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Currently, Bucky was panicking. He may have just accidentally admitted to his best friend that he’s in love with him. It’s not his fault that he forgot Sam speaks Arabic, he’s had a long ass week.
It had started about a month after Bucky moved down to Louisiana. He hadn’t meant to start this tradition, but every Friday Sam would invite him over to the house so they could have dinner with Sarah and the kids. And one Friday, as he was leaving, he turned back to snark some joke at Sam and saw him standing under the porch light. Which is exactly what he expected to see, he just didn’t expect Sam to look so damn good.
He was wearing the gray sweater that only had a zipper about a quarter of the way and showed off his muscles really nicely. The light of the porch made it seem like he was glowing, and Bucky thought he looked like an angel. Sam’s mouth was doing that little half smirk that he does whenever they banter. Overall, Sam was beautiful, and Bucky was struck speechless.
He lost whatever sarcastic reply he had meant to say, and all that came out was a soft Russian expletive. He picked up the scattered pieces of his brain and made it seem like he knew what he was doing. Bucky said “I love you” but in that sarcastic, banter tone, and in Russian. Sam was none the wiser to what he actually said, and just thought he was cursing him in another language.
And then it became a tradition. He would say goodbye to Sam, share a few witty lines as he was walking away, and then turn to look over his shoulder and admire Sam and say “I love you” in whatever language he could think of at the time. He had cycled through about eight or so languages like French, Chinese, Hungarian, but he tried to stay away from ones he thought Sam might recognize.
This Friday they were celebrating extra specially for Cass’ birthday, so Sam was dressed up extra nice. It had been a good party, there was cake, soda, and Sam barbecued. Everything went completely normal up until the time came for him to leave. It was later than usual and Bucky was actually really tired. Sam had offered to let him sleep on the couch rather than make the 20 minute drive to his apartment, but Bucky thought that if he had to wake up in the morning and see Sam cooking breakfast or something domestic he might actually confess his love in English.
And it would be a nice thing to do that, but Bucky knows that Sam will never love him back. How could he? Bucky is… broken, used, a murderer. So, he declines, saying something about having to do some chore that he could totally do tomorrow. He gives Sarah, Cass and AJ hugs as he usually does, and Sam walks him out to the porch.
“You sure you’re gonna be alright to drive? I don’t want to have to bail you from jail because you accidentally crashed and destroyed some 7-11 at midnight.” Sam’s tone was joking, like always, but Bucky could tell that he was actually worried about whether he would be okay.
“Yeah, I got it, don’t worry. If I actually get too tired then I’ll just pull over and sleep in the car. But I’m fine.” Sam gave him a look at that, so he said, “I’ll text you when I get home, alright?” Sam said, “Yeah, you better.”
Bucky got halfway down the path before he turned back around to complete his ritual. He turned to the porch and saw the light giving Sam that ethereal glow, shadows highlighting the curves of his face. The vision took his breath away momentarily.
“See you later, asshat. انا احبك” Bucky was so enamored in Sam’s beauty that he completely forgot that Sam speaks Arabic very fluently. He didn’t even remember the fact until he saw recognition and confusion fall onto Sam’s face. Bucky panicked and did the only thing he could think of. He turned back around and walked away as quickly as possible.
Once in his car, he let out a breath but didn’t take too long before driving away. His mind was racing with thoughts. Sam had heard him say “I love you”. He had confessed his love for his best friend, his partner, in a language that said best friend was fluent in. Fuck. Sam was going to hate him now, he would never want to see him again except for when they had to save the world, and he would have to move back to Brooklyn.
He ignored Sam’s calls and texts the rest of the night, and he didn’t sleep. He didn’t look at his phone the next morning either. In fact, he successfully ignored Sam, and Sarah, for four days. Bucky stayed in his house as much as he could, only left to go to the store, and made sure to avoid any place that Sam usually went. He thought about making calls to sell his apartment but the last rational part of his brain decided that he was probably overreacting. Didn’t everyone say you should wait a week or something before making big decisions?
The fact that Sam was still calling and texting to get a hold of him seemed to mean that he didn’t totally hate him. Either that or he just wanted to tell Bucky how much he hated him before he cut off contact, but that didn’t seem very likely.
On the fifth day of Bucky’s seclusion, Sarah Wilson had enough. Sam was non-stop pacing around the house with worry. “Why hasn’t he texted me back? Does he think I hate him? I don’t hate him. I could never hate him.” He wouldn’t shut up, and frankly Sarah was tired of it. The whole Wilson family knew where Bucky lived even if they didn’t go there often, so Sarah grabbed the keys to her truck and marched out of the house.
When Bucky heard the knock on his door, he was slightly confused, but then he realized it was probably one of the Wilson siblings and he panicked again. He looked out his peephole and saw Sarah in front of his door, looking ready to commit a murder. Bucky will admit that there’s not many things he'd be afraid of. However, Sarah Wilson is a force to be reckoned with and he doesn’t have so much of a death wish that he’d get on her bad side. So he opens the door.
Before he can say anything, Sarah is marching in, throwing her keys down on the nearest surface. Oh she’s mad mad. Bucky gulps but shuts the door. When he turns back, she’s standing in the middle of his living room looking straight at him.
“Uh… Can I get you something to drink?” He’s terrified, like, shaking in his boots. He’ll never admit it, especially not to Sam, but you’d have to be an idiot to not be scared whenever a woman is mad like that.
“No thanks, James. I’m fine.” Her tone is sickly sweet. His palm is getting sweaty so he rubs it on his pants. Bucky then decides that the best thing to do is sit down and just take whatever she’s about to throw at him. He walks over to his couch, giving Sarah a wide berth, and sits down. She doesn’t move. He’s about to say something about all the chairs he has around, there's only one other but he really doesn’t know what else to do and he’s starting to sweat.
“What the hell did you say to my brother?” Bucky is slightly taken aback, he thought Sam would’ve told her. Sam did tell her, she just wants to hear it from him.
“Uhm… I kind of told him that I loved him… In Arabic… Because I forgot that he speaks it…” He doesn’t know what else to say, that’s it, that’s what happened.
“And? What did you do then?”
“I… got in my car? And left?”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because… I thought Sam would hate me. I was right, wasn’t I? That’s why you’re here. Fuck-” She cuts him off before he can really get going in his rant.
“You’re an idiot.” Now Bucky really doesn’t know what to say. This whole situation is making him uncomfortable. He had been expecting Sarah to yell at him, not… interrogate him?
“Pardon me?”
“You heard me. You’re an idiot, James Barnes. My brother is also an idiot. He loves you too. It’s all he’s been able to talk about. He’s pacing the whole house, wearing grooves in my floors, going on and on about Bucky! ‘Bucky hates me now, Bucky won’t answer my calls, I miss Bucky, I love Bucky!’ You’re both being absolute dumbasses and I’m tired of it, so now you’re going to come back to the house with me so that you guys can kiss and make up and I can have some peace!” Bucky was shell shocked. Sam loves him? Sam loves him? Frankly he didn’t believe it, but it’s not like he has the time to say that before Sarah is marching over, grabbing his metal wrist and yanking him up from off the couch. She drags him out of the apartment, locks it too, and all the way down to her truck before he can even think of words.
“Wait! What? No, I can’t go see him! You- you’ve got it wrong-!” Sarah is already shoving him into the passenger seat. He knows he could stop her, he’s a super soldier, but he doesn’t want to hurt her accidentally, and he also kind of wants to know if she’s right.
“Shut up, Barnes. You’re already in the car, you’re coming with me.” Well, he can’t argue with that, and she’s still kinda mad so he thinks it best to just stay quiet.
The 20 minute drive to the Wilson house feels like it takes hours. The seconds drag on for minutes as his mind runs through all the possibilities that come with seeing Sam again. What if Sarah is wrong? He trusts her, but… And what if she’s right? What if Sam does love him? Does that mean he can finally have everything he’s dreamed about the past few months? Could he actually be able to have Sam? It seems like a far-fetched possibility. Bucky doesn’t know what he’d even do if he could date Sam. He was so content on just being whatever Sam wanted him to be, a best friend, a partner, that he never let himself think about more.
They finally arrive at the Wilson house and Bucky takes a second to catch his breath. He doesn’t know what to expect when he walks into the house, but he doesn’t have much time to think about it before Sarah is ordering him out of the car. Every step towards the house feels heavier and he starts to think that it was a bad idea listening to Sarah. He could’ve just stayed in his apartment and moved back to Brooklyn at the end of the month without having to hear Sam tell him all the ways he’s disgusted by Bucky. Sarah flicks him on the arm when they reach the door.
“What you’re gonna do now is you’re gonna go inside, you’re gonna explain your idiot behavior and tell him you love him in English, and then both of you are gonna come to me and grovel for forgiveness for your idiot actions. Am I clear?” Grovel? Bucky’s never groveled in his life. He’s about to say so but takes one look at Sarah’s face and decides better of it.
“Yes, ma’am.” She opens the door and shoves him inside.
He stumbles for a second as he realizes he doesn’t know where Sam is, but the house isn’t that big so he has no excuse not to find him. He looks around the kitchen and living room first before going back to the bedrooms. Sarah’s door is closed and he doesn’t think that Sam would be in there. The boy’s room is open and their toys are scattered on the floor, they’re at school right now. It’s just Sam and himself in the house. Bucky finally reaches Sam’s room. The door is closed but he listens at the door and thinks he hears someone in there. He knocks lightly; tap tap.
“Go away, please, Sarah.” So Sam doesn’t know he’s here. Bucky takes a deep breath to steel himself and opens the door anyway.
Sam is sitting on his bed, facing away from the door. He turns when he hears the door open and his eyes go wide when he sees Bucky standing in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything.
Bucky clears his throat, “Uh… Sarah kinda dragged me here. I… I can go, I know you probably don’t want to see me.” He talks softly, almost whispering. Sam doesn’t say anything. He gets up from his bed and walks slowly over to the door. Bucky looks to the floor, unable to meet Sam’s eyes. Sam stops in front of him, about a foot away, and reaches his hand out. His right hand grabs Bucky’s metal arm and his left comes to rest on Bucky’s right shoulder.
“Did you mean it?” Sam whispers.
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” Bucky’s eyes are starting to fill with tears at the emotion that charges the quiet moment. He tries to blink them back to no avail.
“انا احبك ايضا” The tears fall from his eyes. Sam loves him too. Sam loves him too. Sam loves him too. Sam loves him too. He can barely believe it.
Sam moves closer slowly, as if he’s afraid of breaking the quiet that surrounds them. Excruciatingly slow, Sam brings his hands up to cup Bucky’s cheeks, wiping away his tears. Bucky finally moves and brings his arms around Sam, pulling him into a tight and reassuring hug.
He whispers “I love you” into Sam’s neck in as many languages as he can think of, but most of all English.