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Bucky walks into the house as AJ and Cass run out giggling, saying something about finding Mom and asking her for her phone. He had been out on the boat with Sarah while Sam took his turn to watch the boys, who had the day off from school due to it being parent-teacher day.
They had fallen into an easy rhythm of switching off helping Sarah in whatever ways they could when they were home from missions. Sometimes it was for a few days but other times, like right now, there was a stretch of weeks without them being called into the field.
Bucky didn’t mind. He was liking living with Sam, becoming as part of this town where he grew up, being around the kids and Sarah. Even the Louisiana sun he was getting used to, sporting tan lines that Sam teased him about. He smiles softly to himself, which turns into a wide grin when he walks around the corner and sees Sam. He’s sitting on the floor with Christmas lights snaking up his legs and around his whole body.
Sam puts his hand on his face with a sigh when he sees Bucky. “You had to come back right now, huh?”
Bucky tries to get a hold of what he assumes is a shit-eating grin on his face but he’s definitely not succeeding because Sam looks more adorable than he has any right to. “Trying out a new look?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. The boys wanted to do Christmas in July but Sarah threw out the tree last year cause it was getting old I guess. So uh.” Sam raises his arms awkwardly in a demonstrative gesture. “I’m the tree.”
Bucky shakes his head, warmth blooming in his chest at how ridiculously domestic their lives have become. Part of him wants to tease Sam forever about this but a bigger part of him also wants to treasure these moments of quiet joy. Just as he realizes he’s been staring, though Sam has also been returning his gaze like they do sometimes, he hears the sounds of little feet running back into the house. AJ and Cass round the corner with Sarah’s phone held up triumphantly in AJ’s hand, and Sarah close behind.
Her loud infectious laugh rings out when she sees Sam. The boys take turn snapping photos of him. Sam leans into it, posing for them, to their delight.
“Alright, alright, I think you’ve messed with Uncle Sam enough for today, we gotta go to your parent teacher thing.” Sarah says, ruffling their hair affectionately and grabbing the phone from AJ’s hand.
“You think you can turn Sam back into a pumpkin here while I bring the boys over to the school?” Sarah asks Bucky with a smirk.
“Yeah, I think I got it. C’mon, Princess,” he says, chuckling when Sam glares at him but takes the hand he extends to help him get up anyway.
“Text me one of those photos.”
“Hey! You better not! I’m your brother, you have to be on my side!” Sam yells out as Sarah walks away, her cackling an answer to which side she’s going to be on.
“Some random white man shows up and flirts with her and she’s a goner. Traitor.” Sam mumbles to himself, yanking at the lights and glaring at Bucky.
Bucky rolls his eyes and watches as Sam only succeeds in tangling himself further. “Little help here?”
“Oh, are you talking to me? I thought I was some random white man.”
“Bucky…” Sam grits out, turning to try to find the end of the lights so he can untangle the mess the boys have made.
“Alright, alright, hold on. Stop messing with it, you’re making it worse.”
Sam huffs but stills as Bucky gets closer, eyeing the lights with a furrowed brow.
Him and Sam are in close proximity a lot, what with living and working together. But the times at home or at Sarah’s, when they enjoy a beer on the porch and accidentally bump knees feel- different, more intimate. And this is one of those times, in the quiet of Sarah’s living room, the dusky evening light coming in through the windows, the battery powered lights throwing Sam’s face in stark contrasts of light and dark, highlighting his cheekbones and the brown of his eyes. God, he’s beautiful.
Jesus, Bucky, get a grip.
Bucky tries to breathe in and out evenly as he grabs Sam’s hips, turning him slightly to look for the end of the lights.
“Ha!” he exclaims softly, when finds it twisted up in another layer of lights on Sam’s lower back and looks up in his moment of triumph to make eye contact with Sam. They’re standing almost chest to chest, or Bucky’s chest to the side of Sam’s body where he’s half turned rather, and an electric moment passed between them. Fuck, this is really not good for Bucky’s whole charade he’s been maintaining where he pretends he’s not in love with Sam Wilson. So he ducks his head, murmuring at Sam to turn fully so he can get the end out of the mess of lights and wire on his back.
He works slowly, their breaths synced up in the silence of the house.
“How was the catch today?” Sam asks quietly.
“It was alright, nothing too special but we caught enough to sell for the week.”
Their easy talk back and forth might have been a good distraction, if he wasn’t so damn distracted already by having to put his hands all over Sam.
He murmurs a quiet sorry as he moves his arm along with the wire around Sam’s hand, brushing his cheek with his hand in the process. The phantom warmth the touch leaves makes him miss the next question Sam asks him and god, he’s so gone. He takes another steadying breath as he asks Sam to repeat himself, focusing on his voice and the task at hand. Which, actually isn’t helping much either because Sam is talking in a smooth murmur and the task at hand is currently requiring him to touch Sam’s firm chest.
He can also feel Sam’s breath skirting across his neck where he’s leaning down and he has stop himself from shivering. Okay, someone up there must be really determined to test him today because all of this is entirely unfair. He’s never gonna say no to being close to Sam, he basically orbits the man for god’s sake, but this, this just leaves him aching for more in a way that’s almost painful.
“Okay, lift your legs a little, yeah, like that.” Bucky wraps up the last of the lights in his hand, and gets back up from where he was crouched down. “Alright, you’re free.”
He looks at Sam with a grin when he’s at eye level again and they’re still standing way too close. Sam’s eyes are wide and searching his face for what- Bucky doesn’t know. His breath is also coming out harder, he notices, and before Bucky can wonder too much about why- soft lips meet his own, and he freezes, clutching Sam’s shirt with the hand that’s wrapped up in the string lights. He recovers fast though, sniper reflexes and all and starts kissing back with a small gasp.
Sam’s lips are ridiculously soft, and so is the kiss- and of all the ways Bucky imagined this might happen, maybe after a mission when they’re all hopped up on adrenaline or at home when they’re arguing about something dumb or spending a night in on the couch- in Sarah’s house after unwrapping Sam from Christmas lights definitely wasn’t one of them. But it’s so fucking good, even better than he could’ve imagined- because it’s Sam. Their lips move together, slick with spit, as Bucky deepens the kiss, the forgotten Christmas lights falling to the ground as he cups Sam’s face.
He starts moving Sam backwards until they hit the wall- needing the solid wall behind them because he feels almost giddy and breathless with how good this simple kiss is. Sam moans into his mouth as Bucky licks his way inside, their tongues moving against each other as the kiss turns more frantic.
Sam pulls away first, breathing heavily, his pupils dark with desire as he leans back against the wall to look at Bucky.
“If I knew all I do to get you to kiss me was wrap you up like Christmas Tree, I would’ve done it months again.” Bucky says, grinning.
“You’re an idiot.” Sam chuckles despite himself as he hits Bucky’s chest lightly. “But also, I wanna take you home.”
“Yeah?” Bucky knows it's a dumb thing to say maybe, but he can’t help but check because he doesn’t quite believe the words.
“Yeah.” Sam replies, a sweet smile on his face as he tugs Bucky’s hand to lead him out the front door.