Work Text:
Sam slumps against the wall of the elevator at Stark Towers after pressing the button to the 15th floor. Moving here has been a huge change of pace and it's been taking a lot out of him. Getting settled at the VA office here had been nothing short of a paperwork nightmare but thankfully he's getting into a normal routine now. Today he found out he was finally going to get to attend group meetings and possibly start hosting them or co-hosting them with his supervisor. That was one thing he missed about DC, being his own boss, but it was worth it to be close to Steve and Bucky now. He wouldn't trade that for anything.
It's been nearly two and a half years since they found Bucky. Two years of trials, therapy, fights, tantrums, disappearances, apologies, forgiveness. Two years of growth and setbacks, movie nights, game nights, weekend barbecues. Two years of epiphanies, self discovery and the occasional breakdown. About a year of his return to missions and more than a dozen missions together. Sam was there for most of it and then 6 months ago Steve and Bucky packed up and moved here to Stark Towers. Sam was understanding about it, but realized when faced with an empty house he was miserable on his own. It was Sharon who finally convinced him to make the big move just a few months ago.
The apartment in the tower was spacious and Tony had originally set him up his own apartment across the hall, but after about a month he realized he liked sharing with Steve and Bucky and spent most his time with them instead.
As the elevator reaches the floor he's glad he can finally just relax for the rest of the evening but when he steps through the door he finds the living room in disarray. The chairs and coffee table are pushed to the side wall, there's large sheets of paper, scissors, glue, and other art supplies strung out on the floor. "What the..."
"Sorry for the mess." Bucky calls emerging from the bathroom tying his hair back into a hairband.
Sam licks his lips and forgets momentarily about the mess. Bucky's barefoot, wearing a pair of his old red basketball shorts and a decidedly unholy dark grey sleeveless undershirt that's stretched tightly across his chest and small waist. It's definitely a look that works for him.
"What is all this?" Sam asks.
Bucky's blue eyes grow wide when he raises his eyebrows excitedly and his smirk turns into a 100 watt grin shortly after. "It's a surprise."
"This isn't like that time you and Natasha and you decided a surprise birthday party for Clint at my house would be a good idea and he ended up leading a handful of mob men to my door, is it?"
"That was one time." he pouts.
"I'm just checking," says Sam. "I can't afford another claim on my insurance," he teases.
"I promise, this one you'll like," Bucky pauses biting his bottom lip looking bashful now, "I think. I hope."
Sam can't help but smile. For whatever reason Bucky lately, the past few weeks especially has been a little on edge, nervous even but also eager to prove himself. As if he had anything to prove to Sam at this point. "Okay, I trust you," he says and Bucky looks relieved before going to flip on a few lights now that the sun is starting to set.
The apartment windows face east and get great light in the morning, but the shadows from the buildings behind them make the living room unusually dark this time of day. "I'll go change," Sam says starting to untuck his dress shirt, "and then I'll run down the street to get some dinner. Steve called and said he'd be home in about an hour."
"Oh! Good! Steve can help when he gets here."
"What am I? Chopped liver? I can help."
“No, this is a surprise!" Bucky protests kneeling down to the floor collecting a few sticks, a ruler and some scissors.
Sam looks everything over still not sure what all of it is, but he just shrugs, "Alright, if you insist," he says as he makes his way back to the bedroom. "I insist." he hears Bucky say before he shuts the door. It's good to see Bucky doing constructive things, he always seems more relaxed when he's got something to do with his hands. Sam tries not to let the thought of Bucky's hands wander too far, though sometimes they just creep right in. He scrubs his face in frustration. Get a grip Sam.
He tosses his khaki pants into the laundry hamper and hangs his shirt in the dry cleaning bag before pulling on his favorite pair of jeans and wandering across to the bathroom to wash his face. After patting his face dry with a spare hand towel, he notices Bucky's phone sitting on the counter and grabs it to bring it out to him.
"Bucky you for--" but as he rounds the corner, he slams right into Bucky's solid body with a OOF and a thud. "Ah, crap, sorry," Sam says as the phone crashes to the ground. He steps back to pick it up, but so does Bucky and so, as soon as he reaches it and goes to stand back up the top of his head slams into Bucky's chin.
A clack of teeth and a hiss comes from Bucky and suddenly there's blood pouring from his lip down his chin.
"Oh man," and Sam can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "I'm sorry. Come on," he says leading Bucky into the bathroom. He grabs the small hand towel he just used to dry off his face and dampens it with warm water while Bucky rinses the blood from his fingers in the second sink. When Bucky stands back up more blood is trailing down his chin so Sam wipes it clean and then presses the rag to Bucky's bottom lip. "Sorry," Sam says again.
Bucky's eyes snap up to meet Sam's as he shake his head side to side. "My fault," he mumbles and reaches up grabbing Sam's wrist. They stare at each other a few beats and Sam is keenly aware of how close they are and that he's still not wearing a shirt. Bucky let's go of his wrist and takes the rag for himself brushing his fingers along Sams' as he does it.
As he pulls his hand away, Sam can't help dropping his eyes to Bucky's hand and then glances at his mouth. Then, Bucky is pulling the rag away and his mouth parts slowly. Sam realizes where his mind is starting to wander to again and that he must be staring inappropriately, so he pulls his eyes away quickly as he can. "I uh, better go grab dinner," he says brushing past Bucky quick as he can out of the bathroom. He's not sure, but he swears he imagines Bucky whisper his name. He lets out a frustrated sigh when he gets back to the room grabbing his favorite purple t-shirt from the closet. Smooth, real smooth Sam.
He takes a deep breath to steady his nerves and steps out of the room. He makes his way down the hallway but behind him, the light from the bathroom clicks off and he hears Bucky's feet pad down the hardwood floors. "Sam?" he hears Bucky’s uneasy voice.
Sam turns around slowly. "Yeah?" he says nonchalant as possible.
Bucky just stares for a moment and then shakes his head and laughs to himself, "You going to the sandwich place?"
"If that's what you want."
Bucky licks his lips and smiles crookedly with the side of his mouth that isn't split then nods. Sam's pretty sure he could knock someone out with that smile, would bet he probably has at some point.
"Roast beef?" Sam asks.
Bucky nods, "You know me too well."
---
When Sam gets back Steve is home and both he and Bucky are busy at work tracing a design on the paper. They both go suspiciously quiet when he comes in and Steve eyes him like he's in danger of revealing some top-secret plan, but then goes back to tracing something on the huge roll of paper spread out on the floor.
"Well," say Sam, "this isn't awkward or anything."
Steve coughs trying to cover the smile and laugh the bubbles up, but fails miserably. Bucky shoves Steve like he’s a traitor and mumbles, "Shut up," to them both.
They take a break to eat and watch a few episodes of some documentary mini-series Bucky found on Netflix before Sam heads to bed.
---
He wakes the next morning with the early sunrise peaking through the curtains and the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. He figures Steve must be up already but is pleasantly surprised to find Bucky instead standing at the huge floor to ceiling windows drinking coffee and watching the sun rise.
"You're up early," he says startling Bucky from his thoughts.
"Yeah," Bucky agrees glancing back at Sam with a wry smile. He takes a sip from the mug in his hand. "I don't know why I don't do this more often. It's nice."
"Because," Sam laughs, "you're usually the grumpiest morning person I've ever met."
Bucky huffs a laugh. "True."
Sam pours his coffee adding a scoop of sugar to the cup. "Did you even go to sleep?" Sam asks. He worries when Bucky goes through sleepless phases now that they're not as frequent.
"I tried." Bucky shrugs still staring out the window.
"Everything ok?" Sam asks, but gets no answer. He shuffle closer to see what has Bucky's attention, but there's nothing specific outside. The pale morning sunlight is making everything glow in pastel shades including Bucky's smooth complexion that's cast in a soft yellow light. Bucky glances up at him when he realizes Sam is now standing next to him. "Everything ok?" Sam repeats and Sam is rewarded with a smile.
"Great," he beams and then turns away from the window, away from him. "Grab a jacket and meet me on the roof in 10 minutes."
"Wait, what?"
"Jacket. Roof. 10 minutes." Bucky repeats stepping out the front door leaving Sam completely baffled.
Sam stands staring at the closed door for a good few seconds before everything has fully processed. He sets his coffee down on the breakfast bar and then wanders over to Steve's room peeking his head in. The bed hasn't been slept in, still made up exactly the same as it had been the day before.
What the hell is going on? This is weird, even for Bucky.
He pops into the bathroom real quick to splash some water his face and brush his teeth before he grabs a hoodie from the hall closet. He considers grabbing his gun but finally decides against it and heads out to the elevator. He slips on a pair of shoes as he's waiting for the elevator and hits the rooftop terrace button after the doors shut. The ride is quiet except for the soft hum of cable.
At the top Sam can see through the glass walls that Bucky's standing in a patch of light pouring onto the roof from between two other building's shadows and a breeze is blowing his hair around softly. He looks like something out of a movie and Sam smiles at the thought. Bucky turns to face him as the elevator doors open and he runs a hand through his hair. "Hey."
Sam chuckles to hide the flips his stomach is doing at this exact moment and all he can say in return is, "Hey."
"So," Bucky says rubbing his metal hand over his other arm, a nervous gesture, "you know the surprise I was working on?"
Sam nods. Bucky’s nervousness is making him nervous too, they've been dancing around each other a little awkwardly for several weeks and Sam just hadn't been ready to admit Bucky was deliberately attempting to push things past whatever this was, whatever they were before now.
"Well, there's two actually," he continues brushing bit of hair that hand blown out of place.
Sam steps closer not daring to interrupt Bucky’s momentum, but suddenly Bucky freezes and looks like he might back off. "Yeah?" Sam prompts and smiles deliberately glancing to his mouth.
Bucky huffs out a breath, steps in closer and just goes for it pressing his lips lightly to Sam's. The tension from everything just melts and Sam smiles wide before he seals his mouth firmly over Bucky's. They continue like that back and forth for a few moments before Bucky pulls away laughing quietly.
"What? That Bad?" Sam teases.
"No, of course not. I just -- this was not the order I expected this to go in. I used to be so much better at this," Bucky admits looking up at him still clearly hesitant.
"Well, I'm certainly not complaining." Sam says raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Bucky covers his face laughing into his hands and then finally squares his shoulders and looks up determined at Sam. "Ok. Good to know, but back to the original surprise. First, sit there." he says pointing to the fancy patio furniture.
Sam almost dares him to make him, but he figures there will be plenty of time for that later so he sits and waits patiently as Bucky disappears around a corner. A few moments later he can hear feet pounding at a running pace behind him and he stands quickly on guard for something bad or unexpected. Instead, he sees Bucky hurl something into the air with his metal arm and then yanks a string wrapped around his right hand.
When Sam looks up there is a white kite floating in the wind. It's in the shape of a bird and suddenly everything from last night makes perfect sense. The sticks, the glue, the scissors. He laughs, it’s a bird. "Did you… Bucky did you make that?"
"Well, Steve helped." Bucky says.
"Wow, I… that's amazing." Sam says grinning up to the sky again.
"Here you try before I crash it." Bucky says holding the string out to him.
"I've never actually flown a kite before." Sam says feeling a little silly at the admission.
"Never?" Bucky asks.
"Nope."
"Here, I'll help." Bucky says handing a bit of the string over to him and holding the roll in his left hand. "I have a lot of practice."
"I remember." Sam laughs nudging his shoulder into Bucky's.
"That was one time!" Bucky laughs but bites his bottom lip again looking tentative out of the corner of his eye.
"You know I'm only joking right?" Sam say, "I would never hold that against you. I'm serious."
Bucky looks him in the eye and must decide it's true because he kisses him again much more firmly this time, miraculously without letting the kite fall. Sam can't say the same for himself.