Chapter Text
Even in the heat of Louisiana, Bucky is cold. It’s like he never really thawed after that last time in the deep freeze. If he’s being honest, he hasn’t felt warm since the 40’s; before the cold, wet nights sleeping on colder, wetter ground; not since summer in Brooklyn, sweating his ass off working in the midday sun so he could make a few bucks for him and Stevie to take a pair of dames out dancing.
He doesn’t get hot like that anymore. They only time he sweats now is when he wakes up from nightmares, gasping to bring air into lungs too tight to receive it. But that’s not warmth.
He doesn’t get to have warmth anymore.
The first time that changes is on the boat.
AJ and Cass had begged him to tag along on their Saturday morning fishing trip and he sure as hell didn’t have it in him to say no to those two. Despite the fact that he’d never been fishing a day in his life. He figured he could pick it up easily enough: bait a hook, toss it in the water, and wait. It wasn’t rocket science.
Sam had laughed at him when he said that and told him never to say it to anyone in town unless he wanted to get cussed out by some 80-year-old fishermen.
Still, how hard could it be?
Very hard. Apparently.
He gave up after an hour; enjoying the feel of the rocking boat and scorching sun on his face more than baiting hooks anyway.
“What was that you said about fishing not being rocket science?” Sam teased from beside him.
“Shut up, you haven’t caught anything either.”
“Yet. It’s all about timing, Buck. You gotta be patient, man. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
“It’s boring, is what it is.”
“If you’re so bored why don’t you make yourself useful and bring us working folk some snacks.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and shoved Sam’s shoulder. ‘Working’ was a strong word for what they were doing. He got up anyway.
“Aye aye, captain.” He replied, with a mock salute.
Sam laughed, tossing his head back. He looked loose and carefree; happy in a way Bucky only got small glimpses of in between battles and press conferences, in the small quiet moments like today. He’d do anything to see that relaxed look on Sam’s face more often.
Eventually, he gave in to the calming lull and white noise of the waves, drifting into an almost sleep on the boat’s bench. Laughter was interspersed with bird chirps and splashing, and occasionally an excited holler as one of their poles finally yielded results.
“Hey sleepyhead, you’re gonna burn if you don’t move soon. Come help me clean up before we head back in.”
Bucky opened his eyes to see Sam’s face hovering above him, haloed by the bright sun. He looked like a goddamn angel. If he had the wings on right now…
Sam put a hand on his cheek.
“I don’t think I got to you soon enough, you’re already a bit pink. You feel warm?”
It hit him right then that he did. Not just his skin warming to the touch, his entire body felt pleasantly warm, right to his very core, a place he assumed would always be cold, always be too frozen to ever thaw. In that moment, all he felt was warmth.
“Yeah, yeah, feels good.”
“Come on, let’s put those muscles to use.” Sam held out a hand and he took it, pulling himself upright.
And if he felt the warmth from Sam’s hands for the rest of the day, well, Bucky wasn’t complaining.