Archive of Our Own ^beta

1. 

Sam dove after Steve’s falling form, but his feet had barely left the edge before he was caught. The wing pack screeched as he was lifted bodily. 

He twisted, head over heels, as the Winter Soldier picked him out of the sky, probably intending to swing him over his shoulder and directly into the ground as hard as possible. Sam activated the EXO-7 wings and spun in a tight somersault and ended by pulling his guns out to fire at the Soldier. 

Easily, too easily, the Soldier dodged and disappeared behind a large piece of machinery on the hellicarrier’s deck. 

Sam activated his propulsion rockets and swung around the side, searching for the Soldier and Steve in the same sweep. He didn’t get far. There was a moment before he felt the grapple hit the center of his right wing's structure, where he thought he was home free. 

Sam hit the ground hard, and a second later, the Soldier ripped his wing right off the EXO pack. If he survived, his shoulder was going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow. Sam fumbled to his feet just in time to receive a rib-breaking kick to the chest. 

He fell, thousands of feet rushing by in seconds. He might have screamed, but it was gone in the rush of air. In his panic, it took precious time to hit the emergency release button and unfurl his parachute. 

His legs buckled when he hit the roof of the shield building twenty feet later, the parachute doing little to catch his fall. He caught himself with his hands and was thankful for the gloves to prevent himself from tearing up the skin on his palms. 

Pain reverberated up his spine from the impact, but he forced himself into a standing position, shielding his eyes as he looked back up at the looming helicarrier trio.

“Goddamn it,” Sam growled. That fuckass Terminator. 

2.

In retrospect, Sam probably deserved it. 

He should have thought before touching the man, Barnes, James, the Winter Soldier. Whatever you wanted to call him. He’d just thought he would recognize Sam. They had shared a bed three or four times in the last two months. Sam had thought he would remember. 

Sam hadn’t even been looking when he found him this time, though. 

He was in Paris, the city of love. Keeping tabs on a branch of Hydra that had popped up and following them from a distance as they led him back to their headquarters. Sam watched through Redwing's red interface as The Winter Soldier arrived, a flash of silver and not much else. 

There wasn’t a single sound, not gun fire, not screaming. It took less than five minutes for Barnes to incapacitate all six of the people, and then another two until Sam arrived on the scene. 

Barnes was crouched in on himself, surrounded by mostly still breathing operatives in the pocket of an unlit alley. Sam instructed Redwing quietly to call the police as he landed a few yards away and tucked his wings in with an almost silent swish-click. 

Sam walked forward, purposefully making sounds so Barnes knew he was there. Barnes didn’t move, hands planted firmly against the ground, staring into nothing. Breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon. 

“James?” Sam muttered. No response. 

He stepped closer, trying to catch the man’s eyes through the curtain of greasy black hair covering his face. He looked worse than the last time Sam had seen him. A night to remember, Barnes crouched not unlike this at Sam’s feet under the off-yellow lights of a shitty motel bathroom. Those beautiful blue eyes locked on Sam’s when he swallowed him down. 

Now, though, Barnes looked like he hadn’t been sleeping, with large eye bags and bloodshot eyes. His mouth was slightly open while he panted, and Sam felt worry gnaw at his heart. 

“Bucky?” Sam asked again. He bent, cautiously reaching a hand out to touch the side of Barnes’ head. 

The same place he had caressed while gasping his name. Just to the left of where his hair parted. 

Barnes lurched to his feet, grabbing Sam around the throat with his left hand and slamming him into the nearest building’s wall. Sam squeaked in surprise and pain, but mostly pain, as the air was knocked out of him. 

Barnes looked like a scared dog, teeth bared behind snarling lips and eyes wide with adrenaline. His massive shoulders tensed and untensed as he flexed his hand around Sam’s neck. He was holding Sam a few inches off the ground. Sam kicked his feet weakly, trying to free himself from the hold. 

The lights in Sam’s HUD screamed at him, warning him uselessly of a lack of air. Sam tried to pry Barnes’s hand off with no luck. He dug his nails so hard into the metal that one of his nails broke. Blood welled up and dripped down his hand. 

Barnes stared at Sam, who stared back with equally scared eyes. Trying desperately to communicate to Barnes that they knew each other. Sam was seeing black in his vision now.

“Hngk..” The only sound he got out. It flipped a switch in Barnes’ face. Barnes let him go. Releasing Sam so suddenly, he couldn't do anything but collapse against the wall behind him. 

Sam wheezed and slid down the wall, limbs loose and numb as his lungs rushed to inhale air. Barnes backed away with a gasp, stumbled and fell on his ass a few feet away. 

He said Sam’s name, “Sam, fuck, Sam. Sam,” but Sam couldn’t look at him right now. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on breathing instead. Blood rushing in his ears drowned out Barnes’ weak pleading. 

Too soon, Redwing alerted Sam of the approaching authorities. Sam opened his eyes and was alone. Barnes had run away again. Sam blinked rapidly until he felt well enough to stand. 

Redwing chirped a second time when the red and blue lights split through the evening air. 

When they pulled up at the entrance of the alley, a couple of minutes later, Sam was long gone. Flying back to his hotel, where he would sit on the bathroom counter and trace the handprint around his neck with a damp cloth and try not to cry. 

3.

The web ripped off the floor with a sound like Velcro. Sam wiggled so he could see Bucky. His right hand was covered in the thin webbing now, but he was free from the annoying spider kid’s web. 

“Help a man out?” Sam asked, wiggling his torso around as much as he could while being partially webbed to the floor and fully unable to move his arms. 

Bucky gave him a look but stepped over. He bent at the waist and gripped Sam’s hips. He heaved, and Sam came off the floor easily. The web did not stand a chance against the full strength of a super soldier plus Sam’s weight. 

Bucky held Sam a few inches off the ground for a second with no effort. Like, Sam wasn’t a fully grown man in a combat suit with a 100-odd-pound wing pack on his back.

Bucky set him down, Sam’s boots catching and holding on the cement airport floor. 

Sam’s brain short-circuited by the sheer ease of the movement. How Bucky hadn’t even hesitated, how easily he held Sam up. Sure, Sam knew he was strong, but he didn’t know he was this gentle. 

Bucky began to pull at the webbing around Sam’s arms and shoulders. Ripping it piece by piece off of Sam’s gear, and where it stuck to his exposed skin. Bucky worked quickly, peeling it off with one hand, the other on Sam’s hip to hold him still. 

Sam’s heart was doing something deeply embarrassing in his chest, and thank god for the suit, because Sam didn’t think he wanted Bucky to see how affected he was by everything happening right now. 

After a moment of this, Bucky huffed and nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”

Sam stayed frozen a beat too long after Bucky had started to jog back towards the runway. If Bucky noticed anything, he didn’t comment on it when Sam caught up to him. They just continued running. 

4.

It had been a while since Sam had last seen Bucky. He had longer hair, nearly to his shoulders, and a beard. Sam thought it suited him, made him look wiser than Sam knew he was. 

At the start of the battle, they had been standing guard near the palace, but as the pressure grew, Sam flew into the heat of it. Leaving Bucky on the ground to focus on the stream of fucked up aliens clawing their way into Wakanda. 

He tried not to worry about the other man; he knew Bucky could hold his ground, but that didn't stop him from trying to keep an eye on him. That only lasted so long once the battle picked up. 

“Guys,” he said into the comms. “We’ve got a Vision situation here.”

And then, he was swatted out of the air by one of those mutated many many-armed alien creatures. It rolled him, like an alligator, crashing him into the battlefield below and landing on top of him. It snarled and he snarled back. 

Punching it in the face as it snapped at his neck, Sam shot it in the stomach. Emptying a round into its soft underbelly. It screeched, but didn't die, the sound lost in the general roar of the battle. 

Sam struggled, trying to free himself from under its oppressive and dangerous weight. It’s black and green saliva dripping all over his goggles. He barely avoided getting his hand ripped off a third time as he fought back. 

Someone, or something, grabbed him by his collar and yanked him free just as he was about to get his face ripped. They emptied their round into its face. Its head exploded, and it slumped over, falling into the tall gold grass of the battlefield. Sam tore his eyes away from it and looked to his savior, who was holding him rather close to their body with their arm around his waist. 

Bucky smiled at him. He had a nastily looking scratch on his forehead that was dripping blood and dirt smeared through his beard, and he had never looked hotter. Sam told himself to stop thinking about that while in the middle of a life-or-death battle with creatures from another planet. 

“Hey, Wilson! Thought you could use some help,” Bucky said cheerfully. 

He set Sam down on his feet and simultaneously shot at another alien creature over Sam’s shoulder. Sam saved Bucky’s back from another lurching creature, his wings transforming into a shield, which took the brunt of the lunge. 

“Appreciate it, Barnes.” He tossed over his shoulder as they fought back to back.

They moved in sync without needing to speak, Bucky firing while Sam reloaded and vice versa. The aliens barely moved in a coordinated way, so it was a constant fight to keep them back. For a moment, it was just the two of them holding the line. 

Then a voice crackled through Sam’s comms, Rhodey. 

“Sam! I’ve got incoming at ten o'clock! I need backup now!” Rhodey said urgently. 

Sam looked toward the sky, spotting War Machine’s glinting silver machine gun as he flew by. He hesitated, just for a moment, his eyes flicking to Bucky, who was shooting a hole through the nearest alien. He caught Sam’s eye as he reloaded with quick, fluid movements.

An eyebrow quirked, a silent knowing look shared between them. Sam nodded once, wings unfolding from their shield position and buffering back another creature from lunging at Bucky’s back.

Sam activated his rockets and blasted up into the sky. “On my way.” He said back to Rhodey as he rose rapidly above the battlefield. 

He tried not to think about leaving Bucky behind in the blood bath below. 

5.

Sam leaned against the side of the boat, forearms resting on the railing, chatting with Carlos down on the dock. It was nearing midday, and he was nursing a sweating beer. The sun was hot and heavy on his back. 

“I told Sarah,” Sam said, waving with his free hand as he told the dramatized version of the conversation. “‘If the boat actually sinks, then we’ll panic,’ and she said—“

He was cut off as two hands wrapped around his waist and hoisted him up a foot. They spanned easily around his sides, thumbs planted against his lower back. Sam wobbled as he was unceremoniously set down on the dock next to Carlos.

Sam whirled, catching Bucky’s eye as he stepped past on the narrow side of the boat where Sam had been standing a second ago. Sam felt himself flush down his neck and was glad that nobody would notice because of how humid it was.

“What-? What the hell, man?!” Sam sputtered. 

Bucky didn’t even pause. Just continued walking to wherever he was headed before he had physically moved Sam. Like that was a perfectly normal thing to do when someone was in the way instead of just saying ‘excuse me.’

Carlos burst out laughing. 

Bucky didn’t even look back over his shoulder. “You were in the way, Samuel.”

“I was not!”

“You weren’t working on anything.”

“That’s not the same thing!”

Bucky tossed Sam a cheeky grin that made Sam’s heart speed up. “If you say so, Sam.”

Sam threw the middle finger back because if he was gonna be rude, so was Sam. “I can’t believe he just did that.” 

“Didn’t even,” Carlos was laughing so hard he had to lean against Sam to keep himself upright.  “Didn’t even blink!”

“Unbelievable,” Sam muttered, staring daggers at the side of Bucky’s scruffy jaw, and tried not to think about those hands holding him again. 

+1 

“Hold on, hold on!”

Bucky stopped with one foot on the first step of their front porch.

He waited for Sam, looking up at their house. It felt different then when he had left it this morning. But it was still their home.

The home Bucky had bought after he realized he was spending more time in Delacroix than in Brooklyn. He wanted a place that wasn’t intruding on Sarah’s space anymore.

The place Bucky had kissed Sam, not their first kiss, but their first real one. In the kitchen, while the sink was full of dirty dishes and their cat, Alpine, wove through their legs. 

In the backyard, with the sunset as a backdrop, Bucky got down on one knee six months ago and proposed to the love of his life, while Sarah cheered from the porch.

He had the video saved on his desktop still. Sam had cried, which made Bucky cry. They were such a mess, but they were each other’s mess.

Sam caught up to him and slid an arm around his middle.

Bucky tilted his head down, pulling his eyes away from the house. “You okay?”

Sam smiled, lips brushing his lips infuriatingly lightly, “Yes.”

Bucky chased after the kiss, but Sam pulled back with a sly smile on his face. He squared his stance, then bent low and literally swept Bucky off his feet. Easily picking him up bridal style.

“Sam!” Bucky squawked in surprise, arms going instinctively around Sam’s neck to keep his balance. 

“I said ‘hold on,’” Sam laughed at Bucky’s affronted expression.

Bucky spluttered, flushing to the roots of his hair. “I didn’t think you would pick me up!”

“It’s a romantic tradition,” Sam said, utterly unbothered. He started climbing the steps with impressively little effort. “You’re my husband, Barnes. We just got married, I’m allowed to be romantic.

Miraculously, the front door was unlocked. Sam nudged it open and then set Bucky down on the other side carefully, because he was handling something precious.

Bucky blinked at Sam, slightly breathless. 

“I hate how easy that was for you,” he muttered to cover up how red he probably was, hands automatically sliding to Sam’s hips. “Show-off.”

Sam grinned, his arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck. Resting his right hand on the back of Bucky’s head. “I think you liked it.” He kissed Bucky, just a teasing peck. 

Bucky hummed and snagged Sam's jaw with his right hand, tilting his head to catch him in a real kiss. They fit together perfectly. 

“I've got you,” Sam whispered against his lips. “Always.”