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Since becoming Captain America, this may be the dumbest shit Sam has ever done. But he wanted a night out. One where he didn’t have to pose for thirty selfies and sign people’s sneakers or forearms with whatever shitty pen they could find. Where he didn’t have to fake-smile through an elderly man’s proclamation about history changing right before his eyes.
He just wanted a normal night out and Halloween seemed like the perfect pick when he found a bar hosting a costume party. So, yeah, Sam decided to wear a full-concealing, goblin mask that hides every inch of his face. It’s quite ugly. The rest of him is decked out in dark green. Suede, forest green suit pants and a long-sleeve, green turtle neck. A goblin has got to dress up sometime.
He’s not going to win the costume contest and he doesn’t want to. His whole goal tonight is to relax in the glorious anonymity. Maybe dance a little dirty with a guy and if he’s lucky, find a dark enough room for him to take his mask off and make out with someone.
The night isn’t going as stellar as he’d hoped. Almost every guy has resorted to teasing Sam into taking the mask off. And when Sam flinches away, dragging the mask back down after they attempt to slip it off, they all think he has something to hide.
He is trying to hide. He’s Captain America. And unfortunately, the more he hides behind his goblin mask all night, the more guilty he feels.
He’s starting to wonder whether this was a good idea or not. Beyond all the challenges, he’s grateful to hold the title, proud of all the lives he saves, and all the good he’s done. Maybe a drop of anonymity for one night isn’t worth all this.
Sam’s train of thought stops dead in its tracks when he recognizes a familiar face in the crowd. Of course, Bucky Barnes — possibly more famous than him — couldn’t be bothered with a costume. He’s merely wearing a jacket and gloves. If anything, it’s Bucky’s everyday attire.
The alcohol must be warping Sam’s common sense because something about Bucky is different tonight. He’s not sure if it’s the brown leather jacket he’s sporting or the way his hair seems to fall perfectly tonight. Maybe it’s the right amount of stubble on his face or the low light reflecting off his jaw. It doesn’t make any sense because his face hasn’t changed overnight, his hair couldn’t have grown more than a millimeter and yet he looks… so good.
Sam realizes how much he’s staring and finds himself embarrassed. He straightens up, chugs down the rest of his drink, and saunters over.
Bucky turns to him with a blank expression. Sam’s still wearing the mask but he assumes the moment he speaks, Bucky will recognize his voice.
“Who are you supposed to be?” Sam asks.
“Someone who wears a leather jacket,” Bucky supplies.
“That’s boring.”
“What are you?”
“A goblin, clearly,” Sam motions to his face.
“Clearly,” Bucky repeats, unphased. Then his eyes dart down Sam’s body and back up. “Could I buy the goblin a drink?”
Surely, Bucky knows it’s him.
“You can’t even see my face,” Sam jokes anyhow.
“Yeah, what a shame,” Bucky sighs, blatantly staring at Sam’s chest. The turtleneck is very fitted, a purposeful choice but it wasn’t meant for Bucky.
He realizes now that finding Bucky at a costume party, of all places, was not on his bingo card tonight. Bucky doesn’t even like bars that play music too loud. He strictly goes to bars that are quiet and empty. Sam has the urge to tease him about this but there’s something fun about playing strangers for once. He doesn’t want to give up the game just yet.
“The goblin will have a beer.”
Bucky smiles, an endearing half smile like he’s almost surprised Sam agrees. He moves to the bar and Sam follows. Bucky orders them both beers and then turns to cheers with him.
“To the man in green,” Bucky says, they clink their bottles and both take a gulp.
Sam has to lift the edge of his mask to reach his mouth. And he’s waiting for the line that every guy has been saying all night: “Take that off, let me see you.”
But Bucky doesn’t say it. Probably because he knows it’s Sam.
Bucky looks at him, leaning an elbow on the bar.
“Must be weird being here on Earth,” Bucky quips.
Sam laughs as he pulls the mask back down his face.
“What’s your kind into, anyway?”
“Same as your kind,” Sam plays along. “Except we like to eat our mates.”
“Huh,” Bucky considers this. “So, how many times do you get to enjoy them before you eat them?”
Sam can’t help himself. “Well, by eating… I mean, of course, both pleasurable and carnal.”
Bucky licks his lips into a smirk.
Sam blinks under the mask. That was more attractive than it should’ve been and he’s not sure why it’s having such an effect on him now. Bucky must have licked his lips in the eight months they’ve been working together. And he’s smirked a thousand times. Mostly, Sam rolls his eyes when he does because Bucky’s making a dumb joke he thinks is funny. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes he’s just being an asshole.
“Then, I like to eat my mates too,” Bucky offers.
He must recognize him, Sam thinks, but he’s flirting. Maybe it’s part of the game, Sam quickly determines. To see how far Sam’s willing to play.
“I’m glad our species have something in common,” Sam raises his beer.
“Well, to be clear. I’m not all human,” Bucky says, staring at the green silicone of Sam’s mask too intensely. He can’t even see Sam’s eyes, there’s a net covering the eye slits.
Sam’s so thankful his face is hidden. Game or not, he’s so utterly unprepared to experience Bucky Barnes flirting — and why is it kinda working?
“Wanna see?” Bucky asks huskily.
Sam finds himself nodding and following Bucky out a side door that leads to the back alleyway. There, Bucky walks Sam into the brick wall. Sam’s breath knocks out of him. He’s forgetting about the game, he’s forgetting about their partnership and friendship over the last eight months. All he wants is Bucky’s mouth on him.
“You know, I’ve been looking to meet other species,” Bucky grins.
His fingertips tease the bottom seam of Sam’s mask, under his chin, but he doesn’t lift it. He lets his hands skim downward, cupping Sam’s sides and sliding down his ribs. It makes Sam shiver. If this is still a game, he’s definitely losing.
“Hate to break it to you but I’m actually human,” Sam says.
“You’re nothing like I’ve ever seen,” Bucky croons, his eyes follow his own hands as they pull the bottom of Sam’s turtleneck out from his belt, untucking it, and then pushing it up to reveal Sam’s bare torso inch by inch.
Sam’s frozen with want. He lets Bucky do as he pleases and he’s very much hoping for more.
Bucky drops to his knees then, a move that makes Sam nearly gasp. Not because he’s never done this but because it’s Bucky and it’s unbelievably hot nevertheless.
Bucky kisses Sam’s stomach, leaving a wet trail up his abs. It’s odd how romantic this feels when they’re alone in an alley next to the bar’s trashcans. Still, Sam can appreciate it. His eyes shut as Bucky makes his way to Sam's nipples, sucking on each one until his lips travel to Sam’s neck. He’s reaching for the mask again and once more, his hands tease at the seam.
“Can I?” he asks.
Sam’s at a loss for words. Doesn’t he know? Is this a test… will they keep going if he takes the mask off?
When Sam doesn’t answer, Bucky takes that as his answer and carefully lifts the mask off Sam’s face.
Sam closes his eyes as the goblin face is removed. When he opens them, Bucky’s staring at the mask in his hand.
“Hideous,” Bucky tuts before tossing it to the ground. Then, he turns back to Sam and he’s not remotely surprised when he sees him, his unrevealed face. He knew.
Sam scoffs and tries to make light of the situation just in case this was all just a game.
“I wasn’t sure if you recognized me.”
“As if I wouldn’t recognize Captain America's ass,” Bucky grins.
“That’s how you knew?”
“Also your voice, how you smell.”
Sam blinks, baffled.
“I have heightened senses,” Bucky rolls his eyes.
“Don’t mean you gotta remember a guy’s smell.”
“Well. I remember,” Bucky states simply.
They’re staring at each other and Bucky hasn’t stepped back to create any space. Sam’s shirt is awkwardly tucked under his armpits meaning his whole torso is still on display. But now, Bucky’s eyes drop down to his lips.
“Why would you ever hide this pretty face?” Bucky whispers.
It’s the moment Sam finally realizes this isn’t a game. Bucky knew it was him all along, but he wasn’t playing along. He was actually flirting.
Sam flushes with desire, he steps forward and kisses him. Bucky shoves him against the bricks, kissing him more passionately than Sam expected.
Sam can’t help himself, he wraps both arms around him and tugs him closer. Bucky moans into his mouth, sounding strained and beautiful. It makes Sam’s blood pulse, his fingers dig into Bucky’s jacket, not letting him go.
Their tongues meet in a heated flurry. It’s so distracting that Sam barely feels Bucky undoing the fly of his pants until he cups him through his underwear. Sam groans, biting it back quickly when he remembers they’re outside.
“We’re really gonna do this here?” Sam pants.
“Our place is twenty minutes away.”
“Yeah, but we have a place,” Sam insists.
Bucky backs up then, taking his lips with him and making Sam let out a heavy sigh.
“You wanna go back?” Bucky asks.
Sam looks at him. Of course, he wants to use their shared apartment and a nice bed over the hard brick of a public alley but he also can’t imagine waiting another second.
He pulls Bucky back to him by the collar of his shirt, kisses him filthy and hard.
“Fine, quick. To hold us off. Then we go home,” Sam orders.
Bucky sucks in a sharp breath like those words are more than he can handle. But he gets the message and shoves his hand down Sam’s pants again. Sam bites back a moan as he grabs the waistband of Bucky’s jeans and yanks him closer to get them open.
It’s so rushed and urgent, they get each other off faster than Sam does every morning in the shower. But Sam’s never been so impatient. It’s as if every patient bone in his body is painfully aroused and needs to be rubbed aggressively. Much like Bucky is doing for him.
The best part is when Bucky comes. Which he does first, not that Sam’s bragging. He somehow looks completely spent and utterly thankful at the same time. His entire face floods with relief as his mouth falls open and he stutters another pretty moan.
When he’s done, he breathes like he’s exhausted. But Sam only has another moment to admire the look on his face because Bucky gets back to pumping Sam so fast, his eyes are rolling back for a whole new reason.
Bucky slouches against Sam’s chest. They’re panting heavily against each other, too lazy to even re-dress themselves yet.
Bucky’s mouth is so close to his that Sam can’t help but lean forward and kiss his pouted lips. Even in his haze, Sam drags down Bucky’s bottom lip playfully. Then he kisses him properly until he’s gotten a sufficient taste. Bucky’s forehead falls against Sam’s when they’re done. His eyes are closed but he smiles.
“I got a lotta questions for you,” Sam says, teasingly.
Bucky smiles wider. “Thought we were gonna do more at home.”
“We are,” Sam smirks. “And then I got a lotta questions for you.”
“But how can I answer them?” Bucky jests, picking his head up again. “You’re supposed to eat me after.”
Sam laughs, lets his head fall back against the brick wall and sighs, relaxed.
“So, you do think I’m funny,” Bucky says.
“You thought I didn’t?”
Bucky shrugs. “Never knew for sure if the eye-rolling was affectionate or not.”
“So, what was the plan for tonight? See if you got an eye roll or a handjob in the back alley?”
“No,” Bucky says, then shrugs again. “I mean, I wasn’t wearing a mask. If I got the eye roll, I could’ve pretended I didn’t recognize you.”
“But you took my mask off.”
Bucky winces, looking away.
“I wanted it to be… us,” Bucky admits shyly. “Not just some goblin and an ex-assassian.”
Sam reaches out to hold Bucky’s face in his hands. He pulls him closer again.
“It’ll always be us.”