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Sam knew how people looked when they were mad – he worked with the Avengers, after all. The majority of them had anger issues and aggravated each other to the point of physical fights. Stark and Steve were the most memorable as they used to fight most often but also spend the nights having the deepest conversations. They were complicated, to say the least, and Sam never dared to butt his nose in there. But their fighting faces were pretty recognizable with veins popping out on the foreheads, teeth tightly clenched together. Everyone had different quirks but they were obvious.
The problem with Barnes, which came from his heavily loaded past, was how unreadable he was.
Most of the time he wore his face as a blank mask, he never smiled, frowned whenever Sam talked and when he was thinking something. Probably thinking. Sam could never be sure, it’s not like he could see inside the guy’s brain. And for that he was glad, cause there was a huge mess inside that brain and he was fascinated how despite that Barnes still managed to raise his eyebrows judgingly, smirk mockingly and look into his eyes with his blank look.
So no one could fault him for not understanding what the expression on Barnes’ face was as they sat in Sam’s truck in the middle of nowhere, waiting for Torres to confirm that everything was clear, the mission was finished and they could roll back to New York. The truck was parked on the side road and the whole area was surrounded by trees and long grass. It was quiet and they were safe, even if they were in the open because Barnes’ enhanced hearing could pick up on the smallest of sounds when there was nothing to distract him.
Sam himself was leaning on the hood of the truck with his arms crossed on his chest while Barnes was still sitting in the passenger seat. He was pretty sure that the guy’s eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pursed in that dissatisfied expression and he was fucking glaring at Sam’s back through the front window. He didn’t need to see or read the guy’s expression because it was obvious that he was pissed. At him. For what, he had no idea and was dying to figure out.
Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Barnes was sulking the whole ride here from the base, didn’t say a word, spent the entire trip staring through the front window, except a few times when he threw burning glares into Sam’s direction. He didn’t know what the guy’s problem was, wasn’t sure whether he even wanted to know at this point, because the last couple of weeks were fairly quiet and easy. They spend every single day together and Sam was surprised how before all of this he wasn’t sure whether they could spend a couple of hours in the same room together, but now they barely left Bucky’s apartment and he only realized that when Torres called him in for another small scale mission. They didn’t even talk about it – Bucky naturally coming with him even if he sat on the sidelines and only watched.
Everything was good and he was surprised at how easy it was.
They weren’t in a relationship – he wasn’t sure whether Barnes’ psyche could handle that now but it was a promise for the future. The mornings were spent running around empty Brooklyn streets at the crack of dawn, afternoons at different parks except when Bucky had therapy and Sam left for half a day to visit Sarah, who nowadays looked at him with narrowed eyes and he knew that she suspected what was going on but didn’t say anything because he didn’t and she was fucking amazing, and evenings cooking dinner, and who knew that Barnes could actually cook, while the TV played another game which they ignored most of the time.
It was domestic and Sam wouldn’t change it for anything because Bucky actually smiled at him sometimes and didn’t look so haunted after a session with Dr. Raynor.
So you can get how confusing this whole hour and a half ride has been for him because Barnes fucking ignored him, glared at him as if they were back in Germany, and was sulking. Sam’s not going to mention the last point because he really didn’t want to get hit since Bucky’s got a mean swing whether it’s his flesh or vibranium arm.
He sighed again and lowered his hands before pushing back from the truck’s hood and walking around it to reach the passenger side. Sam opened the door a little harshly and loudly as he leaned on the side while looking at his not-yet-a-boyfriend who didn’t spare him a glance and stared right ahead.
“Okay, enough. Spill,” now it was his turn to glare at Bucky. Of course, the fucking bastard didn’t even react, his face a calm mask and the only thing betraying him was the way his eyes clouded with anger and got slightly darker than usual.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” okay, he wasn’t ignored this time. That must be a step in the right direction because these were the first words he muttered all evening. Sam wanted to swear and show how fucking annoyed he was but he knew that he shouldn’t. Barnes wasn’t Sarah who could handle him losing his shit because she knew that that’s just how he is. If Bucky ever heard him call him sensitive and fragile in his head Sam was pretty sure that he would be banished from the sofa to the ground for the rest of their not-really-a-relationship. Bucky really needed to get a fucking bed, his back has been killing him the past few days even if the said sofa was comfortable and Bucky loved to crowd him against the back of it so he didn’t even get a chance to change his position a lot during the night.
“Cut the bullshit, Buck,” he tried to make his voice more gentle even if he wanted to spit the words out. Before all of this, he never would have thought that he would even grill himself about hurting Barnes’ delicate sensibilities. But now he wanted to protect him from his own words and never utter a single sentence out which could hurt him even unintentionally. He cared about him even if admitting it in his head was scary enough that he wasn’t even able to explain that to Sarah.
“You know, it’s funny,” finally those eyes drifted away from the window and looked straight at him. Maybe that was a bad idea because for a second he wanted to take a step back from the burning glare directed at him. He didn’t even know how he managed to fuck up enough to deserve it. “You and Steve. Two fucking stubborn assholes with a death wish.”
“What? How is this about Ste-“
“How the fuck is it not? That asshole used to jump out of fucking planes without a parachute as if he was invincible or just straight-up suicidal and here I thought that at least you cared enough to not do shit like that,” Sam was lost. He tried not to show it on his face but judging by Bucky’s expression he was failing miserably at it. He knew that Steve had a death wish – he worked with a guy, lived with him for a couple of months and the only person who was even more reckless and careless than him was sitting in his truck right now.
“I have wings, Bucky, jumping out of a plane’s not gonna kill-“
“Yeah it won’t, but how about a fucking grenade launcher, huh? It will blow off your fucking wing and you will fall to your death and I believe you won’t be as lucky as me,” okay, he could work with that. Probably. Bucky was getting a bit heated if the red on his cheeks was any indication and he had to calm him down before he overheated. They were getting along – more than getting along, they slept together every night, fucking cuddled, and hadn’t left each other’s side for almost a month except a few occasions.
“Is that what this is about?” Sam took a step towards the car so he could stand right next to him and feel how Bucky’s knee brushed against his leg. Jesus, he was gone for the guy if a touch through two layers of clothing was enough to make him swallow a bump in his throat. “I had it under control, it was a tactic to keep them occupied-“
“Yeah, well from below it looked like you were just diving headfirst into your fucking death,” Bucky spat out as he crossed his arms on his chest covered by probably Sam’s favorite Henley of his since it was a washed-out black and see-through if the light hit him the right way. And at this moment while the sun was setting on the horizon it did. Get your head straight, Wilson, now’s not the time.
“C’mon, Buck. You know that I wouldn’t-“
“Why wouldn’t you? It’s not like Steve nor you even cared about yourself with the shit you were pulling-“
“Hey,” he extended his arm and grabbed the flesh arm which was closer to him before pulling it towards himself. He wanted to sigh in relief when Bucky allowed him to do that because that meant that he didn’t fuck up too badly. Even if he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure what he did to deserve such a reaction. He had an idea but it was difficult to think about it because they never talked about their relationship seriously. They should have. Bucky’s the only thing Sam has not counting Sarah and the kids and he was pretty sure that Bucky didn’t have anyone besides him. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to jump headfirst into a line of fire without a plan, okay?”
He wanted to say that he wouldn’t leave him like that but Sam wasn’t brave enough. The words were at the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t force himself to utter them.
“Yeah, well, Steve said the same and where is he now?”
“Don’t, Barnes,” his fingers grabbed Bucky’s as he intertwined their hands. They spent their entire time together touching each other in one way or another, whether it was a hand on the lower back, around shoulders, or Bucky’s fingers grabbing his forearm as they walked around busy Brooklyn streets but they never held hands before. Sam didn’t realize how much he actually wanted to. Since when is he so fucking sappy. “I know that I and Steve are similar but I also know that you realize how different we are. I’m not going to just up and leave you.”
Maybe, it wasn’t so hard to say that. His mouth was dry and his throat clenched around nothing but he already said the words and Bucky haven’t pulled his hand away yet so it was a good sign. Sam stared at Bucky’s profile but those blue eyes didn’t look at him. He was once again staring through the front window and the cold metal fingers in his hand weren’t moving.
Sam liked Bucky’s eyes but he could still remember how terrifyingly clouded and blank they were on the bridge and highway as his body mechanically tried to kill Steve and how haunted they were in Germany. Nowadays they managed to show whatever emotion was boiling inside of him but Bucky never lost the talent of making that blank and cold look appear whenever he needed it.
Apparently, he needed it now.
Sam thought it was hypocritical of Bucky to attack him when he himself didn’t use any armor during the fight except a thin kevlar west hidden under all that leather. He blocked the fucking bullets with his arm and nothing could stop them from slipping past the metal and hitting him straight in the head. But Sam also knew how impossibly irritating super soldiers were if you tried to preach to them about self-sacrifice and how about you don’t use your fucking body as a shield or a sponge waiting to be filled up with bullets.
“You’re being a fucking hypocrite, Buck,” Sam rested his shoulder on the side of the car and leaned over to look straight at that blank face from above. He could see the bewilderment reflected on there before he masked that and anything else showing up before looking up at him. Sam’s eyes caught those blue eyes covered by dark eyelashes and an unsatisfied look in them.
“Is that so?” he wasn’t sure whether that was his wild imagination as he allowed his eyes to glance at that face which he spent hours staring at in the dim lights of Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment and bright sunlight in the middle of Brooklyn itself or was Bucky really trying to rile him up. He didn’t seem angry anymore. The red on his cheeks was gone, his eyes were still blank but they lost that rage-filled darkness and he willingly inserted his fingers in between Sam’s and tightened his grip. Tight enough to send a wave of pain up to his wrist but not tight enough to actually bruise or hurt him.
“I’m not the one stopping bullets with my arm or putting on a vest and going into a gunfight with one handgun,” at first he did feel uncomfortable with the whole staring into your soul through your eyes or through your skull since it clearly doesn’t make a difference if you reciprocate thing but he didn’t dare to point it out when Bucky kept staring at him even at six am when they were drinking coffee in his kitchen after a long run. And now, when those blue eyes didn’t leave him not even for a second and he could swear he could see mirth playing in them he even enjoyed it. Leave it to Barnes to make him enjoy something creepy and irritable.
“I’m highly trained, Sam. I can step into a gunfight without a vest and without a gun and come out winning with only a few scrapes,” okay, he was officially forgiven because the bastard was smiling at him. Since it was upside down he couldn’t really tell whether he was mocking him or not but it didn’t really matter at that moment.
“Well, since you also make me worry and don’t see me complaining how about you make it up to me?” they both knew that it was bullshit because after Thanos Bucky hadn’t fought anyone and put down his guns even if he still carried knives. But Sam could still remember fighting along with him and the guy really lacked self-preservation. If he worried back then, being a decent and caring human being that he was, fuck you, Barnes, he would probably lose his shit now.
But Bucky didn’t need to know that. Or at least he didn’t need to voice it out since it was probably evident on his face and no one could read him like the man staring at him with those steely blue eyes and that half-smile on his smug but still handsome face.
“What do you have in mind?” Bucky didn’t let go of his hand as he lifted his legs out of the car and braced them on the grass beneath. His shoulder leaned on the back of the seat and he was still looking at Sam through his lashes and fucking smiling. Sam was pretty sure that at this point Bucky knew what he was doing because how could he not.
“I know you want to kiss me, you asshole,” his heart sank as he watched how that playful smile disappeared and felt how those fingers let go of his. He didn’t let his eyes wander as he watched how Bucky lifted himself from the seat and stood in front of him.
Fucking super soldiers with their perfect physique and tall build - Sam wasn’t short but now Bucky was looking down on him not only because his shoes had a bit of a heel but also because he was simply taller. That thought should have irritated him more but he could hardly think about that as those mismatched palms covered his neck from both sides and Bucky bent down slightly to look into his eyes from the same height.
Bucky didn’t say anything but he could visualize how the gears in his brain were turning and he barely stopped himself from laughing or commenting on it. He seemed nervous given by how quickly his eyes glazed over Sam’s face and how he swallowed loudly. Bucky’s thumbs were running gentle circles on his cheeks since his fucking hands were gigantic and covered all of his neck and the metal was cold and cooling on his skin. Sam lifted his brows once their eyes met again.
Bucky rolled his eyes good-heartedly before taking a simple step forward so the end of his right boot knocked right into Sam’s, who was very ready to complain about it loudly and annoyingly, mind you, but he didn’t have time for that when his mouth was covered by a pair of chapped lips and Bucky’s fingers finally stilled on his skin. Sam had no idea what to do with his hands since it was the first time wasn’t taking the lead but before he could panic about it his fingers automatically reached out and grabbed the leather material between them.
Bucky didn’t rush, didn’t apply anything more than little pressure before moving his lips, didn’t let his hands wander. In truth, he was as stiff as a brick before Sam took a little initiative and pulled on his jacket.
It made sense, in a dark corner of Sam’s mind, that he was a gentleman about this sort of a thing but not fucking bickering and not sharing the same sofa for almost a month. Part of him wondered whether he was the first kiss Bucky had since coming back but he didn’t want to insult his delicate sensibilities by implying that the guy was rusty.
The kiss didn’t last long since Bucky only pressed his lips against his for an extended amount of time, clearly not daring to do anything more except move with the current. Just as he pulled away and looked at him with those bright blue eyes Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he didn’t need to check it to know that it was an all-clear from Torres. But Bucky was still looking at him and he looked downright terrified which made him worry so he didn’t back down from eye contact.
“In my defense, I never thought I would be allowed something like this for all of my fuckedupness, doll,” Bucky’s voice always caught lower notes whenever he whispered as if it hurt his vocal cords. And maybe it did because he barely used his voice for seven decades and even if he did use it it was to mutter Russian affirmations.
“That’s not a word,” Bucky rolled his eyes again and that look which made worry pool in Sam’s stomach disappeared a bit. He still wasn’t settled completely and he couldn’t leave it at that. Sam squeezed the jacket between his hands, which made Bucky look into his eyes again, before pulling him towards himself and kissing him.
The second time was easier. Maybe because Sam took the initiative this time and didn’t allow Barnes to linger or have his inner freak out or maybe because Bucky finally decided to show some of his skills while pressing them chest to chest and tightening his hands on Sam’s neck. The mentioned phone started buzzing in his jacket’s pocket and for a moment he thought that Bucky’s about to pull away so Sam can take a fucking phone call of all things but instead of that he moved away from his mouth to leave a couple of open-mouthed kisses on his cheek and down his jaw while moving his hands down his shoulders to leave more space for his mouth. It sent a shiver down his spine and he managed to sneak his hands underneath that way too tight leather jacket and an almost see-through Henley which would probably rip if he dared to pull on it.
After that first, out of many, make-out session which almost left a dent in his beautiful truck when Sam dared to run his hand up Bucky’s naked skin and he slammed his left hand into the back door a little too strong, which shouldn’t have been so fucking hot, what the fuck Wilson, Sam found out that even though Bucky had the coldest eyes he ever had the pleasure of knowing they spoke volumes when he was overwhelmed and allowed himself to feel his feelings.
Which wasn’t a lot but Bucky also tended to lose his shit over everything lately so they were moving in the right direction. And a little too fast for both of their likings considering the fact that Bucky put him on a fucking pedestal since he didn't have anyone else and both of them had emotional baggage bigger than they knew what to do with.