Chapter Text
Sam followed his sister into the house at a leisurely stroll, humming a little tune like he didn’t have a care in the whole wide world, an easy-going grin plastered on his face as he propped himself up against the door frame.
Sarah made it to the counter before rounding on him, expression pinched and tone sharp. “What?”
“What-what?”
“Why are you cornering me in the kitchen? That’s what.”
“Can’t a man stand in his own kitchen without it being suspicious?”
Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows stretching in challenge because she knew her brother. He was their daddy made over--minus the preaching and heterosexuality, of course—and her mama had taught her early on how to read the moods of the Wilson men (“We’re outnumbered in this house, Sugar-cube. So, you ‘n me, we gotta stick together.” Damn…she missed her mother.). “C’mon Sam. You got that look. You’re itching to say something. Which is why you’re in here, beating around the bush; instead of out there cuddling with your man. And I wanna know why, really, I do. But I also wanna get out there before that blonde menace your other half brought home drinks all the good wine. So can you get on with it?” She turned to rummage through a cabinet. “I swear that woman goes through hot sauce like Cass goes through Rice Krispies,” she grumbled, grabbing a fresh bottle that she kept on hand for occasions just like this because Yelena Belova popping by was a thing that happened fairly frequently since the disbandment of the Thunderbolts.
“Why do we even need that?”
“She wants to dip her chips in it.” She answered Sam’s frown with one of her own. “Yeah, don’t look at me like that. My life was perfectly normal ‘til you came back here and all these other people came straggling after. Now I got a grocery bill through the roof. I buy more hot sauce than I do ketchup; and Bucky just has to have oat milk; and did you know Ava was wondering if there was any tofu? I’ve been on this earth going on four decades and I never had a mind to buy tofu.” She huffed like she didn’t enjoy taking care of them all, when Sam knew dang good and well that the soft spot she’d found for Bucky had only grown to wrap around Yelena and Ava as well. Paul and Darlene Wilson both had hearts as wide as the ocean, a trait they’d passed on to their children. The trio of tortured, abused, sometimes shady but mostly reformed superheroes hadn’t stood a chance amid so much goodness. “Well?”
“Well, what?” Sam hedged, suddenly feeling every bit the fool he knew his sister would call him out on being.
“Sam, need I remind you that both boys are out there right now? If Yelena starts telling ghost stories around that campfire, shit’s gonna get real, real fast. And then you’ll be the one putting AJ to bed for the next week, because I absolutely do not have time for that. That kid has nightmares when Scooby Doo gets too intense.”
“To be fair Scooby Doo can be whack. I’m just saying. Did you see the one-”
“Sam, I swear to—”
“Fine!” He quickly turned around, squinting to make sure everyone was still in the backyard, gathered around the fire where he’d left them. “Just…okay…look. I’m your brother. You’re gonna tell me, right?”
“Tell you what?”
Sam’s jaw clenched. He knew he probably looked as sheepish as he felt, but this was no time for discretion. Not when his man was out there, being both secretive and honest in one fell swoop. Sam couldn’t even call slander and defend himself because Bucky always played his cards close to his vest.
In the end, he could only blame his big ear for casting him in the hot springs of self-doubt currently bubbling around him. Not that he’d intended to overhear something he shouldn’t. Snooping wasn’t his style, nor was prying into matters people left unsaid. But he’d been innocently minding his own (Had he been whistling? He was pretty sure there might have been whistling involved.) as he ambled through the Wilson family home (How’s it even eavesdropping if it’s happening on your own damn property anyway?), grabbing a beer (totally innocent of all wrong here.) from the kitchen (where else?) as he made his way out back to the bonfire raging on without him because bureaucratic bullshit had a way of following him home. After taking no less than three calls and answering seven emails, he finally deemed himself caught up enough to join the festivities, feeling a little guilty because Bucky never took the lead in planning anything, so technically he was late to his boyfriend’s first party.
The Wilson siblings had been suitably surprised when he’d tentatively suggested they have a get-together a few weeks ago, his shoulders tense as he remained hyper focused on chopping the cucumber for the salad Sarah wanted paired with her homemade lasagna. Sam stopped mid-type on the notes he was reworking for a speech at the kitchen table, his heart almost tumbling out of his chest as he took in the curved posture of a man still so unused to asking for anything. Bucky had spent years accepting whatever was thrown at him, adapting to other people’s plans and expectations, shelving any semblance of control in the wake of having his voice silenced time after time. Anytime he made a suggestion, Sam damn sure listened, each instance a little treasure he held close because it meant Bucky felt safe enough to ask.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Sarah had hummed, picking up and running with the moment because she too knew Bucky was conditioned to stay quiet. “What were you thinking?”
“Just…ya know…” he slid the knife along the cutting board as he struggled with putting his thoughts into actual words. “Since everyone went their own way…not all…maybe just Yells and Starr…if the weather is good. Just a cook-out. Maybe a fire?”
Sarah’s shoulders visibly relaxed when she realized she didn’t have to factor the entire Thunderbolt team into this equation. Bucky had gotten particularly close to Yelena and Ava during his Thunderbolt run, the trio forming a sibling-esque bond through all the dubious shit thrown at them from Thaddeus Ross. Bucky had eventually brought them both back with him to Team Cap, the rest of the Thunderbolts going their own way. “We’d invite the kid of course.” The kid being Joaquín, who Bucky couldn’t see any other way no matter how many times he risked his life flying side by side with Sam. Fortunately Joaquín took it in stride, considering it affectionate ribbing from a man who was technically older than his abuela.
So, they’d planned a cookout—just a small affair—and it was around that campfire everyone else had been sitting when the earth shifted ever so slightly off its axis. They hadn’t known Sam was there. Had been laughing, drinking, and joking around, Cass and AJ collecting lightning bugs in a jar that Sarah would make them release later. “Seriously though Bucky come on, there’s got to be one thing.”
“Nope.”
“I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that. With all due respect,” Joaquín hastily added lest he run the risk of pissing the supersoldier off.
“Trust me Torres, there is no thing. Not one.” Yelena followed this assessment with a snort. “I have been around Barnes enough to know this.”
“Lena is right.” Ava tossed a fond smile in the other woman’s direction from her place perched on Joaquín’s lap, because apparently that was a thing now. One that had come as an absolute surprise to everyone but Sarah, who had simply shrugged when Sam eagerly imparted the news like a gossiping old church lady. (“You set a precedent, Sam,” she’d all but cackled. “Falcons love tortured former assassins. Write it down.”) “There isn’t a thing, is there Barnes?”
What the hell were they even talking about? What thing?
Bucky had merely shrugged his shoulders, taking a pull off his longneck as he glanced around at the curious faces. “There isn’t. I wouldn’t change anything about Sam.”
Oh! That’s what they’re talking about. Joy, not to mention a fair amount of pride, surged through Sam’s body. Of course, Bucky wouldn’t change anything about him. He’d said it time and again, Sam humbled by his boyfriend’s obvious adoration. Sam beamed as bright as the fire keeping them all warm, ready to make his presence known when Sarah let out a chuckle and nudged that same boyfriend in the side. “Yeah right. I can think of one thing you’d change,” she had the gall to counter.
Sam had puffed up, prepared for Bucky’s fierce denial. Instead, Bucky looked first at his feet then straight into the fire as if it held some kind of answer. “Okay, yeah. I guess there’s one thing.”
“What?” Yelena’s astonished tone matched her wide-eyed expression. “You lie! Seriously?”
“You gotta tell us now. All I’ve ever heard is you wax on and on about Cap like we’re in a freakin’ rom-com.”
“Yeah,” Ava said, agreeing with her boyfriend who leaned in to nuzzle her cheek like it wasn’t still awkward as all hell that they were dating. And Sam couldn’t even say anything about the dangers of fraternization within the team because he’d started all this by dragging Bucky to his bedroom and keeping him there.
“Nope. I’m taking that one to the grave,” Bucky said with a firm shake of his head, all of them distracted when Cass rushed over with a bug they just had to see.
And really, that should have been it. All she wrote about a throwaway line that was inconsequential in the grand scheme of it all. Sam had cleared his throat as he joined the festivities, throwing a grin Bucky’s way as he waited to see if Bucky would mention it. Or at least have the grace to look uncomfortable. But he hadn’t, the entire discussion now centered on some creepy-crawley that Yelena was speculating was an alien bug, while Sarah brushed it off because bugs just grew bigger in Louisiana and everybody knew it.
“There you are,” Bucky had whispered with a soft smile, pulling Sam down to his knee because apparently Sam was the Ava Starr in this situation, and fuck if he didn’t like it. Bucky kissed his cheek. “Missed you.”
“I was gone all of twenty minutes,” Sam snorted as he searched those beloved blue-gray eyes for any indication that he’d known Sam was listening in. Part of him thought Bucky had to know—what with being a former assassin and all; another part realized that Bucky increasingly let his guard down in situations where he felt safe. He felt safe with Sam. With Sam’s family and this group of friends.
Maybe he hadn’t clocked Sam’s arrival after all.
“Twenty minutes too long,” Bucky countered, brushing his nose against Sam’s cheek.
And none of it was a big deal. At all. It was nothing. But Sam couldn’t let it go. So, when Sarah had excused herself to go get something for Yelena, Sam damn sure followed, which led them right here to this moment.
“Tell you what?” Sarah asked again, her patience teetering, it was plain to see. “I already got two kids thinking it’s my job to read their minds. I don’t got room for another. Out with it.”
“What would Bucky change about me?” He mumbled in a rush, feeling like a dumbass. Why, oh why, did Sarah see his insecurities every time?
“What?”
“Come on. Y’all had the conversation like ten minutes ago. You said he’d change something about me, and he didn’t deny it.”
“Are you serious right now?” Sarah glared mulishly before huffing out a breath, looking him square in the eye as she rendered her verdict. “You shouldn’t be eavesdropping.”
“I didn’t mean too,” he tossed his hands up in helpless surrender. “I can’t help it if my stealthy superhero skills make it-”
“Ain’t nobody in this house ever gonna call you stealthy!”
“Rude.”
“What you call rude, I call truth. Need I remind you that you and your man broke the bed the first night you tried to use it and woke the whole house up?”
“That bed was like a hundred years old!”
“I had to tell the kids you were in there moving furniture at 11: 30 at night. You’re paying for their therapy bills. Mine too.”
“Can we just get back to the point?”
She passed the hot sauce from hand to hand, her gaze softening as she took in his obvious anxiety. “Loving that man has made you stupid.”
“I resent that. It’s perfectly reasonable to want to know why my boyfriend finds me flawed.”
“Neither of us said anything about you being flawed. Not that I couldn’t say a few things about that, mind you-”
“It was heavily implied.”
“Look Sam maybe you should just ask him.”
“Why should I ask him? You clearly know whatever it is he wants to change and think it’s funny enough to bring it up…”
“I take it back. I shouldn’t have said that. Blame that second margarita for loosening my tongue.”
“Well, you can’t take back something that’s already out there. And if y’all have talked about it, then it’s obviously something.”
She hesitated, clearly torn between loyalties. Normally, Sam would’ve felt guilty for putting her in an uncomfortable position, but she was the one who’d chosen the second margarita that had brought them here. “It’s…it’s really not a big deal. Not, not how you’re thinking.”
“So just tell me.”
“I can’t. And you know I can’t when it’s not my place. I don’t want to be in the middle of your relationship drama, Sam.”
His gut twisted because that…that sounded ominous. Like maybe this was a real problem indeed. “Drama? Me and Bucky got problems?”
“He just pulled you into his lap and tried to melt into you. What kind of problems do you seriously think you have right now?”
“Well, I didn’t think we had any until you started drinking margaritas, Sarah.”
“I wouldn’t need to drink margaritas if y’all didn’t get on my damn-ass nerves, gawd Sam! Just ask him and leave me out of it.”
“I can’t ask him.”
“Why not?”
“Because that just makes me sound ridiculous. My boyfriend only wants to change one thing about me—when I’d change like a hundred and fifty-seven things about him easy. And I’m gonna be critical and get all up in my feelings over one thing?”
“You’d really change a hundred and fifty-seven things about Bucky?” Sarah scoffed. “Please.”
“Well, maybe five things.”
“Yeah, and I’d lay money on whatever they are, you’d end up missing them if they were gone.”
“He’s been known to get into bed in his outside clothes.”
“Oh hell no. Look, I don’t want to know. I know you though. You aren’t keeping that to yourself. So, I bet he doesn’t do it anymore now that you’ve let him in the bed.”
“Well no. And in the show-”
“Sam, I will kick you both out this house.”
Sam tossed his hands up helplessly. “You gotta admit, it’s a rabbit hole. If I ask him what this thing is, then he might ask me what else I’d change about him. If I tell him how much I despise that one t-shirt with the grease stains, it’ll probably morph into a stupid fight, and he’ll be giving me pouty eyes for days.”
“You wear me out.”
“Have you seen his puppy dog eyes? Steve ended up on the run because of them. I went along with the dumbest plan on earth and risked the wrath of Wakanda because of them.”
“Sam, I have a whole-assed stray cat living large and getting white hair all over my couch since he came along. Yes, I’ve seen his puppy-dog eyes.”
“I can’t take that Sarah. He’s so damn good to me. All the time he’s good to me.”
“You’re really good to him, too. You know that, right? This isn’t some one-sided love affair where you take everything he gives and that’s that? He’d be lost without you. You ground him Sam. Make him feel safe. Like he has a place and right to exist.”
“I know. But it still feels different. The way he takes care of me, it’s just really selfless, ya know?”
She blew out a breath, looking very sympathetic. “Did you ever think that if there really is only one thing your boyfriend wants to change about you, you should consider yourself lucky for it? I’ll love Jody ‘til my dying breath. Would do anything to have one more day with him, but I could tell you right off ten things he did that annoyed the absolute piss out of me. Here you got a man who says there’s one thing he’d change about you and you’re fixing to get all emotional over it?”
“I know. Look, I know. It’s just. Bucky’s always going on and on about how much I mean to him, how perfect I am—"
“And you believed the hype?”
“Shut-up,” he mumbled in a near whine.
“Now you know there’s no shuttin’ me up. Somebody’s gotta keep you humble around here.”
“Fine, maybe I’m a little spoiled, okay? But it’s just nice, ya know? After a lifetime of never feeling like I was enough? Like I had it together? I was never as faithful as Dad, or warm and giving like Mom. Not as smart as Gideon or as organized as you.”
“Really? My compliment is that I’m organized? You’re really standing there right now and giving me organized-”
“You know what I mean. You can walk into any room and people are gonna listen. People are gonna care. You keep us all right, Sar. Every one of us has faltered, but you…you’re unmovable.”
She stared at him for a long moment, espresso eyes misting over. “Okay, fine, I’ll allow it,” she finally sniffed out.
“Taking Steve’s mantle, following in the wake of his glory in a world built for me to fail…” Sam paused. “In the beginning, I felt that from him, ya know? That I was the stand-in for Steve. But the more I was around him, the more I realized…”
“That he worships the ground you walk on even when he can’t find the words to say it? That he would walk through fire a thousand times over for you? That it was never about Steve for him?”
“I like that okay? I like that my flaws, he seems to view as strengths. I like that I can be human, not pumped full of a serum, and he still thinks I’m the greatest, strongest, smartest person in the room. I feel like I fail every day, Sar, but not with him. Not in his eyes. So, to hear him say there’s something—just one thing—that he would change. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal to you. I know it’s real and it makes us a normal couple, and he has every right to it. I know I’m not perfect—fuck, I know that, okay? But with him, I feel close.”
“He does live to give you heart eyes.”
Sam bit back a smile, his mind racing through a quick reel of all the times he’d looked over and seen Bucky overcome with affection. How many times during a press conference or an interview had Bucky’s feelings for Sam been on display for all the world to see? “And I need that. It makes all the other bullshit seem less because he makes me feel like I’m so much.”
“Sam, just talk to him all right? Tell him you heard what he said.”
“Is it something I can change?”
“I really don’t-”
“C’mon Sar. Give me something here. Please?”
She hesitated. “Well yeah.”
“Is it something I’d want to change?”
“Sam c’mon. I don’t know.”
“Sarah…”
She sighed. “I really don’t know, okay? Maybe. Maybe not. And he’d never make it an issue.”
“So, it’s important then? To him? For a guy who never asks for anything? There is something I could change about myself that would make him happy?”
“Ask him.”
“I wouldn’t have to ask him if you’d just tell me. Because you clearly know.”
“No.”
“How you gonna do me like that, Sar. C’mon.”
“Because you don’t want me to tell you, not really. Besides you, I’m the only other person left alive that he trusts completely. You don’t want me breaking that any more than I want to break it. Am I right?”
“You aren’t wrong,” he said with a reluctant mumble.
“Sam. This is Bucky. You know you can ask him anything.”
“I know.”
“So, ask him then, all right?”
He gave a small nod. “Fine, all right. Maybe I will.”
Narrowed, speculative eyes swept over his rigid frame. “You’re not gonna ask him, are you?”
He held his hands up in helpless surrender. “Of course I’m not gonna ask him.”
She shook her head in resignation. “You exhaust me.” She reached out with the hand not holding the hot sauce, giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “Please. Either let this go or talk to him. Don’t go making something out of nothing.”
But that was the thing. It wasn’t ‘nothing’. Not to Bucky, or he would have already said it. Either to Sam or around that fire. And that meant it couldn’t be ‘nothing’ to Sam. “Yeah, all right,” he said with a forced grin, wondering how on earth he was gonna let this go.