Work Text:
T'Challa smiles in his sleep. Sam discovers this on a mission that they're not meant to be on, but Steve wanted to go, and T'Challa thought it was the right thing to do, and Bucky just follows whatever Steve says, so they're currently crammed in Steve's shitty car, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
Sam is sitting at the back of the car, T'Challa on his left and Bucky on his right. He's been kicking Bucky for over an hour now, trying to get him to move over and give him some space, but Bucky refuses point blank to move, so Sam is uncomfortably squished next to T'Challa. Not that he minds all that much actually, because T'Challa is very nice when you get to know him.
“I'm sure this is treason somehow.” Sam mutters, trying to wrestle his arm out from where T'Challa is leaning on it, and T'Challa gives a soft snort in response.
“I'm thinking of punishments for you right now.” He replies, and then moves slightly so that Sam can get his arm free. “How does having your wings clipped sound?”
“Over my dead body.” Sam threatens and T'Challa laughs, gaining a glare from Steve.
“We need to be quiet.” Steve whispers, and T'Challa stretches out in response, exactly like a cat that isn't going to follow your orders.
“I hear you Captain.” He says, and Sam offers Steve a lazy salute.
“Roger that, Rogers.” He replies, and T'Challa stifles a laugh.
It turns out being quiet doesn't really work, because in less than ten minutes, everyone has fallen asleep. Steve is snoring softly at the wheel of the car, looking especially angelic, Bucky has managed to somehow expand, taking up a lot more space than before, and T'Challa is curled up in his seat, head resting against the window.
Sam meanwhile, is stuck in the middle of T'Challa and Bucky, slightly annoyed. Sleep doesn't come easily to him any more, not since the airport fight. He thinks his PTSD has returned, but he doesn't want to say it out loud, he doesn't want to appear weak. Compared to Steve and Bucky, compared to T'Challa even, Sam's problems are laughable.
Sam turns uncomfortably, trying to find a good position, and when he turns his head, T'Challa is smiling at him, his eyes shut.
“Yeah yeah, I know.” Sam says, kicking off his shoes in a hope that it'll help him relax. “I'm a fidget.”
T'Challa doesn't reply. Sam pauses, staring at the man, and then leans in, to see if T'Challa is still breathing, because wow, that's creepy. Just as his ear is right next to T'Challa's mouth, T'Challa lets out a huge snore, and Sam jumps about a foot in the air.
“Ah!” He exclaims, and glares at T'Challa. “Did you do that on purpose?”
T'Challa doesn't say anything, just continues to smile creepily, and Sam sighs heavily. “Why do you have to do that man?” He asks, “I have a weak heart you know!”
“No you don't.” Bucky mutters, and Sam jumps again.
“Fucking hell!” He says, turning, “What is wrong with you, you walking fridge magnet?”
Bucky rolls his eyes in the most condescending way possible, and flexes his metal arm. “You don't have a weak heart.”
“You don't know my medical records.” Sam replies, and then pauses, “Wait, I thought you were asleep?”
“I'm a good actor.” Bucky says, and Sam kicks him.
“You're good at taking up space. Move.”
“No.” Bucky says, satisfied. “This is my seat.”
“Go to hell.” Sam tells him, and Bucky pokes him with his non-metal arm.
“Respect your elders.” Bucky reminds him, and Sam has just opened his mouth to come back with an especially witty retort when T'Challa snuffles in his sleep.
Sam turns to look at him at once, finding T'Challa turned towards him, still fast asleep, and still smiling. Now that Sam knows that he's not dead, or going to attack him at any moment, he takes the chance to admire him.
T'Challa looks good when he smiles, and Sam wishes he did it more often. Come to think of it, T'Challa only seems to smile when Sam is actually around, and Sam instantly feels proud at that fact, that he can make the King of Cats smile and laugh.
“You like him.” Bucky says, almost accusingly, and Sam flips him off blindly.
“Listen man, I'm not afraid to beat up a senior citizen-”
“I'm not judging you.” Bucky interrupts, and Sam looks over at him. “You know, it's 2016 now. Men can like men and it's okay.”
“Oh god, are you giving me the 'it's cool to be gay speech'?” Sam asks, astounded. “Are you actually doing that right now?”
“I'm just saying-”
“Bucky Barnes is an Ally, someone stop the Sunday papers.” Sam says, shaking his head, and Bucky punches him, only he punches him with his metal arm and it hurts.
“Shut up bird brain.” He tells him in a tone of voice that could come across as threatening.
“You know what, listen here plum boy-”
“You two should not be fighting.” T'Challa interrupts, and both Sam and Bucky jump. Or, Sam jumps, Bucky blinks. “We're on a mission.”
“He started it.” Sam complains, and T'Challa looks at him fondly.
“I'm sure he did.” He replies and Bucky yelps.
“Lies!” He protests, but T'Challa is more focussed on Sam, studying him.
“You should have woken me. If something had happened-”
“Nothing did.” Sam says firmly, “Apart from Bucky being a dick.”
“Cock.” Bucky mutters, which is a new word he's learnt in the year 2016, and which Sam blames Clint for.
Sam ignores Bucky however, looking T'Challa in the eye. “I wouldn't let anything happen to you.” He promises, and T'Challa offers him one of those treasured smiles.
“I'm sure that you would not.” He replies, and Sam's stomach does a funny flip, because yes, this is all very gay.
Bucky of course has to ruin the moment by pretending to throw up, and Sam wishes, for not the first time, that Bucky had a code word or something that made him shut the fuck up.