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Fic In A Box 2021
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Published:
2021-11-20
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2,702
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1/1
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Woke Up On a Boat

Summary:

The last three days all started the same. Bucky woke up, joined Sam fishing, made an idiot out of himself, they avoided each other, went to sleep on separate decks, then wake up and repeat. Sam didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong and when Bucky tried to explain, it was like he . . . glitched and reset to the last thing he said.

Notes:

Sorry for the lateness, but I hope you enjoy this foolishness!

Work Text:

Bucky woke up to the world swaying underneath him. His stomach rolled, remembering a long ago mission and a week spent in a hammock suspended far above the ground waiting for his target to arrive. But he wasn’t in a hammock, not on anything soft in fact, still too uncomfortable with the idea he might sleep too well and wake up someone completely different. Underneath his blanket was hard floor, but morphed into warm, aged wood as his fingers scrabbled for clues.

He was on the boat. Sam’s boat. He and Sam were on the boat and they’d stayed out overnight on a fishing trip.

Relaxing again for a moment, his spine appreciated the chance to pop and realign, but his hips protested the time spent pressing against the unyielding floor. With a groan, Bucky swept the blanket off and sat up, squinting against the bright morning light.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Sam called, causing Bucky to track his moment through the big side window of the cabin. He lifted his fishing gear and jerked his head, inviting Bucky to go with him. “Much longer and you would have missed all these bites. Shake a leg.”

#

Bucky woke up on the boat, rolled over, and scrunched the blanket under his face, wishing it wouldn’t take thirty minutes to suffocate. He’d definitely make noise first and then Sam would come see what the hubbub was, then Bucky would have to make up a story, and despite his best efforts, two awkward scenarios didn’t cancel each other out. It just made everything worse. Embarrassment seeped out of every pore, and he wished desperately for a fast motorcycle and clear roads all the way to New York.

He stood up, ignoring the tightness in his muscles from sleeping on the floor, and cracked his neck. It was another beautiful morning on the gently rolling water. While he didn’t want to jinx them, he half wished for just a small sign the universe cared about his state of mind. Just a few clouds or a sprinkle of rain to ruin the mood.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Sam said, patting the open door as he paused with his fishing gear. “Much longer and you would have missed all these bites.”

“What?” Bucky asked, wondering if somehow Sam didn’t care at all to just sweep Bucky’s previous behaviour so deeply under the rug. It had been stupid to stealth kiss Sam to get over his nerves, he got that now, but he couldn’t just pretend it didn’t happen.

“Shake a leg,” Sam said, eyebrows lifted as he smiled and jerked his head. “I’ll set you a line.”

#

Bucky woke up on the boat and stared at the ceiling. Something weird was going on. He rolled up and lifted his knees, curling his arms around his shins as he set his chin on his leg and glared at the blinking electronics under the helm that he blamed for this cursed existence. Air curled through the open door and tickled his bare back, chilling him, but making it easier to concentrate.

The last three days all started the same. Bucky woke up, joined Sam fishing, made an idiot out of himself, they avoided each other, went to sleep on separate decks, then wake up and repeat. Sam didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong and when Bucky tried to explain, it was like he . . . glitched and reset to the last thing he said.

Bucky had searched the entire boat looking for anything out of the ordinary and found nothing. They were too far out for cell service, and apparently no one had realized the radios were down. As far as Sam was concerned, everything was going according to plan, they’d trawled out to a favorite fishing spot, spent the night, and intended to go back in at noon. At noon, something happened, knocked out the electronics and made starting the boat a fool’s game. Sam still wasn’t too worried and decided they’d spend another night try again in the morning, and worst-case scenario, Sarah would send someone after them after another day.

Except they never got to that point because the day kept repeating.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Much longer and you would have missed all these bites. Shake a leg.”

Bucky rose in one fluid motion, took Sam’s fishing gear and flung it as far as he could into the sea.

#

Bucky woke up on the boat and didn’t get up. Sam said something, but Bucky very consciously did not listen. Around noon Bucky sensed a shadow over him, but stubbornly kept his eyes shut. He didn’t move until he felt the air around him shift and a new warmth near his head as Sam laid down with him on the floor.

“So, bad day, huh?” Sam asked, his voice soft next to Bucky’s ear.

“You could say that,” Bucky said, concentrating on sucking in as much air as he could, feeling his chest expand until the moment of first uncomfortableness, and then pushing all the air out again. So many days passed and nothing Bucky did mattered.

“Anything I can help with?” Sam asked, lifting an arm to brush his knuckles across Bucky’s shoulder.

“I think I just want to keep sleeping,” Bucky said, still mentally if not physically exhausted from the day where he dived off the boat and swam until the reset swept him back to his hellish starting point.

“Ok, but not here,” Sam said, twisting over to his hands and knees to loom over Bucky’s face. “C’mon, get up.”
.
Bucky let Sam pull him to his feet and usher him down the stairs to the cot Sam had set up either last night or a month ago. Sam gestured and waited until Bucky sat. A pad cushioned the surface, more comfortable than Bucky would have expected.

“There you go,” Sam said, even snapping a blanket over Bucky when he finally settled down on his side. “You take a nap, I’ll go fix the boat and we’ll be home by dark.”

Bucky waited until Sam was back upstairs before he heaved a sigh. Everything smelled like Sam, he was warm and comfortable for the first time in what felt like far too long. He closed his eyes and let the gentle waves rock him back to sleep.

#

“Hey Sam, if you knew it was your last day on earth, what would you do?” Bucky asked after he took Sam’s hand to get up and took the offered fishing pole again. He knew they wouldn’t catch anything, but he went through the motions from letting out the line to casting without getting anything tangled or accidentally sticking Sam in the back with his hook. Again.

“You’re getting really good at that,” Sam said, suspicion dripping from his near accusation.

“I had a good teacher,” Bucky said, keeping his straight face while he watched Sam slowly take the compliment. Just when Sam allowed himself a shrug and a self-satisfied smile, he continued, “Sarah gave me some tips before we left.”

Sam flicked his arm out to punch Bucky in the arm, but forgot which arm he was dealing with and yelped when he struck metal. He glared, shaking his hand in mock pain while he muttered under his breath about ungrateful houseguests and which side he’d be on next time Sarah went after Bucky for his wet towels on the bathroom floor.

“Here, let me kiss it better,” Bucky teased, holding his metal hand out so that when Sam inevitably knocked it away, it’d sting him again.

Sam’s warm palm fit perfectly against his.

“I dare you,” Sam said, making the subtext text as he watched Bucky as intently as he’d ever taunted Bucky about staring.

“You don’t really want me to,” Bucky said, turning his head to watch as the gray sea rolled around them. He had firsthand experience for how much Sam didn’t want to be kissed by Bucky.

“You think I would sully the tradition of the dare?” Sam asked, tugging until Bucky abandoned his intention to glare a fish onto the end of his hook and turned to look his partner in the eye. “It hurts. I dare you to kiss it better.”

Bucky knew he couldn’t blame the warmth on his cheeks on any kind of sunburn. He lifted Sam’s hand slowly, willing him to pull away sooner rather than later, before Bucky lost the last bit of his heart to his hopeless dream. But then his mouth touched skin, his lips pressed lightly over the warmth of Sam’s skin. Before he could second guess himself, he kissed over every knuckle, licking his lips afterward and lowering Sam’s hand.

He didn’t take his eyes off the decking.

“Yeah, that helps,” Sam said, trying to tug Bucky closer until he sighed and took the step himself. “There might be another place that hurts though.”

Darting his eyes, Bucky frantically looked for what else would dare touch Sam, before he realized Sam’s raised eyebrow was making fun of him. He rolled his eyes, but Sam waited for him, waited for his nerves to settle, waited for him to decide. “Your - uh- your lips are a little chapped there,” Bucky said, wishing he had literally any of the charm the textbooks claimed he used to have. “Must be kinda uncomfortable?”

“You better believe it,” Sam said, pretending to use a hangdog expression to inch Bucky closer to him. “You gonna kiss ‘em better too?”

“Yeah, I- yeah,” Bucky lifted his other hand to Sam’s jaw, tracing the bone, and angling his chin up. Sam’s warm brown eyes darted between his, and they were sure, and they invited him in. He leaned closer, creating a warm bubble around just the two of them, and slid their mouths together.

Sam took control. Having gained Bucky’s cooperation, he slid one hand across Bucky’s back, and trailed the other up Bucky’s metal arm to mirror Bucky’s grip on his jaw. His lips twitched into a smile as Bucky let out a small whine, and he surged up to deepen the kiss. It was everything Bucky had wanted it to be the first time he’d tried.

He followed after Sam when he pulled away, opening his eyes and blinking hard at the sunset cutting straight into his eyes. Sam held him back, hand briefly dipping to his throat to keep Bucky still before quickly hooking around to squeeze the back of his neck.

“This.”

“What?” Bucky asked, leaning his head forward to press his nose into Sam’s cheek. Sam fit in his arms better than Bucky had ever imagined.

“This is what I’d do if I knew it was my last day on earth,” Sam said, his fingers inching up into the longer parts of Bucky’s hair, angling him for another kiss- a hot flash, before he continued. “I’d kiss you. I’d play catch with the boys. I’d dance with Sarah in the kitchen. Then I’d kiss you again.”

“That sounds like a real nice day,” Bucky said, tilting his head so Sam would keep petting him. He had the quick thought that maybe he could do another month on the boat if only he could get Sam to stroke him more often.

“Yeah, c’mon downstairs and I’ll show you what I’d do with my last night.”

#

Bucky woke up on the boat and sighed, turning over to snuggle back into Sam’s side, hoping for better news the next time he woke.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Sam said, pulling his arm out from between them to squeeze across Bucky’s shoulders. “You better wake up. Looks like we’re about to have company.”

“Sam?” Bucky asked, trying to shake his fatigue. The boat rolled underneath him, under the mat they’d pulled up from below deck, and the beginning sprinkles of a rainstorm splashed over his bare feet.

Sam twisted a little, trying to coax Bucky out of his armpit where Bucky was determined to stay just in case it turned out to be a dream the moment he opened his eyes. It was different. Something had changed. He felt Sam’s fingers in his hair again and sighed again, though this time it was much happier.

“You went to sleep with me. What? Did you think you weren’t going to wake up with me too?” Sam teased, pulling away but only far enough so Bucky would have to blink his eyes open. “Shake a leg man, that portal is only getting bigger.”

Orange sparks spun out over the deck, an oval slowly growing larger as if even the Sorcerer Supreme had trouble reaching through whatever happened to strand heir small boat out alone on the sea. Sam sat up, crossing his legs as he propped his chin up on his fist. His white boxer briefs stretched across his thick thighs. Bucky made a grab for the blanket, dragging it over his lap when he realized too late to make a move that his own underwear dangled from the steering mechanism.

“Wilson, Barnes,” Strange drawled, finally floating through a portal barely big enough to dive through, his hair unkempt and his eyes wild. Maybe Bucky should have been glad to be stuck on a boat rather than whatever Strange had gone through.

“Dr. Strange,” Sam acknowledged with an ironic head nod.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, seeing no reason to beat around the bush. He should have suspected Strange a lot earlier in his time loop. Relief that he was finally going to get off this boat couldn’t hold a candle to his much larger fear about whether Sam would still let them kiss even after getting off this boat.

“Nothing too serious, just tying up some loose ends,” Strange said, tugging on his sleeves but failing to straighten any of the wrinkles out of his shirt. “I’m here to rescue you.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam said, still unimpressed. “You’ve come to rescue us, after twelve hours adrift?”

“Yes, well,” Strange cleared his throat and idly rubbed over the left side of his chest. “Your sister can be very persuasive. And she hits rather hard.”

“Yeah, that’s Sarah for you, but she’s never sent a search party this quick?” Sam said, sibling pride and irritation both warring in his voice. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Strange muttered under his breath.

“What the hell do you mean it’s been six days!”

“It’s been a lot longer than that,” Bucky growled, though he refused to do anymore math to figure out exactly how long.

“Oh, well, you’ll have to speak to Parker about that,” Strange said, waving away Sam’s concerns like a man who never feared retribution from a partner.

Sam stood up, a fluid motion that flexed his thighs and was almost enough to distract Bucky. “Who’s Parker?” he asked, pointing a finger at Strange, then pivoted to stab the same finger at Bucky. “And what do you mean, more than six days?”

“Um-” Bucky hedged.

#

Bucky woke up not on a boat, but in a bed, warm if a little too cramped for two grown men.

Sam had spooned up behind him and forgoing his morning run, kept his hand anchored on Bucky’s bare belly. He’d been a little prickly over the idea that Bucky might have had so long to dissect his every hope and dream, but eventually accepted Bucky’s assurances they’d really just fished and bullshitted about several of the movies they’d seen.

Bucky kinda wished they had gotten around to hopes and dreams, or maybe even kinks so he could make sure to keep Sam interested in him. However, he was just glad to eat something that wasn’t an egg salad sandwich and to take a shower in the hottest water he could stand. After getting towed in by Strange and hugged to within an inch of his life by Sarah and the boys taking turns with him and Sam, they’d been too tired to do anything but collapse.

He’d been surprised when it turned out to be together, but pleasantly so.

Behind him, Sam stretched and smacked his lips against Bucky’s metal shoulder. Bucky froze for a moment, wondering if Sam would remember what happened, who he was with, but then he thought of the perfect thing to say.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”