Work Text:
Bingo Fill: Hurt/Comfort -
It was sunrise, the shades of golden hues shone upon Sam’s tear-stricken face; he gripped the metal balcony of their hotel room. This was not the first time Bucky had seen him like this. Sam tried to focus on his breathing but all he saw was a raging inferno of Riley’s body.
“Sam?” Bucky spoke softly from their shared bed. He sat up and started the kettle and walked out to the balcony to see what was happening. Sam was gasping, clawing at his mind for answers. For closure.
“Sam,” he said softly again as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder “you alright?”
He shook his head. He felt nauseated, like the world around him was just buzzing noise and he; he was breaking down in the middle of it. Bucky took Sam’s hands gently and looked into his eyes. “Sam,” he whispered “focus on my voice.”
His hands are warm, Sam thought as he found those steel blue eyes. “Can you do that for me, Sam?”
He nodded.
The golden sun made Sam look like an angel, standing there: fragile, broken yet so beautiful. Sam took slow, deep breaths as the grip on Bucky’s hand tightened. “That’s good, Sam,” he reassured “you’re going to be okay.”
Sam blinked and wiped away his tears. His chest hurt from crying. He was in reality now. Riley’s gone, Riley’s dead - but he’s safe. He turned to Bucky and sighed with guilt. He felt like there was a lump in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he held back another sob. “I’m sorry that I...wake up and cry and–”
“Hey,” he smiled lightly and his gaze softened “it’s okay. I’m always here for you Sam.”
Sam smiled and let go of their hands, Bucky being a little disappointed in the loss of contact. He looked out into the view. “Thank you,” he said with a smile “who knew you were soft, Barnes?”
“Nah,” he chuckled, “just soft for you.”
They broke out into smiles.
It was Saturday when he happened again. Sam’s mind was tearing itself apart, he saw images, flashes. His palms and back were covered in sweat. His head was spinning, turning. Like he was falling and watching Riley fall all over again. But, it was different. He saw Natasha, her braided hair falling from a cliff. From that godforsaken place.
In the nightmare, no one screamed. No one could. It was just a show, watching everyone fall.
The rails on the balcony can’t save him now. He was a crumbling mess on the floor, hugging his knees and crying until his lungs hurt. Bucky jolted awake once he noticed Sam wasn’t sharing the bed with him. He flicked on the light as the sunrise peaked through the rolling hills and apartment buildings.
He sat down next to Sam and just held him. “Fuck,” Sam said as his chest ached and he hiccuped and groanedd, “I’m sorry,” he apologised as he felt Bucky’s warmth and scent.
“Don’t,” he cradled Sam’s head to his chest and felt his heart racing “just breathe, Sam.”
He took slow deep breaths again. It’s been so long since he’s been held like this. “I’m sorry,” he croaked out again and he wiped away his tears. Bucky’s shirt was stained with Sam’s tears.
Those blue eyes softened again and he got up and started the kettle. The truth was, Bucky had seen Sam like this before and it hurt him, so much. He poured him a mug of warm water and sat with him as Sam regained control of his thoughts and breathing.
“Sorry,” he blurted out again.
“Why are you sorry?” he asked.
“I just...am,” Sam mumbled and finished his mug of water and looked up into his eyes. He felt his breath, his warmth - their legs touching “I’m sorry that you have to - take care of me,”
“Taking care of you isn’t too much trouble,” he reassured.
“It isn’t?” Sam asked, he shuffled closer and let his head rest on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Bucky smiled “you’re worth taking care of, Sam.”
–
It was Monday when Sam was confronted with flashing cameras and screaming fans. Bucky was a few steps away from him, watching as the fans extended out their hands for Captain America. He was aware of the way the people love Sam, crowded around him like a swarm of hungry dogs.
There were too many interviewers for Bucky’s liking. But damn, did Sam pull off his suit. “Captain America, what’s it like to have this many amazing fans?” a news reporter asked.
Bucky eyed the camera, he watched as Sam replied, he turned his head every now and then as they walked down the red carpet with metal gates along the sides to prevent the fans from clawing at Sam.
Then, a swarm of cameras as Sharon stepped down and greeted Sam with a hug. Sam bit his lip nervously, he felt the sweat drip down his forehead, Bucky’s hand twitched. He stepped forward and put himself in front of the cameras.
“Hey! Give him some space, alright?” James told the press as Sam’s eyes darted at the people asking for photos and autographs. He placed a protective hand on Sam’s shoulder.
More cameras snapped.
“We’re just doing our job, Sergeant Barnes...” protested a male reporter.
“And I’m doing mine,” he said firmly as they made their way up the steps. Sam continued to sign autographs, his mouth was tiring out as he plastered smiles for excited fans.
“You’re protective today,” Sharon noted to Bucky as they reached the inside of the building, where the press couldn’t reach them.
“Is that a problem?” Bucky asked.
“No,” Sharon smiled teasingly “it’s just that the media think there’s stuff going on.”
Bucky opened his mouth to protest but Sam entered the building, clearly drained but slightly joyful. “Fuck,” Sam said and buried his face in his hands. He took off the goggles and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “That was a shitshow.”
“You okay?” Bucky asked immediately.
Sharon perked an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, Buck,” Sam mumbled “I think I can handle it.”
“Well, I’m here–”
“I know,” he smiled and that sent butterflies in his stomach.
Thursday, Louisiana.
The bedroom has never felt more suffocating than before. The noise, lights and cameras…Sam was swamped up with blankets and nice-smelling candles. “Jesus,” he said, sniffling as Bucky tossed him another pillow. “I’m fine.”
“You have a cold.” he frowned “that’s not fine.”
Sam groaned, blowing his nose with a tissue. He groaned and leaned back on the bed, watching as Bucky poured a mug of tea for him.
“Look, Barnes,” he said - his voice was nasally and clogged up “you didn’t need to come all the way from Brooklyn just to see me–”
“You’re worth the flight, Sam,” he reassured and placed a gentle hand on his forehead. He frowned “goodness, Sam - you’re hot.”
“Thanks,” he chuckled out. He met with steel blue eyes and he swore time stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky’s smile didn’t disappear from his face.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” Sam blurted, feeling his heart rate go up.
“Doing what?” Bucky asked, confused. Those lips.
“Nothing…” Sam quickly replied. Bucky took care of him, more than he should. Bucky was always there for him, no matter what situation. He always checked up on him during battle and made sure he was safe.
Why did he do it? Why? He watched as Bucky approached the end of the bed and sat down on it. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” Sam mumbled.
Sam woke with Bucky in his arms; he thought - maybe he could have this forever.
Monday, Louisiana.
Bucky wanted to tell Sam how much he cared for him; yearned for him. He didn’t want to mess up the friendship they got going. He was scrubbing the dishes as Sarah laid out cutlery on the table.
“He likes having you around,” Sarah spoke up.
“Hm?” he perked up.
“Sam,” Sarah said as if it was obvious “he likes having you around.”
He blushed “he does?” he continued to look at his plates.
How would he describe Sam Wilson? His smile was so pure, his eyes were so amazing – His laugh was so beautiful. Sam made Bucky feel things, like his body felt alive, happy and full. He would love hearing Sam’s stories and watching him fight in battles. Him.
Sam’s name was so beautiful, Sam’s name was so wonderful and he loved him. He loved him. He had no idea for how long; but he did. He loved him so much it hurt. If he were allowed to drown in a person - Bucky would drown in Sam, sink in him and let him feel Sam - inside and out.
Does Sam know how much he loves having him around? How his words inspire him, how he feels so uplifted and full - how he loves when Sam takes his morning run, how they memorised each other’s coffee orders? Does Sam know how much he wanted to comfort him, forever? To make sure he was safe and sound by the end of the day? Bucky just needs Sam to know; how much he loves him.
He doesn’t know how long he zoned out for.
“You okay?” Sam’s voice asked.
He jumped and smiled lightly “oh, sorry - zoned out for a sec,”
“It’s okay,” he chuckled “I do that too.” He then hands him a cup of coffee “black. Just the way you like it.”
Bucky finished the dishes and took the warm mug of coffee. He smiled at Sam and his heart softened. “Thank you,” he noticed the trail of sweat across Sam’s blue tank top and his chest - he looks so hot in blue.
“What did you say?” Sam questioned, he smiled. He put his hand on his hips. Sarah perked up from his seat smugly. “Did you say I look hot in blue?”
Oh.
Oh. Shit, I said that outloud.
He fumbled with his words. “Nothing,” he blurted, blushing, before going off and finishing his coffee in embarrassment.
–
Sam awoke with another nightmare. All of them were familiar. It was like watching your least favourite movie on repeat. Bucky ran up the steps, from the living room to Sam’s bedroom. He opened the door to see Sam, cuddled up in his blankets and crying.
Sam didn’t want to have Bucky see him like this all the time.
“Sam?” His voice was full of concern, so calm yet - there was an uneasiness. “I’m here,” he walked over in the darkness to Sam, reaching out and feeling his shaking arms. He pulled him in close and Sam tried to resist, but he was tired.
He needed this, badly. God, how he needed to be held and taken care of.
“I’m here,” he reassured softly and cradled his head “breathe, Sam. It’s okay.”
The tears kept on coming, and he took a deep breath. “D’you think Steve actually cared for us? Why would he just get up and leave and give us this huge responsibility like that?” he groaned and clutched onto Bucky’s shirt like it was his lifeline.
“He trusted you with it,” James reassured and rubbed his back carefully.
He took deep breaths and inhaled Bucky’s scent; he felt his stubble, his metal fingers and most of all - he was humming. It was a song that he knew. It was a soft song, ‘Everybody Loves Somebody’. Bucky was humming it, to Sam - to calm him.
He felt his heart soar, like he was touching the clouds and feeling free again.
God, he was so gone for James and he had no idea.
Bucky was holding an angel in his arms, his reason to live and to feel alive - and Sam had no idea.
Sam cried more, and it broke Bucky just a little. His lip quivered. He continued to humm until he softly whispered the lyrics.
Bucky began to cry because Sam deserved to be taken care of, he deserved to be loved. He hated seeing Sam like this; not because he didn’t want to take care of Sam - because he couldn’t stand him hurting. Crying - Like this every night. He just wanted to fix it.
Sam got used to Bucky’s different types of looks. The staring. He noticed Bucky only gave Sam his ‘Samuel Stare’(Sarah liked to call it) and it’s when Bucky’s eyes went soft, when the corner of his eyes crinkled when he beamed. He saw the twinkling and glistening in his eyes from the tears.
He was giving Sam that look now, when holding him. Sam’s throat was dry. “You must be sick of me,” he mumbled and sat up.
“No,” Bucky’s hands found Sam’s and he smiled “I'm never gonna get sick of you.”
“Really? Why are you crying?” Sam mumbling sleepily.
“Because I don’t want you to get hurt,” he placed Sam’s hands softly and cradled him closer “because I - I care for you.”
Sam chewed on his lip “prove it.”
“Okay,” he whispered lovingly and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Sam’s breath was steady and he was safe, he was loved. Bucky continued to sing until Sam fell asleep in his arms.
“Bucky,” Sam said before falling asleep.
“Yeah?” he perked up and felt the softness of Sam’s skin and his voice. They felt each other’s heartbeat, like it was the only thing worth living for.
“Thank you...for taking care of me.” he smiled softly and he let the tears fall away.
“No problem, Sam.” he pulled him closer and felt his heartbeat. He felt his breath, his skin. His eyes glinted in the moonlight – and he smiled. Smiled wider.
Sam’s breath hitches, there was a simmering tension in the room.
“Have you ever...been in love?” he mumbled.
Bucky smiled and chuckled “why’d you ask?”
“I -” he swallowed “I dunno, I feel like - I feel loved around you.”
Bucky cupped Sam’s cheek “I’m gonna be here for you, Sam.” Sam felt his warm hand, the mixture of cold metal and the feeling of his warm breath and his heart was racing. Faster and faster.
“Really?” Sam said in disbelief.
“Really,” Bucky sighed and his eyes dropped to Sam’s lips.
A pause.
He captured Sam’s lips with his own. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? For Sam, everything about Sam. It was soft, sweet and Sam was kissing back. It felt good, whole…
Bucky pulled back and looked to the floor, blushing. “Sorry,” he apologised quickly “I–”
Sam was breathless, smitten and dazed. “Shut up Barnes,” he gasped and kissed him again. The feeling of each other’s lips, their grasp, their touch. Sam felt his teeth, his tongue, his warmth and he felt loved. His hands felt Bucky’s shirt and he gripped it lightly as they continued to kiss, kiss and kiss until their brain went fuzzy.
Sam broke out into a smile and that’s all Bucky needed to know; that they were loved.