Chapter Text
In retrospect, Sam didn’t have to kiss Bucky. There was nothing holding him to it. He also could’ve pulled away when Bucky started kissing him back. Or honestly, he should’ve side stepped the kiss entirely. That would’ve been the safe move, to pretend that the weird tension between them was just in his head.
Sam didn’t exactly have a great track record when it came to making safe decisions.
It was early January when Bucky arrived at the Avengers Compound. He’d spent about nine months in Wakanda where he was cleansed of the mind control and cleared for battle. In that time, the Avengers had gone back and forth and after a few months on the run, they were all welcomed back onto the team. The Sokovia accords had been amended, and all was about as good as it could be when you were a superhero.
Bucky joining the team should’ve been a seamless introduction. Steve couldn’t be more excited about getting to fight alongside his best friend again. Except for one tiny detail: Sam and Bucky couldn’t seem to get along. About anything.
It was the small things, really. Sam poked fun at his staring. Bucky would refuse to pass the salt. On the field, Sam flew down a little closer to him so the wind off of his wings hit the soldier’s face. Bucky tripped him during training. Meaningless squabbles that most of the other Avengers ignored.
Of course, Bucky could stand to be a little bit nicer to Sam. He had become a fugitive for the guy. Well, going on the run from the government had been more about Sam’s own political views, but it wouldn’t have killed Bucky to be a little friendlier.
It certainly didn’t help that the two of them had been assigned rooms across from each other. Quite literally, right across the hallway from each other. Bucky’s door was the first thing he saw when he left his own room. At least Sam didn’t see him in the morning when he got up for his run, but the two of them always ended up walking back the same way after training.
Sam wanted to blame the SHIELD agents responsible for their rooming assignments. If they hadn’t put them across from each other, the kiss never would’ve happened. But really if there was anyone to blame for this whole affair, it would be the Wizard of Oz.
The other Avengers were either busy or uninterested in movie night, so it was just Sam, Steve, and Bucky on the couch. Steve picked the film for the nostalgia and spent the better part of the night talking over the movie.
“Remember when we went to watch this, Buck?”
“Mhm.” Bucky responded.
“Remember how often we’d go to catch a picture?” Steve asked a few minutes later. Bucky gave another monosyllabic answer.
Again, during ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’ he asked. “Remember all the snacks they used to sell?”.
And again, during the tornado scene he said, “Remember how your sister made us get all dressed up to go to the show?”
And then.
“Remember your friend Dorothy?” Steve asked. Bucky turned to look at him with furrowed brows. “Remember? She was a real popular gal, we’d always end up meeting other friends of hers when we went out.”
“Oh.” Bucky muttered.
“And when we’d meet them, those fellas would always introduce themselves as Friends of Dorothy.”
Sam snorted. Bucky glanced over at Sam briefly.
‘Friend of Dorothy’ was a euphemism that gay people used to use to subtly let others know that they were gay. Sam had found out about it in college when he was talking to others and figuring himself out. He knew it was an older, mostly out-dated phrase, but to hear that it was not only used during Steve and Bucky’s time, but to their faces, was kind of hilarious.
“Friends of Dorothy, huh?” Sam asked, doing his best to hold back a laugh. “And were these guys…of a certain type?”
Steve replied, “Oh, they got real chatty with Bucky.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Sam snickered. Steve pulled that sour expression he got when he didn’t understand a reference. To avoid a totally awkward conversation, Sam got up and made the excuse of going to grab another beer.
It wasn’t two minutes that Sam spent alone in the kitchen before a shadow appeared in the doorway.
“If you keep staring at me like that, your head’s going to explode.” Sam told him.
Bucky stepped out of the shadow and stood by the kitchen counter. He didn’t reach for the fridge or make any move to get a snack. He just stood still and stared at him.
“I’m not a mind reader, Barnes, if you want to tell me something you’re gonna have to say it aloud.”
He huffed, “Earlier. Steve brought up Dorothy.”
“Yeah?” The cold beer in Sam’s hands wasn't really warming him up and neither was Bucky’s icy stare.
He managed to continue, “You looked like you were implying something.”
“Uh yeah, I know what ‘Friend of Dorothy’ was code for back in the days.”
Bucky squinted his eyes. If he was trying to come off as intimidating it wasn’t working. “How did you know about that?” He finally asked.
“I read it somewhere.” Sam shrugged.
“In a book, you mean?”
“No, just, somewhere.” He waved around a hand.
Sam’s first non-hostile conversation with Bucky was going swimmingly. “Relax, man, I won’t tell Steve or anything like that.” Sam turned back to the drawers and pulled out a bottle opener. He opened his beer and took a long swig of it.
Bucky was still standing there.
“You good man?” Sam asked.
“Are you…a friend?”
Sam was grateful that he hadn’t taken another sip or he might’ve spit it out. He clarified, “What, of Dorothy?”
Jesus, whatever happened to ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’?
Guess that was after his time.
Sam put his beer down. “There are better words for it nowadays, but yeah, you could say that I’m a friend.”
Bucky nodded, and with that he finally walked away.
Great. Some rapport they were building. Now the guy who never seemed to stop getting on his nerves was walking around with a piece of information that he could very well use against him. It was something he’d really rather not let any of the Avengers know about, because frankly it was none of their business, and he already had a lot to prove being one of the only black members of the team. The no superpowers thing wasn’t helping how people viewed him either.
And yet, he had a feeling that Bucky wasn’t the type of guy to go around outing him. Especially since Sam knew the truth about Bucky too. Sam wondered what it was like for Bucky to be queer back in the day. While he didn’t let up on the bickering, there was definitely something different in their relationship now, an added level of respect in keeping the other’s secret.
It also didn’t hurt that Bucky was easy on the eyes. Not that he’d never noticed Bucky’s good looks before, he wasn’t blind, he just hadn’t been looking. When a crazed assassin is chasing you down, and then you’re chasing him down to try to bring him back, you don’t take a moment to consider how pretty his eyes are. But ever since Bucky had more or less settled in, small things were becoming more apparent. The focus of his stare. The stubble on his jaw. Now that he’d cut his hair short, you could really see more of his face. Sam would look at him, remember just how good he looked, and then Bucky would find some kind of way to annoy him.
Sam chalked it up to a crush. Crushing on the only other gay guy around made him feel like he was in high school all over again, but whatever. He was bored. It’s not like world-ending threats were a weekly occurrence. And if he indulged in a couple of glances towards Bucky, that didn’t mean anything. Every member of the team was hot and buff, it’s not like he’d never spared a glance at Steve’s arms or Thor’s thighs before.
It was an early evening when everyone was invited to a group dinner. Vision had tried to cook for everyone, and despite the fact that he was a robot he did a terrible job. Concerned glances were exchanged between everyone when they tasted the food. Wanda praised him and everyone muttered similar, empty praises, before suddenly coming up with some excuse to leave the table. Sam would’ve loved to leave with the rest of them, but Rhodey was going to take his post-workout shower and the two of them shared a bathroom in between their bedrooms. So Sam stayed back to be polite and helped out with the dishes.
By the end of dinner, it was just Bucky, Wanda, and Vision left, but Sam insisted that Vision was relieved of clean up duties since he’d cooked such a lovely meal for them. Once the robot and his girlfriend had left, Sam dumped the leftovers in the bin.
Bucky picked up all the dishes from the table and put them down by the sink, before he leaned back against the kitchen island and crossed his arms.
Over his own shoulder Sam said, “Are you just going to stand there and watch?”
“Maybe.”
“So I’m going to do everyone else’s dishes alone then?”
Bucky shrugged. “I did my part.”
Sam rinsed off the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. “You wanna throw your arm in there?”
Bucky’s brows pinched. “What?”
“You know. The metal pan is in there so I figured you could throw your arm in too. Come on, when was the last time you washed that thing?”
“In the shower. When I wash my other arm,” Bucky groaned.
“I guess that makes sense.”
Bucky rolled his eyes but stayed immobile.
Sam noted, “You’re blocking my way out.”
He wasn’t really. The kitchen island stood on its own and wasn’t attached to the counters. Sam could turn around and walk away if he really wanted to.
“There’s plenty of space behind you.” Bucky pointed out.
“Yeah well, I need to get to the fridge.”
Bucky shrugged, arms still crossed. “I guess you’ll have to go around, then.”
When Bucky said that, he meant that Sam would have to go the long way around the kitchen to get to the fridge. But Sam, the genius that he was, tried to shove past Bucky. If it was anyone else it probably would’ve worked out, but he couldn’t exactly just shove past two hundred pounds of a super soldier. So he just kind of shoved into him.
“You really know how to piss a guy off.” Sam said when that didn’t work. He weighed in his head how humiliating it would be to walk the long way around the kitchen. Yeah, he was not relenting.
Sam continued, “You could stand to be a little nicer to me, you know. We’re teammates. We’re supposed to work together.”
Still, Bucky said nothing.
“You going to play the silent game all night? Or do you actually have something fun and witty to say? Now, that would be a first.”
Bucky just stared at Sam, the two of them holding eye contact. Sam kept it going and didn’t look away. Those blue eyes stayed locked with his own, and now Sam knew that he couldn’t look away or he’d lose. The longer their little staring contest went on, the more Sam’s eyes watered, so he repeated a little trick he’d learned when he was a kid and took a step closer to Bucky. Bucky caught the movement instantly, causing his eyes to flick down to the ground and break away.
“I win.” Sam declared.
Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes. “Goodnight, Wilson.” He muttered and walked away, evidently done with their conversation. Sam was not.
Instead of going for the fridge, he caught up with Bucky as he walked over to their living quarters.
Sam began, “Didn’t think that you were such a sore loser. And you’d think that a staring contest of all things would be something that you’d naturally win at.”
“Do you ever stop talking? Like seriously?”
“It’s called being sociable.”
“I think we’ve found your real superpower, being a chatterbox.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t talk as much if you didn’t annoy me so often.”
“Me?” Bucky asked, almost offended. “You’re the one who dropped me during practice today!”
“And yet you turned out perfectly fine, not a scratch on that pretty face of yours.”
“You still dropped me!”
“Yeah, because you tried to break Redwing this morning! You think I’m stupid? I know you have it out for him!”
“He’s a drone, Sam. A drone.”
“Yeah well, that drone has saved your life several times now—”
“Twice. And I honestly could’ve handled it myself.”
“Ah, but you didn’t! Redwing did. That’s my point.”
They turned the edge down to the hallway of their rooms. Bucky scoffed, “Your point is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”
“That’s really mature. A very clever insult.”
“Wilson, just shut up.”
“How about you make me?”
If Sam was trying to avoid implications, he was doing a terrible job at it.
Bucky crowded into his space and he was right there, right in his face, his nose only inches away. And if anything were different, being that close to someone, he would’ve probably ended up kissing him.
Sam pointed out the obvious. “You’re very close.”
“You gonna move?”
Sam looked down at Bucky’s lips and back at those focused, blue eyes. Fuck. Yeah. Okay. This was happening.
Bucky was being a stubborn bastard and just stood there, breathing into his face, and Sam was not a patient man so he closed the distance and kissed him. Sam pulled away and looked at Bucky and the fucker still had his eyes open, probably had had it open while they were kissing.
Fucking weirdo. Sam wanted to kiss him again, just to see if he could elicit some kind of reaction out of the guy, but suddenly Bucky had him pressed against the door of his room and was kissing him properly. Bucky opened his mouth and licked Sam’s lower lip and shit he was really going for it. Sam let his mouth fall open and Bucky slipped his tongue in.
Sam let his hand find the short hairs at the nape of Bucky’s neck. The metal arm gripped Sam’s hip and his flesh hand fumbled with the doorknob. The door swung open behind him and Sam would’ve fallen backwards if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto him so tightly.
Once Sam got his footing again he pushed Bucky against the door with one hand on Bucky’s neck and the other on his hips.
Bucky pulled away from the kiss with a smirk and in a hoarse voice he muttered, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
He put a hand on his lower back and spun Sam around so that he was pressed against the door. Sam involuntarily let out a groan as his back hit the wood and Bucky kissed him again. Sam pulled him in closer so they were chest to chest. Bucky shifted against him and Sam felt him against his own thigh.
“Shit, Barnes. Are you hard already?” he muttered.
“Fuck off. It’s the– serum.”
“Oh my god,” Sam laughed and Bucky cut him off with a bruising kiss.
Bucky began to rut against him and Sam moved his lips to his neck as he kissed down to his collarbone, careful not to leave any marks. Bucky’s metal hand gripped his waist tight, and he wondered if it was bad enough to leave a mark.
Sam could feel the bulge in his own pants, but Bucky almost seemed too far gone to even notice. He was holding back sounds and trying to slow himself down.
“Barnes, are you close? It’s hardly been five minutes.”
“Yeah, Sam, I know,” He barely breathed out, very grumpy and totally out of it.
Sam put his hand on Bucky’s shoulders. “Shuffle up. I got you.”
Bucky took a step back and gave Sam enough space to zip open his fly and sneak his hand down the front of his boxers. Bucky threw his head back. It took a few short strokes for Bucky’s mouth to hang open as he came into Sam’s fist.
“That didn’t take very long,” Sam teased. Bucky was blissed out enough to not immediately pull a scowl, but he did look directly at Sam.
“The serum.” He managed to say with shaky breaths. “Increased metabolism, increased adrenaline, increased everything.”
“You get there faster. Got it.” Sam finished his thought. Bucky gave a half-nod.
Sam pulled his hand out and wiped it down the side of his own workout pants.
Bucky pulled a face, “That’s disgusting.”
“I was going to wash them anyway.” Sam said. And then a thought occurred. “How quick can you get it back up?” Bucky glared at him. “You know, with the serum affecting you and stuff.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he groaned.
“See now I really wanna know.”
Bucky grumbled, seemingly back to being mostly composed. “You never shut up, do you? Can’t even do this without you talking.”
“Well maybe if I can still get out full sentences you’re not doing a great job.”
“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Bucky took a step closer and lifted his hands up with his palms facing Sam. “How do you want me, Wilson?"
How do you want me? A million images appeared in his mind of very compromising positions of the two of them, and Sam seemed to sober up and realise that what he was doing with Bucky was actually crazy. Were they about to fuck? How far would they go? How long would they go for? They really needed to talk about this—
“Sam.” Bucky brought him out of his daze. His right hand gripped the waistband of Sam’s workout pants. “Just with my hand?”
“Uh yeah. That’s fine.”
Real smooth, Samuel.
A hint of amusement flashed across Bucky’s blue eyes. “Let’s hope it’s a little better than fine.” He brought his warm hand into his pants and began to stroke him over his underwear. A squeeze caused Sam to let out a moan, and the scruff of Bucky’s beard against his neck as he sucked behind Sam’s ear wasn’t helping to subdue the noises.
Bucky eventually pulled Sam’s boxers down to get a proper hold of his dick. He started to stroke up and down at a quickening pace, eliciting all kinds of sounds to slip from Sam’s mouth.
“Fuck. Bucky,” he moaned, at a particularly good twist of the wrist. “Shit. Don’t stop.”
Bucky brought his metal hand from where it was firm on Sam’s waist, up under his shirt, the cold metal stretching across the expanse of his abs and lower stomach. Both of Sam’s hands reached around to hold Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky’s mouth climbed up to his ear as he gently pulled on Sam’s earlobe with his teeth, causing a very loud moan. Bucky started to stroke even faster, and Sam knew he didn’t have much longer.
He let out a deep groan. “Shit, Bucky, I’m so close.”
Sam came moaning, and Bucky pulled away to give him a moment to breathe. He took his own hand out, looked down at it for a moment, before he reached out to wipe it against Sam’s pants.
“Hey!”
“You did the same thing.”
The two of them stood where they were, a foot apart, and just stared at each other. Holding eye contact. They were both still panting and reeling from their orgasms, but one of them had recovered a little quicker.
Sam pointed to the tent in Bucky’s jeans. “I guess that answers my question from earlier.”
Bucky crossed his arms. “I need to figure out how to shut you up for good. Even when you can’t speak properly you’re still loud as hell.”
“That’s kind of the point of a good time. To feel it and voice it.” Sam reminded him.
“Anyone could’ve heard it.”
“The rooms are sound proof. And it clearly got you going.” He indicated towards his clothed boner.
Bucky huffed, “That’s different. Anything would’ve got me hard. It’s the serum.”
“Come on, moans are like half the reason that people fuck anyways. You can’t act like I didn’t have any effect on you at all.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and Sam smirked, before he lowered himself down to his knees.
“What are you doing?” Bucky asked.
“You wanted to shut me up and you’ve still got a raging hard-on. I think I can kill two birds with one stone.” Sam winked.
He hadn’t noticed it before, but Bucky looked awfully dangerous when those dark eyes were filled with lust. He pulled his jeans and boxers down enough to let his dick spring out.
Fuck. It had been a while since the last time Sam was on his knees like this, mouth open and ready. Despite being out of practice, Sam wasted no time in taking as much as he could into his mouth. He heard a muffled sound above him and saw Bucky with his mouth closed and his lips pressed tightly together. He sucked and bobbed his head, and within a minute Bucky was coming down Sam’s throat.
Sam swallowed what he could and pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and breathing heavily. “Fuck, I could use a glass of water.”
Bucky reached out a hand to help him up. “That was…”
“Good?” Sam supplied. Bucky nodded.
Sam smirked. “Picked that up in the Air Force.”
Bucky nodded like he understood. “Yeah. The Army was the same for me.”
He chuckled, “The fact that there were gay guys in the military, even back then is—”
“I’m not gay.” Bucky interrupted. Sam looked at him. “I haven’t been gay since the damn day I got here.”
Sam furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”
“I haven’t been very gay in a long time. Even this we couldn’t manage without being in a frustrated mood half the time.”
Oh.
“No, man. ‘Gay’ doesn’t mean what it used to. It meant happy, right? Nowadays people use it to describe someone who…for example, when a guy likes a guy, or a girl likes a girl.”
“You mean a homo?”
Sam cringed at the aggressiveness behind the word. “Yeah, homosexual. But that’s such a technical word so most people just say ‘gay’.”
“I’m not a homo,” Bucky responded.
He tried to keep his facial expression still. Was he misunderstanding him again?
Sam continued, “Like, homo as in ‘into guys’? You mean like you’re bi or something?”
“Wilson, I’m not a homo.”
Sam blinked. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. “…uhm, are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure.” He grumbled.
“I mean…we just had sex, but okay?”
“That wasn’t sex,” Bucky shook his head. “Sex is between a man and a woman.”
Sam buried his face in his own hands. He was not in the mood for this conversation.
“Get out.” He groaned.
“Excuse me?” Bucky said.
“Get out man, I’m not doing this with you.”
Technically Bucky was right, getting to third base wasn’t technically sex, but Sam was pissed and confused and so unbelievably bothered. Had Bucky not meant that he was gay when he told him he was ‘a friend of Dorothy’? Did the meaning get lost in time?
Bucky tucked himself back into his jeans and fixed his belt.
Sam reached to touch his hand and stop him. “Okay, just wait a second.”
“You told me to get out.”
“We still need to actually talk about this.”
“Nothing to talk about, Wilson. It was a one time thing.” And with that Bucky left and shut the door behind him.
A one time thing.