Sam bustles around the kitchen, cleaning off counters he’d deep cleaned two days ago, grabbing dishes out of the dishwasher that really could wait until tomorrow morning, putting some elbow grease into trying to get out the stubborn spot on their stove that’s been there since they moved in and that Bucky’s not sure will ever go away. They’ve been home from their last mission about a sum total of fifteen minutes, and Sam’s still in frenzy mode.
If there’s anything Bucky’s learned in all the years he’s been around his partner, it’s that Sam’s never really quite figured out how to slow it down.
Good thing Bucky’s always happy to help.
He straightens up from where he’s leaning against their kitchen’s entryway and walks over towards Sam, purposefully making his footfalls a little louder than normal so he doesn’t sneak up behind him.
“We’ve been awake for almost thirty-six hours, sweetheart,” Bucky almost croons, cozying up behind Sam and wrapping his hands around his front. Bucky himself doesn’t really need the sleep—not the way that Sam does—but he’s found Sam’s a little bit more willing to be pulled into slumber if they’ve both gone without for a while.
Just a little, though.
“I’m so close to getting this grease stain out,” Sam says, huffing a bit between words, his metaphorical feathers ruffled up, trying his best to resist Bucky’s attempts to get him to sleep.
Bucky knows Sam isn’t getting that stain out, knows that vibranium wool wouldn’t be enough to get that stain out, but Sam’s working at it like he’ll get it out if it’s the last thing he ever does, Bucky’s soft crooning be damned.
Time to bring out the big guns, Bucky thinks, nuzzling at Sam’s neck before peppering soft kisses all over it.
It slows Sam down enough that Bucky knows he’s at least got an opportunity here, so he kisses a little slower, a little more sensual.
They’re both too tired to do anything tonight, but neck kisses have always been Sam’s kryptonite; they might be the only thing capable of distracting him when he’s this wound up.
The mission hadn’t exactly been a pretty one, after all.
“Wanna snuggle up to you tonight, angel,” he whispers in between kisses, voice soft and adoring. “Hold you all night long, keep you warm.”
That’s the last push Sam needs to relax his shoulders, setting his cleaning supplies over to the side and breathing in deeply as Bucky places one last kiss on his neck.
“Ready for bed, angel?” Bucky asks, as quiet as he can, and Sam just turns around in his arms in answer, wrapping his own arms around Bucky’s back and tucking his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck instead.
“Shower first?” he mumbles, the already quiet question muffled by the words being spoken into his neck, but Bucky hears him anyway, bending down just enough to pick Sam up, wrapping his legs around his waist and carrying him off to the shower.
Sam doesn’t take his face out of the crook of Bucky’s neck until he’s placed back on his feet, the warm spray at his back still cooler than the feeling of Bucky’s hands on his abdomen, sudsing him up.
It’s a quick shower, warm but mostly utilitarian, a few kisses when Bucky just can’t help himself aside. They dry off only enough to not be uncomfortable between the sheets, and Bucky picks an already almost asleep Sam up one last time to carry him over to bed.
Sam immediately turns over to lay half on top of him, burying his face in Bucky’s neck once again, like it’s a barrier to keep out everything else. Bucky knows it won’t be long until Sam moves—knows Sam sleeps like a hurricane when he feels safe enough to, always looking for the cool spot—but it’s enough to warm Bucky all over for now.
“Good night, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arm in tighter around Sam. “I love you.”
All he gets is Sam’s soft, slow breathing in reply, but he knows Sam falling asleep next to him that easily is an “I love you” in its own right.
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Bucky: call me and I'll be there.
Bucky: not necessarily as a team.
Sam: nope.
Bucky: we're not that good.
Sam: definitely not.
Bucky: we're professionals.
Sam: definitely.
Bucky: and, uh... we're partners.
Sam: co-workers.
Bucky: but we're also a couple of guys with a mutual friend.
Sam: friend's now gone.
Bucky: so we're a couple of guys.
Sam: I can live with that.
Bucky: perfect.
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What If S2 spoilers ahead!
The second episode hit me in the chest with all the feels. A few random thoughts:
-MIDDLE AGED PEGGY???? YESSSSSSSS. MY GAL. I love all forms of Peggy, including BAMF, non-super Peggy. Peggy doesn't need powers to kick ass. <3
-Kurt Russell does a great job with Ego. I love it when the actor's work plays into why I hate a particular character. Ego is the WORST and Kurt Russell as Ego is super hate-able. A++, love me a villain that I can dislike without any need or want for redemption.
-LITTLE PETER AND HOPE! OMG! Bonding over music! Bonding over shared life experiences! Hope understanding Peter because Hope is also a kid who has dealt with terrible shit thanks to powerful parents! I love them as BFFs. Yes, please.
-BUCKY! Peggy and Howard's reactions to Bucky! Bucky's reaction to Howard pulling the Steve card! DLASKJFLAF
-Peggy/Wendy now exists in my mind as a ship, thanks!
-Wendy <3 Bill Foster <3 T'Chaka <3 80's Avengers <3
-GOOSE!
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post nwh !
three things immediately came to mind the second peter realized sam and bucky had been tailing him for the past hour.
1 - oh my god they totally heard him singing let it go holy shit he needs to die
2 - bucky barnes seems like a mint chocolate chip ice cream fan and sam is his friend therefore both cannot be trusted.
3 - was he supposed to say something?
it takes him thirty minutes and three robberies to finally swing into a random alleyway and figure out what’s going on.
“are you two like the paparazzi? because, i charge for any photos or insider knowledge.”
it’s silent and he’s just… what the hell was he supposed to do in this situation?
“uh.. if you— i can’t just let you keep following me, it’s a little weird.. so if you need anything…”
was he doing this correctly? is there some … code he was missing? magic words? abracadabra?
“mr..falcon america captain sir.. i know you’re— i can hear your heartbeats— i see the shield.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“told you not to bring it.”
“it’s apart of the whole—- i can’t just not bring it, it’s my power, my charm.”
“you have— the spider-man is gone.”
“he’s not THE spider-man it’s just spider-man—- what do you mean he’s gone.”
( he totally nailed that, mysterious but not threatening…the perfect balance of confidence, tony would be proud )
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