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“What do you mean, you ‘lost’ it? How the hell do you lose your arm?” Sam stared at Bucky, who shrugged.
“Someone stole it,” Sam guessed, and he immediately knew from the way Bucky looked down that Sam was right. And Sam was fucking pissed now, because who the fuck steals a man’s prosthetic arm? And how the hell did Bucky let someone steal his arm?
“No,” Bucky said, and then he sighed. “Yes. Sort of.”
Sam reached forward and wrapped his palm around the back of Bucky’s neck, pulling him in close. Bucky leaned against Sam, pressing his nose against Sam’s neck. Sam waited, and after a few moments Bucky mumbled into his skin.
“It was Nebula.”
“Who?”
“Nebula.” Bucky squeezed Sam’s waist, still talking against Sam’s neck. “She gave me this whole song and dance about how she was controlled by her dad and now it’s her first time being in real love, and how he really loved the arm and how I could get an upgraded one that was way better—”
Sam pulled back so he could look Bucky in the eyes. “Tell me you did not give her your arm.”
“I didn’t!” Bucky’s eyes widened; he was doing that doe-eyed thing that Sam was a sucker for. “We had a big fight that I definitely won. And then I just sort of—let her take it.”
“You let Nebula take your arm? For her boyfriend?”
“Not sure if boyfriend is the right word—”
Sam barked out a laugh. Suddenly this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “And you say I’m a sap.”
“You are! But I mean, she lost her sister, sort of, and she looked at me with those big dark eyes—”
Sam cut him off with a kiss, his shoulders shaking with laughter.