Work Text:
It’s quiet on the boat.
Only the gentle breeze and the careful rocking of the boat dares to make a sound at three in the morning.
Sam looks up and frowns. The moon is a waning crescent; it’s illumination is not as profound as he’d hoped. But the stars provide a steady glow of light that allows him to see the boat’s more prominent features. A faint, yellow hue outlines the edge of the boat as well as the water.
He exhales a breath he did not realize he was holding. His head falls back down to instead stare at the boat floor.
He’s sitting against the edge, his elbows resting on his bent knees. His phone lies between his feet.
Sam sighs.
He doesn’t want to give up the boat. It brings back fond memories. So many fishing trips and so many family events. Even the occasional time he snuck a girl he was seeing onto the boat, stealing secret kisses under the pale moonlight.
He chuckles at that memory. If his mother ever caught him — well, he for sure would not be sitting where he would be right now.
Maybe in Heaven, though.
With a grunt, Sam stands up, turning around to lean against the edge of the boat. It’s too dark to really see his reflection in the water, but he squints at it anyway.
He sighs again. He knows the boat has to go. For Sarah. Her wellbeing is far more important to him.
Another breeze brushes past his face, and the boat shifts beneath him, playing a melody of creaking noises.
The sound of footsteps alert Sam, and he straightens up, turning his head to see who is stepping onto the boat. The starlight bounces off of the vibranium arm, leaving Sam with the immediate knowledge of who it is. A smirk tugs at his lips and he turns back around to face the water. “What’s the matter, can’t sleep?”
“Could ask you the same thing.” The other man drawls. His footsteps become louder, and Sam doesn’t have to look to know that Bucky is next to him now.
“I don’t have much time with her left,” Sam states plainly. He runs his hand along the edge. “We’re almost done with the renovations.”
“She looks great, though,” Bucky stares upwards.
“Yeah,” Sam breathes. He turns his head to look at Bucky’s profile. “What’s your excuse?”
“Come again?”
“Why are you awake?”
“Oh,” Bucky whistles. “Because I had to piss.” His gaze moves to the water.
“Lovely,” Sam snorts. “But that still doesn’t explain how you ended up next to me.”
Bucky shrugs. “I passed your room. You weren’t in it. I assumed you were here.” His (flesh) fingers drummed mindlessly against the wood. “If you want me to leave you alone, I can go.”
“No,” Sam says — a little too quickly. “I mean, er, I don’t mind.”
Through the gentle hue of the night, Sam sees a smirk appear on Bucky’s face.
There’s a brief moment of silence, Bucky’s drumming slows to a soft tap and Sam cannot help but stare at the man’s profile. He’s still fixated on the water below them. But his mind seems to be elsewhere. At least it was — until Bucky suddenly turns his head to catch Sam’s eyes.
“Now who has the staring problem?” Bucky stands up straighter.
Sam feels heat rise to his cheeks as he turns back towards the horizon. “Just making sure you didn’t accidentally pass out.”
Bucky lets out a low chuckle.
Sam clears his throat. “Anyway,” he begins, “thanks for helping out with the boat.”
Bucky’s now completely facing Sam, his right forearm resting on the edge of the boat. “No problem.”
“Seriously,” he continues. “I really couldn’t have done this much work in this amount of time if it weren’t for your freakish strength.”
“Now I’m freakish?” A hint of a tease escapes his lips.
“You’ve always been,” Sam jabs a finger in his chest. “Keep up.”
“Hmph, and here I thought you liked me for my personality.”
“Well, you first went wrong when you thought I liked you.”
Bucky laughs — and Sam immediately notices how contagious his laugh is.
“So, Sam,” Bucky still has a smile on his face. “What kind of stuff did you do on this boat?”
“Fishing trips, mainly.” Sam answers. “Sometimes we had family parties on it too. Like celebrating my high school graduation.” He smiles fondly. “I had a lot of family, we couldn’t all fit in the house.”
Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “So instead you squeezed on a boat?”
Sam shakes his head. “No, dumbass. The boat stayed in the dock. We just had some food and drinks on it so people didn’t all congregate in the same area.”
Bucky clicks his tongue. “Ah, makes sense.” His eyes trail around the boat. “Seems like you made some good memories here.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sam mutters. “I still wish I didn’t have to sell it.”
Bucky rests his vibranium hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I get that. But it’ll make tons of new memories for other people.”
Sam stares at the hand and then follows it to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Well — I guess.”
Bucky drops the hand. “Another family will use it for their trips instead. And perhaps those kids will grow up thinking about it as fondly as you have.”
“Were you always this cheesy?”
“Always have been.” Now it’s Bucky’s turn to jab a finger in Sam’s chest. “Keep up.”
Sam knocks his hand away. He can’t suppress the snort that comes out of him. “Touché, metal man.”
Bucky grins, and something flutters in Sam’s chest. He’s slightly taken aback by it, and it must show on his face, as Bucky tilts his head in concern. “You okay?”
Sam sucks in a breath. “Yeah, just—” he exhales. “Got a lot on my mind.”
Bucky’s eyes express worry. “You...wanna talk about it?”
Sam arches his eyebrows. “Remember the last time we tried to talk about what’s on our mind? And we don’t even have a third party to mediate.”
“Hmph,” Bucky lets out. “Just tryna help out.”
“Duly noted, but it’s unnecessary.”
Another silence. Bucky glances down at the floor. Sam stares out into the water. The air feels thick, somehow. Through the corner of his eye, Sam watches Bucky as his fingers drum on the edge again. He’s not looking up — his stare anchored to his feet as if there was something drawing him to it.
Sam huffs, and Bucky snaps his head back up. “Why are you so awkward, man?”
Bucky narrows his eyes. “What? You stopped talking. I didn’t know what to say. I’m not going to push you for things you don’t feel like talking about.”
“Right, I keep forgetting you’re not Steve.”
Bucky relaxes a bit. “He did have a way of making you talk, didn’t he?”
“Please,” Sam grins. “I could never keep anything from him. He’d just look at me with a raised eyebrow and I end up spilling everything that was bothering me.” He shakes his head with a bit of laughter. “You know, if it weren’t for his Avenger job, he could have made a damn fine therapist. He always knew the right thing to say, always had the right advice to give you.”
“He’d never listen to his own advice, though,” Bucky smirks. “He’d tell me to not do anything rash and then try and join the army with his bony limbs.”
“Ha, yeah. He was always the ‘do as I say, not as I do’ kind of man.”
Bucky nods in agreement, and silence falls upon them again.
It lasts for only a minute before Bucky breaks it. “I love nights like these.”
“Me too,” Sam replies, once again taking in the night sky. “There’s barely any light pollution here, so the stars are out in full display.”
“Know any constellations?”
“Oh yeah, tons.” Sam chuckles to himself. “I used to memorize a bunch to impress this one girl I was seeing. Snuck her onto the boat one night.”
“I bet she was seeing stars, alright.”
Sam stares at Bucky, slightly taken aback. “You dirty dog.”
The other man smirks. “Oh, forgive me, you obviously only took her on here to woo her. My mistake for assuming anything else.”
“Woo her? What are you, from the 40s?”
Bucky rolls his eyes. He shifts a bit closer. “Well? Did your memorization of the constellations work?”
Sam can smell some of Bucky’s faded cologne. It’s rather...nice. “Yeah, actually. We laid down on the floor of the boat and stargazed. I pointed some out and she seemed interested…” He smirks. “Very interested, even.”
Bucky looks up. “I’m now curious. Tell me about the stars, Sam.”
There goes that flutter again. Sam elects to ignore it. “Alright,” he points at a specific star. “You see that bright star over there?”
Bucky follows his finger. “Yeah.”
“That’s Regulus. It’s part of Leo.” He traces the constellation shape. “A lion.”
“Leo…” Bucky stares at it. “I’ve always been interested in the stars. Where’s Pisces?”
“Pisces?” Sam arches an eyebrow.
“I was born March 10th.”
“Ah,” Sam grins. “Pisces isn’t visible this time of year, sorry to tell you.”
“Damn,” Bucky leans against the edge of the boat, completely facing towards the water now. “You’ll have to bring me back here when it’s visible.”
Sam sighs. “The boat’ll be sold by then.”
“The stars won’t go with it.”
Sam scoffs and shakes his head.
“Aw, come on Sam. I want to be woo’d by your knowledge of stars.”
He snaps his head towards Bucky, who's wearing a smile on his face, still gazing at the water. “Alright, you want to hear more?”
Bucky nods.
Sam points at the sky again. “That’s Gemini over there. It’s a little faded.” He shifts his arm over a bit. “There’s perhaps the most famous constellation — Ursa Major. Otherwise known as the Big Dipper.”
“You know,” Bucky frowns. “I never knew why they called it that.”
“The Big Dipper?” Sam arches an eyebrow. “Because it’s in the shape of a ladle, well, part of the constellation is.”
Bucky’s frown doesn’t disappear. “I don’t see it.”
“Really, man?” Sam points again. “There're three stars that make the handle, and then the four that kind of form a trapezoidal shape. That’s the actual...you know...ladle part.”
In the pale light, Sam can see Bucky’s confused expression. With a sigh, he takes Bucky’s wrist and steps closer to him. He lifts his wrist. “Point.”
Bucky obliges.
Sam moves the wrist so Bucky’s hand is pointing at the top of the handle. “So right where your finger is pointing is the tip of the handle.” He shifts it to the next star, slowly tracing the pattern. “Here, the handle ends, and the dipper part begins.”
“Oh,” Bucky nods. “I see it.” He turns to face Sam and smiles. “Thanks.”
Sam returns the smile, noting how close the two of them are. “Yeah, of course.”
Sam gently lowers Bucky’s hand and lets go of it, but doesn’t move backwards. Bucky turns his body to face Sam’s, his elbow once again resting on the edge of the boat. They're still close to one another — so close that Sam gets that fluttering feeling as he sees the starlight illuminate the other man’s eyes. He can’t help but slowly trail his eye’s downwards to his lips, and a sudden urge to get closer racks his brain. Sam’s eyes shoot up and return to Bucky’s, whose raised eyebrows indicate that he noticed.
Heat rises to his face as Sam realizes what he’s doing, and he quickly clears his throat and looks down. He begins to take a step back before a cold, vibranium hand stops him by grabbing his wrist.
“Wait,” Bucky says, softly.
“Buck…” Sam trails off.
Bucky steps forward this time, his hand still gripping Sam’s wrist. His face is so close to Sam’s now — even closer than it was.
The air seems even thicker than before.
Sam swallows. “What are you…” he finds himself unable to finish.
Bucky leans in and closes the gap between them for a quick press of his lips against Sam’s. He pulls back slowly until their faces are a little bit further apart than before. Sam’s breath catches in his throat, and Bucky releases Sam’s wrist.
There’s silence. Nothing but the creaking of the boat, the wind against the water, and the beating heart in Sam’s ears.
Sam places a hand on the side of Bucky’s face and draws him in. Bucky’s hand finds Sam’s waist and pulls him closer. The kiss is gentle and slow, almost as if they were savoring it. He can feel Bucky’s stubble, taste the faded mint toothpaste, and the hand gripping at his side. They change angles, breathing in each other’s scent, pressed up against each other’s bodies.
Bucky pulls away and his hand flocks up to place it over Sam’s. He carefully removes it from his face and smiles.
Sam can’t help but return it.
“There’s another memory of the boat for you,” Bucky grins.
“My knowledge of the constellations never fails.”
Bucky chuckles at the remark. “Goodnight, Sam.” His voice is soft. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Bucky.”
Sam watches Bucky leave the boat and onto the dock. He turns back to face the water, and leans against the edge. His heart is still racing from the previous moment, and his hand subconsciously touches his lips.
They’ll have to talk about it eventually. But that’s another day’s issue.
Sam sits back down, elbows resting on his knees, head leaning against the boat, staring straight up.
It’s quiet.
Sam smiles.