would be back with Bucky soon, and the boys were already asleep. Cass had just moved into the guest room so both the boys could have their own rooms, and Sam had probably offered Bucky the couch again. But if she knew one thing about her brother, it was that sometimes he needed a little push.
Sam had a double bed in his room anyway. Just enough space for two superheroes.
She eyed the pitcher of fruit punch on the counter, all sugary and bright red. A stain like that on the couch would mean she’d probably have to wash it and leave it out in the sun for a whole day.
It would be a shame, she thought, if someone were to spill some.
Sam wondered, on their way back to the house, if it was too much to grab Bucky’s hand and hold it while they walked. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t replaying the feeling of Bucky’s arm around his waist in his head. Or that he didn’t notice the smiles or little glances Bucky kept throwing his way. He brought his favourite cake, for god’s sake. And maybe he hadn’t known Bucky all that long, hadn’t really known him very long at all, but he knew enough to know he wouldn’t have come down to Delacroix unless he actually cared.
Too late now, Sam lamented, as they neared the house. Sarah stepped out to greet them.
“We may have a slight problem.”
“What happened?” Sam asked as they stepped inside.
“So there may have been a little accident and the leftover fruit punch may have spilled… on the couch.”
He and Bucky exchanged a look.
“All of it.” Sam deadpanned, giving Sarah a suspicious look.
“The whole jug,” Sarah nodded, with the best poker face Sam had ever seen. “I’m going to have to hose it down tomorrow and leave it out to dry. In the meantime, I’m sure you boys can figure something out. Sam has a double bed. Night!” She retreated slowly towards the stairs as she spoke, leaving them dumbfounded in the living room.
“Sarah!” Sam called after her.
“Hmm?” she said noncommittally, not bothering to come back downstairs.
“I cannot believe her,” Sam muttered to himself, walking upstairs.
“Sam, it’s fine, I’m sure there are rooms open at a hotel somewhere,” Bucky suggested, following him into his room.
“No, no, don’t worry about it, you can sleep here. I’ll take the floor. I’m sure we have a sleeping bag around here somewhere.”
“I am not letting you sleep on the floor at your own house. I can take the floor, I sleep on the floor all the time at my apartment.”
“No, that’s- wait you sleep on the floor at home?” Sam asked. “Never mind. This bed’s not too soft, you’ll be more comfortable here. I didn’t invite you over for you to sleep on the cold ground.”
Sam was about to go find this stupid sleeping bag when Bucky caught him by the elbow.
“Why don’t we just share then?”
Sam’s breath hitched in his throat. “Are you okay with that?”
“More than okay,” Bucky said. “Are you okay with it?”
Sam’s heart was racing a little too much, and he suspected Bucky’s was too. “Oh, I’m definitely okay with it.”
“Good,” Bucky said with a cheeky smile.
“I’m going to get ready for bed. You know where the upstairs bathroom is.”
Sam was already in bed before Bucky was back, and spent a whole minute wondering if this was a step too far when Bucky appeared in the doorway, hair damp and in a soft looking t-shirt.
“Is there anywhere I can put this?” he asked awkwardly, pointing to his left arm.
Sam burst out into quiet laughter, “The closet or the nightstand is fine, wherever you want. But hurry up, I need my beauty sleep.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say you need it, but happy to oblige” Bucky replied, flipping off the lights and getting under the covers.
Much to Sam’s chagrin, Bucky left at least a half-foot of space between them.
“What, you don’t like to cuddle?” He could have sworn he saw Bucky’s face redden, despite only the dim moonlight streaming in through the window.
“I don’t want to invade your space,” he said.
“Buck. You’re never invading my space, get over here.”
Bucky scooched over, securely wrapping his right arm around Sam’s waist and burying his face in his chest to get comfortable. Sam slid his thigh between Bucky’s, bringing them even closer. There was no better feeling, he thought, than in this moment right here, with Bucky tucked into his side.
Bucky lifted his head slightly. If their proximity had been waxing and waning all day, it was overwhelming now. They both held still for the longest second, and then Sam decided fuck it, and tipped his head forward tentatively, letting Bucky lean in a bit too, before moving again and pressing his lips tenderly against Bucky’s.
They moved incrementally, Sam hand finding Bucky’s face and holding it gently to his, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb and running his hand through Bucky’s short hair before parting for breath. They lay there, breathing in sync for barely a few seconds before Bucky leaned down and kissed Sam gently again.
“I hope you plan on doing this tomorrow too,” Sam said when they pulled away again.
“How could I not,” Bucky replied, and Sam could feel the smile playing on his lips. “Goodnight, Sam.”
“Goodnight, Buck.” Bucky settled against him, his breaths levelling out within a few minutes. Sam kissed the top of his head before his eyes too began to shut.
The next morning, Sam awoke early and took in his surroundings through bleary eyes. The house was quiet, and by the look of the light dawn sky, the sun had just barely risen. Bucky was sleeping the same as last night, arm draped over Sam’s torso and head on his chest.
Sam smiled. Bucky rarely looked so relaxed, and Sam hoped he was sleeping well. He wasn’t going to interrupt that today, so he decided he’d let himself sleep in a little and dozed off again, thinking to himself that everything he saw before him was exactly how he would like to spend his Monday mornings.
Yeah, he could get used to this.