Work Text:
Sam was two sips into his coffee and exactly halfway through ignoring a report on rebuilding GRC infrastructure when his phone buzzed across the table.
Sarah.
He answered with a smile. “Morning, sis.”
“Sam,” she said warmly, “I’m confirming you’re coming to Thanksgiving, right?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”
“And you’re bringing your boyfriend?”
Sam blinked. “My—my what?”
“Bucky,” Sarah said, like it was obvious. “The guy you’ve been dodging around in interviews? The one you spend every weekend with? The guy who was literally on your boat fixing the engine last month?”
Sam stammered. “He’s not—uh—he’s not my—”
“Sam,” she cut in gently, “It’s fine. You don’t have to keep secrets. Bring him. Everyone’s excited to meet him. Cassie even made a joke about you bringing home Captain America and a boyfriend. You’re living in a Hallmark movie.”
Sam opened his mouth to protest—and promptly closed it.
Because what would be worse? Telling her the truth and facing her relentless teasing? Or asking Bucky to come to dinner and pretend to be his boyfriend for one night?
“…Yeah,” he said faintly. “Yeah, we’ll be there.”
“You said what?” Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, a mix of disbelief and amusement on his face.
“I panicked,” Sam muttered. “She just said it. Like it was a given. And then I said yes.”
“So now I’m your fake boyfriend for Thanksgiving.”
“Please?”
Bucky tilted his head. “What’s in it for me?”
“Wings. Home-cooked by my sister. And pie. You like pie.”
“I do like pie,” Bucky admitted. Then added, “And I’ve seen the way you talk about your family. You want me there anyway. Might as well come as the charming, emotionally available boyfriend.”
“You? Emotionally available?”
Bucky smirked. “I can act.”
Sam’s hometown in Louisiana was warm even in late November. They arrived the night before Thanksgiving, duffel bags slung over their shoulders, and were met at the door by a grinning Sarah.
“Look at you two,” she said, pulling Sam into a hug. Then she turned to Bucky and hugged him too, catching him off-guard.
“We’ve heard so much about you,” she said to Bucky. “Sam’s not exactly subtle.”
“Really?” Bucky looked at Sam, pleased. “You talk about me?”
“Regretfully,” Sam muttered.
Inside, the house was already filled with warmth and spice. Cass and AJ peeked around the hallway corner, curious and wide-eyed.
“You really brought him,” AJ whispered to Cass. “He’s real.”
Bucky winked. Cass nearly fell over.
By noon the next day, Bucky had been roped into helping make cornbread stuffing and was fending off questions from Sarah with surprising ease.
“So,” she asked as they chopped celery together, “how long have you two been dating?”
Bucky hesitated for a beat before answering smoothly, “Few months now.”
“And how’s it going?”
“Surprisingly well,” he said. “He’s bossy. Doesn’t like to share snacks. But he’s got a good heart.”
Sarah laughed. “You’re good at this.”
“Talking about Sam?” Bucky asked.
“Being charming.”
Bucky glanced toward the kitchen doorway where Sam stood, watching. “Thanks,” he said, softer now.
Sam looked away.
Dinner was everything Sam missed—crowded, noisy, full of laughter. He sat at the table between Bucky and Sarah, watching Bucky argue over football with AJ like he’d grown up in the family.
Maybe the fake part didn’t feel so fake anymore.
Then someone asked, “So, how did you two get together?”
Sam opened his mouth. Froze.
Bucky, without missing a beat, said, “He asked me out.”
“I did not!” Sam blurted.
A silence fell over the table.
Bucky slowly turned to him. Raised an eyebrow. Sam panicked.
“I mean—yes, I did. Obviously. I—yes.” He cleared his throat. “I asked him out. Man’s got a metal arm, what can I say.”
The table burst into laughter.
Later, after dessert and more questions, Sam stepped outside onto the porch, hands in his pockets, exhaling into the cool air. Bucky joined him after a moment.
“You okay?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Just needed a second.”
Bucky leaned on the railing beside him. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Sam huffed a laugh. “I am. I can’t believe you’re not making this worse.”
“I’m trying to be helpful,” Bucky said, nudging his shoulder.
Sam glanced over. “Thanks for doing this. Really.”
Bucky’s voice was quiet. “It’s not so bad. Your family’s great.”
Sam chuckled. “They like you more than they like me.”
“That’s ‘cause I don’t correct AJ on everything he says about Star Wars.”
Sam snorted, then turned serious. “I didn’t think you’d say yes.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno.” He hesitated. “Didn’t think you’d want to pretend like that. With me.”
Bucky looked at him, blue eyes soft. “Wasn’t much pretending.”
The silence stretched between them.
Sam broke it first. “That’s dangerous talk, Barnes.”
“Maybe,” Bucky said. “Or maybe it’s just being honest.”
They left the next day after breakfast. Sarah hugged Bucky long and hard.
“You’re welcome here anytime, boyfriend or not,” she said pointedly, loud enough for Sam to hear.
“Thank you,” Bucky said, with a warm smile.
As they threw their bags into the back of the car, Bucky leaned against the door and looked at Sam.
“You know,” he said, “we don’t have to keep pretending now.”
Sam blinked. “No?”
“No.” Bucky took a step closer. “I meant what I said. It wasn’t much pretending for me.”
Sam’s voice was quiet. “Same.”
Bucky smiled, then reached for his hand.
Sam let him.
A month later, Sam’s phone buzzed again.
Are you bringing your boyfriend for Christmas too?
Sam texted back without hesitation.
Yeah.