walkunderapinksky



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    "What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

    "No."

    "Captain Canary?"

    "Hell no."

    "The Winged Avenger?"

    "Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

     ***

    Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

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    09 Oct 2020

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    That seems to be the thing that breaks the ice between them; Bucky's never really hung out with Sam before, past being jammed into a too-small car for six hours and then two uncomfortable months in a safehouse trying not to get on each other’s last nerve. Now they’re getting lunch or coffee every few days. Sam falls asleep on Bucky’s couch three more times. Bucky joins him and Steve a couple of times on their morning run.

    He doesn’t notice, is the thing; doesn’t notice how ever since Sam slept on his couch that night he’s been letting Bucky closer bit by bit, that as Bucky’s been wondering about the boundaries and structures of friendship, Sam’s been drawing in.

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    07 Oct 2020

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    Bucky's gotta give it to the future for this: they've turned casual sex into a goddamn art.

    What is a friend with benefits, he types into Google, and spends the next two hours reading about the distinctions between booty calls and friends with benefits and fuck buddies. It’s extremely informative. He’s gonna put it to good use, like, pretty much immediately.

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    29 Sep 2020

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    “I’m not sharing my room,” Sam mutters, knowing as he says it that it sounds exactly like he’s a fucking ten year old facing a new sibling. Steve hastily makes what Sam thinks is supposed to be an understanding face.

    “Of course not,” he says soothingly. “He can bunk in with me, it’s not like we haven’t done it before. It's a twin room, anyway, there's already a spare bed.”

    Sam guesses a bigger house is out of the question. Whatever; the three of them have spent eight hours crammed in a Mini, it can’t be that bad.

     

    It’s not that bad. It’s worse.

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    29 Sep 2020

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    “You’re sending me on a two-man undercover,” Bucky says, helplessly, “staying in a vineyard retreat, alone, with Wilson.”

    “Pack your swim trunks,” Daisy adds, “apparently it’s got a hot tub.”

    Bucky looks at Sam. Sam looks back at Bucky. Sam’s arms are crossed over his chest, his forearms bare. Bucky carefully doesn’t look at Sam’s forearms, or the way his t-shirt is pulled tight over his shoulders, straining just a little at the seams. Bucky’s not looking at that at all. He makes eye contact, careful to keep his face neutral.

    Sam’s eyes are soft and dark. Maybe a little amused. He has very long eyelashes.

    Bucky swallows hard.

    “Great,” he says. “That’s just— great.”

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    28 Sep 2020