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Sam was not awake enough for the wall of tension that had replaced the entrance to his kitchen. There was Bucky, sitting on his side of the breakfast nook, where he belonged. There was Yelena Belova across from him in Sam’s spot, where she did not belong.
Sam didn’t bother to ask how she’d gotten inside. “Good morning, Yelena,” he greeted around a yawn. To Bucky, he ran a hand through his hair as he passed.
“Good morning, Wilson,” Yelena answered without looking away from Bucky.
Bucky also didn’t look away from Yelena, even as he tilted his head back into Sam’s touch. Through his teeth, he said, “Hey, Sam.”
Sam scratched just behind Bucky’s ear and then turned to pour himself some coffee.
“Don’t drink that,” Bucky warned.
“Could be fun,” Yelena suggested.
And Sam officially felt lost. He set the mug down and turned to lean on the counter, trapping his hands against the counter edge at his lower back. “Alright, what’s going on with the two of you?”
“She drugged me,” Bucky said, as if that answered more questions than it raised.
“Explain,” Sam prompted. He stepped back over to Bucky, held either side of his face to tilt his head up and look at his eyes. Bucky’s expression was, at once, irritated and lovesick.
“The effects will be mild on him at best,” Yelena tsked as she sat back in Sam’s seat.
“Explain,” Sam repeated and let go of Bucky’s face when he was satisfied.
“It’s an inhibitor. A truth serum, if you want. You Americans and your fanciful names.”
“And why would you do that?” Sam continued to prompt. It was like pulling teeth with these two on a good day, much less when they were posturing with each other.
“I wanted to know what he knew about the Red Room.”
“I would have told you if you’d just asked,” Bucky sighed in exasperation.
“I wanted to be sure.”
“He didn’t even know his own name,” Sam objected. “What could he have possibly known?”
Yelena shrugged. “I just didn’t want him to lie.”
“I wouldn’t have lied to you,” Bucky insisted again.
“Well, I believe you now,” Yelena agreed. “He’s not even pissy that I drugged him. That’s not it alone, is it Barnes?”
Bucky glared at her, metal fingers drumming along Sam’s wrist.
“No,” she agreed with herself. “I imagine it’s because the first truth he told me was a graphic–way too graphic–account of how sore he was after a, I assume, pleasant night.”
That made Sam’s mouth quirk just a little. “Careful what you wish for,” he said.
Yelena grimaced a little. “I can’t tell if the super soldier serum is affecting the truth serum and amplifying what he actually wants to talk about, or what he definitely doesn’t want to talk about. But the results have been…pointed, to say the least.”
“Don’t,” Bucky growled.
“What’s your favorite sound ever?” Yelena pressed anyway.
Bucky’s jaw tightened hard enough Sam thought he could feel it. Still, he said, “Sam’s laugh.”
Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”
“What else could it be? The way you moan my name?” Then Bucky’s hard gaze shot up to Sam’s face. “Stop asking me questions.”
Sam grinned and pushed his hand through Bucky’s hair again. Crisis adverted for the moment–though he should probably have a discussions about breaking into a friend’s house to drug him–Sam rinsed out the coffee pot and went about starting a new batch.
“What did you know about the Red Room?” he heard Yelena ask.
“It’s not fair of you to ask him that when you’ve violated his trust to get the answer,” Sam objected quickly.
“I didn’t know much. I don’t think I even knew what it was called. At the time, the Soviets…leant me out. I was one of the trials for Widows. They had to fight me. Part of the graduation process.”
“How many of them did you kill?”
Sam saw Bucky shake his head. “I don’t know. Not as many as you think. They were all well trained, strong, smart.”
“Did you fight Natasha?”
Bucky’s mouth quirked up sadly. “She was too young. She remembered me. Told me about it. She was a level or two of training off of that trial. By the time she, and certainly you, were old enough, I was being used by scientists in Project X. I never fought either of you.”
“That’s enough,” Sam interrupted. “What else could you need to know?”
Yelena kept her eyes on Bucky. “What about Antonia? Did they bring you back to train her?”
“The Taskmaster,” Bucky said. Then shook his head again. “No, I had no idea she existed until you told us. I imagine they must’ve made her watch footage of me until she could fight like me. She’s even younger than you, right? I was sold to HYDRA after Project X, in the 90s. HYDRA never worked with the Red Room.”
Yelena and Bucky resumed their stare off and Sam was just about to put himself between them when something banged on the window. Sam jumped, but Yelena and Bucky didn’t even look over. Hanging on a grappling line outside of the window, Kate Bishop was waving frantically at Sam and pointing to the window latch.
“Y’know, I’ve never had a problem with kids before,” he grumbled as he walked over. “But some of these new superheroes…” He pulled the window open and Kate clambered in, using Sam’s shoulder for balance as she hopped over the window sill.
“Your building is really well secured,” she complimented in a gasp, shaking out her arms. “Are you crazy?” she directed to Yelena. “I had half decided not to help you, just leave you to whatever fate you found up here.”
“I’m done anyway,” Yelena said. “You wasted your energy climbing up.” She stood and half heartedly pushed Sam’s chair back under the table.
“How did you even get in?” Kate asked. “There’s not a buzzer on the door and every window is, like, triple plated.”
Yelena held up an access card. “Kids’ll give you anything if you have a big enough piece of candy.”
“Meatware,” she and Bucky said at the same time.
“You better go put that back under the door it belongs to,” Sam warned.
“Yeah, yeah,” Yelena agreed boredly. “Thank you for indulging me, James Barnes.”
“Call me Bucky,” Bucky said drily. “All my friends do.”
Yelena sarcastically held her hand up to her chest, over her heart. “Touched you’d call me a friend.”
“Hey, with friends like you–” Bucky said with a shrug.
“That’s what I keep saying,” Kate agreed. “Come on, you terribly capable pain in my ass.”
Sam watched them head for the front door and only let out a long breath when it clicked shut behind them. “Feel like I should’ve seen them all the way out of the building.”
“Wouldn’t matter,” Bucky said, getting up to pour himself a real cup of coffee. “They’d just find a way to make someone else’s life difficult.”
“A Widow and a Hawkeye.” Sam turned and reached over to hold the side of Bucky’s face, rubbed his thumb over his cheek when Bucky leaned into the touch. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.
Bucky let out a long sigh and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“That’s all I can tell you right now.”
Sam frowned and leaned over to press his lips over Bucky’s eyebrow. “What possibly possessed you to drink coffee made by a spy?”
“Figured she’d put something in it. Didn’t figure she was trying to trigger me into becoming the Winter Soldier or trying to kidnap me. So, y’know, just went with it.”
“Have I told you recently you’re stupid?”
“Yeah, but you know what it does to me, so I seek it out.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
Bucky smiled and kissed the inside of Sam’s wrist before sitting at the table again. “Wasn’t as bad as the information I thought she was after anyway. Guess she kind of deserves to know everything about the Red Room.”
“Yeah, but you deserve not to be coerced into it,” Sam defended. He hooked his foot around the leg of his chair and tugged it over to sit by Bucky.
“I’m fine, Sam. Honest. It was kind of worth it to see her face when I got a little too honest about how I was feeling, actually.”
Sam hid his small smile behind his mug. “Hey, speaking of–” he started.
“Don’t,” Bucky warned, but leaned back in his chair, defiant and daring as ever.
“What were you dreaming about last night, James Barnes?” Sam asked with an unobscured smile now.
Bucky tilted his jaw up. “I was dreaming that I had you laid out over a huge bed, full of white, fluffy sheets. You looked so fucking good. Looked like an angel. Or a Calvin Klein ad. Either way, I couldn’t keep my mouth off of you. And you had your hands in my hair, holding me down where you wanted me. Kept grinding up against me but wouldn’t let me go to blow you. Kept me right at your chest. Put love bites all over you but they never bruised so I didn’t have to feel bad but you got to feel good.”
“You’re an easy man to please, Barnes,” Sam laughed. He reached for Bucky’s hand, turned it over to trace the lines of his palm. “Who’s your best friend?”
“You are,” Bucky said softly, fondly. “Good question, I’d never have answered that one honestly.”
“Pain,” Sam chided without heat. “Tell me what you want most.”
Bucky chewed on his lip, glancing between Sam’s face and where his fingers were on Bucky’s hand. “Want you to be happy. Want you to be safe, though I know you won’t let that happen easily.”
Sam was caught off guard. He hadn’t been fishing for an answer about himself with that one. Mostly he wanted to tease Bucky about wanting a big apartment or a Lambo or a flamethrower in his arm. He hadn’t expected the answer to be so selfless and sincere.
“Well,” he said, bringing Bucky’s hand up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Lucky for you, you’re pretty good at giving yourself both of those things.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked with tired bemusement. “I make you happy, huh?”
“Well, y’know, happy is so subjective,” Sam ho-ed and hummed. “Do I sometimes wake up just ‘cause I’ll get to see your ugly mug? Maybe. Do I think your coffee is awful and still drink it anyway? Yeah, sure. Can I get a little eager about showing you off at functions? Sometimes. Does it give me a particular thrill to call you my partner and get to mean it a whole bunch of ways? Usually. Happy, though? I don’t know the definition.”
Bucky smiled and slid his hand around the back of Sam’s neck to pull him into a kiss. It was awkward over the table, all hot coffee and stress. But Bucky was relaxing moment by moment under Sam’s hands, which was worth it enough.
Sam shifted around the table to straddle Bucky’s lap, bringing his hands up to Bucky’s face. Bucky’s hands settled on Sam’s waist, patient and bemused again. “What do you want me to give you more than anything in the world?” Sam asked, tracing his thumb over Bucky’s lower lip slowly.
Bucky sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. “Fuck, Sam, you can’t just ask me that like that.” Sam’s thumb continued brushing over his lip until Bucky forced his eyes open again. “Just want you, baby. You make me feel so fuckin’ good no matter what we’re doing.”
“Sure, doll,” Sam agreed. “But if you could ask for anything, what would it be?”
“I’d ask you not to leave. Ask you to stay with me. That’s all I want. The rest is sprinkles on the top.”
Sam tilted Bucky’s face up to kiss him again. Bucky curled his fingers along the back of Sam’s neck and kissed him back for a moment before pushing him back just a little. “I’m not going anywhere,” Sam promised. “Drugged or not.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and dragged his fingers over Sam’s cheek before he turned back to his coffee. “Those kids are nothing but trouble, y’know.”
Sam sat in his seat and shrugged. “Sure, but they’re what we have. I’ll implement a ‘no drugging team members’ rule.”
“I appreciate it.” Bucky brought his mug up to his lips and tore his gaze from Sam. The room seemed to cool by several degrees now that they weren’t climbing over each other.
They continued their breakfast silently, trading a real newspaper back and forth until Sam sat back and brought his gaze up to Bucky again. “What’s something I don’t give you often that you like?”
Bucky looked up at him balefully. For a second, he seemed like he was fighting his own mouth, but he eventually said, “I like it when your accent slips through. When you’ve been around all the guys down in Louisiana and you’re tired and your vowels get long and you start clipping consonants together.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose and he grinned. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, voice dropping low and slow. “You think’a somethin’ you wanna hear me say, I’ll say it, baby. Just for ya’.”
Bucky groaned and dropped his head to the table. “Stop asking me questions.”
Sam laughed and tapped the paper against Bucky’s head. “Sure, alright,” he gave in. “Don’t say I’ve never given you anything.”
“I wouldn’t say that anyway, Samuel.”
“God, I’m really enjoying this honesty.”
“Why don’t you come put my mouth to some better use, huh?” Bucky tempted, pushing his chair back on its hind legs.
“Your mouth is being plenty useful just like this,” Sam assured.
“Then come over here and let me put your mouth to use.”
Sam grinned and set his coffee aside. “Alright, yeah, I can get behind that.”
“Oh, is that how you want it?” Bucky asked.
“Is that what you want?”
“It’s what I always want,” Bucky said, then scowled at the admission.
Sam grinned and hooked his finger in Bucky’s collar, pulling him up. “Then let me give you that.”
The coffee, unassuming and cooling, sat on the counter as they stumbled away.