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Bucky rolled his shoulder forward, then back again. He reached across his body with his right hand to press his fingertips into the tight muscle. It barked at him, but working out the tension was the only way to relieve it.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked from the other side of the table. It turned out Captain America had a lot of paperwork. Technically, Sam didn't answer to anyone, but there were still agencies who were interested in what he did. Staying on their good sides was important, so he could continue not to answer to them.
Bucky looked up. He hadn't realized Sam was watching him. "Nothing. It gets stiff. All those years lugging that heavy arm around wrecked my shoulder."
"Wrecked doesn't sound like nothing. What happened to super soldier healing?"
"Some things don't heal," Bucky replied simply.
Sam's face pulled into a frown. "C'mere."
"What?"
"Come. Here."
Bucky hesitated and he wasn't sure why. He and Sam were friends, and they had fooled around a few times, but it wasn't anything that either of them were taking seriously. However, Sam's face looked pretty serious.
"If you insist," Bucky said, climbing over the bench a couple beats too late. He walked around the table and sat down next to Sam.
"No, turn." Sam grasped Bucky by the shoulder and turned him so he was straddling the bench with his back to Sam. "I'm going to get better leverage from this angle than you trying to do this on yourself."
"I do have one of those massagers upstairs, I'm not completely helpless," Bucky replied, once he realized what Sam was going to do. He couldn't help the moan that slipped out a second later when Sam pressed his thumbs into the thickest part of his shoulder muscle.
"I thought you might like that," Sam said, his grin loud and obvious in his tone. "Damn, you are tight."
Bucky chuckled, unable to help himself. "Not the first time you've said that about me."
Sam snorted. "You're a dirty old man, you know that, right?"
"You don't seem to mind."
"Nah," Sam agreed, rolling the heel of his hand over Bucky's shoulder. He leaned in closer and kissed Bucky's neck, just above the collar of his tee shirt. "I like it."
Bucky took a slow, deliberate breath to keep himself from gasping. He turned his head to the side so he could see Sam's face in his peripheral vision. "What are we doing here, exactly?"
"Right now, I'm giving you a shoulder massage. The rest of it, we'll figure it out afterwards. And we can take our time, or not. However we want to do it. But right now, we're doing this. That sound good?"
"Yeah," Bucky replied as he looked forward. He let his shoulder relax, as Sam pressed into the left one again. "That sounds really good."