Work Text:
They had the whole bayou to themselves.
Bucky swats at his neck, smearing blood from a mosquito across his skin. Behind him, he hears Sam sigh, content. The four-foot gar already stowed in the icebox.
He grins. This is Sam’s favorite haunt, and might as well be his.
Sam’s hand finds Bucky’s chest. His breath against Bucky’s nape sends heat through him. The air feels heavier, hotter. Bucky caresses Sam’s hair.
“Sam…”
Sam smiles as his other hand finds Bucky’s thighs. Bucky moans.
The boat rocks against the water as their voices drift into the trees.
They’re all alone in the bayou, unseen and unheard.