#i will forever love Roger Michell for making this the way he did

[ennaih]

Not Every Film I Watch In 2024

6. Persuasion (1995) -- eleventy-billionth rewatch

and bonus:

[straystarr]

i miss you, i'm sorry; lmh

 in which alcohol and a broken heart prompts you to make a phone call to your ex.

Reference(s): “I miss you, I’m sorry” written by Grace Abrahams and a line from Notting Hill directed by Roger Michell

~

“I miss you”

The flashing lights seemed to somehow mute the chaotic noise around you. Head hurting, mind overwhelmed, and still, your fingers unconsciously danced across the screen of your phone, typing a number you had deleted months ago.

Some things don’t stay the way they're supposed to. Out of sight, out of mind right? Funny how all logic and rational thinking is suddenly muddled by the denial of a broken heart. 

“y/n.”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in your system, you’d cry at the sound of his voice. Instead, the concern in his tone forced a bittersweet smile to form on your face.

He shouldn’t be worried, he shouldn’t have even answered. But he did. And you hated that you knew he would. Because even in your drunken state, it was so natural for you to go back to him. 

“You promised.” 

You felt pathetic. Clinging onto his promises of forever, even when you fought his declarations towards the end of your relationship. The need to be right overpowering the need to be loved.

It was careless, taking everything you loved and disputing it with cruel words driven by a fixed mindset. And he did the same. Hurt people hurt people, because no one wants to be hurting alone. 

You did your best to move on. You really did. It was easy at first, fueled by anger and pinpointing all the blame of your failing relationship on him was something you did with your head held high. 

And then all of a sudden, your pride became too hard to swallow and all the hate you spewed ricocheted in the forms of longing and regret. 

You often found yourself reminiscing about fights in his apartment and the disappointment that came with broken dishes, just to get a glimpse of him.

Because he was always readily available in your mind, whether it be in the form of heartbreak or not. And the extent to which you would willingly fall back into these moments only resulted in any progress of moving on to slip through your fingers.

“y/n, where are you?”

How do you move on from someone who is so deeply engraved into your mind, someone who has touched every part of you with sweet kisses and gentle hands, someone who starts your thoughts and always ends them.

For these reasons, your doubts and hesitations were not baseless. Because how do you move on from someone you once promised forever to? It almost seems wrong to do so. 

“I don’t know what to do Minho. Everywhere I go leads me back to you. Everything I know brings me back to us.” 

There was so much to say, so much you wanted to tell him. It was desperate and embarrassing, but others might say you were simply in love; that you were just a girl, talking to a boy, asking him to love her. 

“Y/n, please….go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Y/n–”

“Every corner of that fucking house is haunted Minho.” 

It was suffocating. Home was no longer home but a place filled with traces of his presence. Bittersweet reminders of the life that once flourished remained in every room.

His coffee cup in the cupboard, his hoodie tucked away in your drawer, the silly love notes he left embedded into your books, his morning kisses, his laughter, his smile, him. 

He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Even in his absence, he was consuming you. So no, you wouldn’t go home, you couldn’t. Because the definition between home and Minho seemed to blur overtime. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore."

The drunken daze was now fading away, your clouded mind becoming overwhelmed with the sober emotions that flowed through your body, because they were one in the same when you were drunk, just easier to handle in a state of intoxication. 

“I thought you hated me.”

Such a statement was not meant to be laced with the gentleness he evoked, so much so, a certain heaviness clung to your chest. For the reminder of the three words you spewed at him the last time you spoke will forever bring feelings of angst and regret. 

“Minho…”

Some things are better left unsaid. Until the time comes when those things are all you can think about, clouding your judgement and cultivating a narrative of missed opportunities guided by the words “what if”.

You had many. And they creeped up on you, leaving you lost in your thoughts of love that you’ll never be able to live, at least, not with him.

But not was not the time to wallow in your self pity and despair. Not after all the time you had dedicated to pondering over the “what ifs” and certainly not when the person these “what ifs” revolved around was here, listening to you. 

“I was angry and upset and desperate to hurt you. I don’t hate you—I never could. I’m sorry.”

The slow sigh that ran after your words displayed your relief more than you intended. Thinking back to the last time you spoke to him was routine for you.

But this time, instead of being tormented by the hurt laced in the memory of that night, you were now comforted by the fact that your truth was now something he knew.

And you weren’t going to deprive yourself of his, no matter how much it may break you. You were in too deep to consider that now. 

“Do I still make you sick to your stomach?” 

It was his turn to let out an audible sigh. And it seems as though you weren’t the only one reminiscing back to that night; for his response appeared to be nurtured with time and consideration.

“No y/n, you never did. You never will. I didn't mean that. I wish I had ever said those words to you, but I did. I’m sorry.”

It’s one thing to say something. It’s another to mean it. And it felt nice to hear he didn’t. You knew he could never have meant it, but the assurance you experienced upon his confession pulled apart the remaining angst embedded in your memories. You could only hope he felt the same.

It was cold outside. Somehow, your feet carried you out of the stuffy place, the moon illuminating the still street, a complete contradiction to your surroundings a few seconds ago. 

The silence seemed to emphasize your acknowledgement of everything that had happened and was happening. The phone pressed to your ear. The quick beating in your chest. The familiarity of the slow breaths he took as you listened. Your boldness. His patience. 

“I’m sorry I called. I know we said we weren’t talking—”

“I miss you too.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His voice low and quiet, almost as if the statement was a passing thought that had slipped past his tongue. But you caught it, as did your denial, that after all this time, he too missed what once was.

A part of you wished your ears had been deaf to his words. Because the way your hand fell to your chest, the way it felt as though your heart had paused, the way tears immediately lined your waterline, was the same way you recognized exactly how much you missed him.

One step forward and three steps back is the damage his words did. But you started it first, and it was only fair to finish what you started. 

An absent smile lined your lips with tears falling down your face. Your tears were warm against your cold skin and you so badly wanted the warmth to stay.  

“Everything we were scared of happening, happened Minho.”

“Nothing happened in the way we wanted Y/n.”

Your absent smile turned bittersweet, fingers gently grazing your cheek in an attempt to catch the warmth from your eyes. You were right. And he was too. They say that nothing that is meant for you will ever get away, so why did he?

“Is this better for us y/n?”

It’s hard to make peace with something you don't entirely agree with. He hurt you more than anyone else has. But he loved you better than anyone ever did. 

“I don't know. I’m still confused.” 

Your eyes shut, squeezing what was left of your tears out. 

“I do know that I was really happy with you, we were happy together. And we were really good to each other.”

You went into this conversation with hope and uncertainty. It was only normal for that hope and uncertainty to cultivate into doubts and hesitation. He didn’t deserve that. And you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Not now. Not ever. 

“But….”

“But we’ve been here before. And I want to love you because I love you, not because I need you— I missed you Minho…..I miss you. I’m sorry.” 

And in an instant, no sound came from his phone. Your voice, gone, as if it were never there.

Gone before he could familiarize himself with the highs and lows of your tone. Gone before he could tell you to not cry, for he recognized the tell tale signs that you were. Gone before he could say everything he wanted to say and more. 

And perhaps that's why he continued to hold the phone to his ear, head falling to the back of his couch as he allowed the words he meant to say to you, the second your name appeared on his phone, break free from his lips.

Barely a mumble, but with his whole heart and all his truth. 

“I still love you, I promise.”

Check out the easter egg in this story!

𝙎𝙏RAy𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍r★

[cherish--these--times]

Important information. SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE. UPDATING AS I WATCH THE MOVIE ALONG BEAR WITH ME. The film they watched at the hotel is You've Got Mail, this is Sam and Rebecca's story. When they messaged each other not knowing who the other person was. Ted said Sleepless in Seattle was far superior. This is the one where airports play a significant part and it's about a man who lost his wife and has a son finding love again with the woman he never knew until the last second would be the one. He first sees her in an airport and is knocked sideways. By all accounts the last of Ted we will see will be in an airport based on previous seasons with first and last shot being a character’s face in the same location.

Also Rebecca mentioning she has a private jet and the thing with airports; SUSP AS HELL.

Keeley assumed the moment Rebecca spent with Dutch Guy was "Magic" This is also a quote from Sleepless in Seattle. Turns out it was Gezellig instead. But this is definitely where we're going. And that'll either be Dutch Guy or Ted. Both fit the man who lost their partner and have a kid formula. Definitely not Sam. But Ted tripped over the Red String of Fate, has the matchbook, loves Kenny Rogers, bakes the biscuits who are home to her, she carries his army man everywhere she goes. She hasn't been struck by lightning yet which to me means it's not Dutch Guy; Ted is leaving which means her world is about to be turned upside down. I keep the faith. i don't care.

AND there's a tear in Meg Ryan's wedding dress and she says oh no it's a sign to which her mum says "You don't believe in signs!" And Rebecca doesn't really believe in signs either! All the signs have been pointing to different people except the obvious one! They're there so she can see something about herself she completely missed.

FUCK MY LIFE. It's about making wishes!! Tom Hanks' son in the film wishes for his father to find a new wife!! His son is worried about his dad!!!

The psychiatrist on the radio is called Dr. Fieldstone FUUUUUUCK MEEEEE. IT WAS RIGHT THERE ALL ALONG.

Sam and Annie speak the same words at the same time in two different places, soulmatism right there!

Annie thought Sam sounded "Nice" on the radio and Ted is one of the "nicest" humans Rebecca has ever met!!

Quote from a guy : "This is fate, she's divorced and you need a new wife." (not talking about Annie here, it's another woman) "What is that thing when everything intersects?" To which Sam replies: "The Bermuda TRIANGLE."

One woman who writes to Sam after he was on the radio lives in OKLAHOMA!

Dr. Fieldstone tells Sam she can tell he is a good dad just like Beard told Ted!!

One woman says on the radio: "Why do you want to be with someone who doesn't love you?" (Michelle, anyone?)

"Sam, tell me what was so special about your wife?" "It was a million tiny little things then when you added them all up it just meant we were supposed to be together. I knew it the very first time I touched her it was like coming home, only to no home I had ever known!"

Annie asking a friend: "But when you met her (his wife), did you believe she was the only person for you? That in some mystical, cosmic way, it was fated?"

Sam's friend about relationships:

"Things are different, now. First, you have to be friends. You have to like each other."

Annie talks to her best friend about the concept of DESTINY.

Annie hires a private detective to run a background check on Sam!! Ted wanted Rebecca to do it with Dr. Jacob!

Wonderful addition by @doctorbeverlycrusher : Rebecca’s mom said a couple times that when she loves something, she loves it forever. The main song from Sleepless in Seattle, When I Fall in Love, starts with the lyric “When I fall in love, it will be forever”.

ANNIE MUNCHES ON SUNFLOWER SEEDS ON THE PLANE.

Sam's son to his dad: "Jessica says you and Annie never got together in that life, and your hearts are like puzzles with parts out of them and when you get together the puzzle's complete. The reason I know this and you don't is that I'm younger and purer so I'm more in touch with cosmic forces."

There's even a mention of Horticulture!

We spotted the word Rainbow in the pub game, the romcommunism episode was called Rainbow. Let me leave you with the quote from Ted again.

"Now, it may not work out how you think it will or how you hope it does, but believe me, it will all work out. Exactly as it's supposed to."

I might be setting myself up for disappointment but the writers are building every step up to the cliff egde, baby!

Thank you for coming to my Ted Lasso Talk

[asterjaxx]

i've been watching a lot of movies recently so i'm gonna make a big post about what i think about each one i've watched so far so i can refer back to it if i ever need it

also warnings for possible spoilers for each movie below

things no one cares about under the cut

NOTTING HILL 1999 — dir. Roger Michell

I LOVED NOTTING HILL could watch this movie over and over forever holy shit i love hugh grant. also julia roberts has a very big mouth like if i see her in a different movie and she looks like completely different but i'll recognise her mouth like is that weird- SO CUTE sometimes things didn't quite sequence together ? like there were times when it wasn't quite clear how long had passed between the two scenes, but that doesn't really bother me. not a lot of exposition but again doesn't bother me. just a nice fluffy romantic film :) also has so many funny moments that are actually funny not cringe all around i love this movie so much one of my favourites ever i think

DIRTY DANCING 1987 — dir. Emile Ardolino

in short; not for me lol i can't stand patrick swayze's accent i'm sorry. didn't even watch the whole movie because i was so not interested. it's cute when he's teaching her to do the dance and stuff and i liked when they were in the water trying to do the lift but like that was the only memorable thing for me. hair reminded me of the heathers (which is one of my absolute favourite movies) but other than that it wasn't really anything crazy to me ? just an 80s movie that my mom likes

BRIDGET JONES' DIARY 2001 — dir. Sharon Maguire

good movie. mark kinda pisses me off but he's a good guy in the end so i can live with it HUGH GRANT !!!!1 though his character was a fucking ass i love when he gets beaten up not toooooo fluffy romantic, but still romantic. FUNNY, bridget jones can't get a fucking break and it's hilarious "bridget jones, wanton sex goddess, with a very bad man between her thighs. mum... hi." solid movie i really want to watch the other two (i'll add to this list later when i watch them) and there's a fourth one coming

MAURICE 1987 — dir. James Ivory

ugh gay people ^JOKE JOKE JOKE JOKE i liked this movie. i loooove things set in earlier times but like i wouldn't call this a period piece ? like it's not that far in the past, only 1910s, but then again that was still a hundred years ago. ANYWAY hugh grant again (are you seeing a theme?) ew he was DISGUSTING with the slicked back hair and the moustache EW jokes ugh he was so cute i liked the first half of the movie, the second half was kinda eh to me?? i thought maurice and clive would like have a better resolution between them so i was kinda underwhelmed didn't really like maurice's actor's accent LMAO i am awful ending was kiiiinda disappointing to me i thought there'd be more but it was sweet. I DID NOT EXPECT TO SEE DICK AND BALLS !!!!! i literally almost screamed (no i didn't i handled it like a mature person) anyway yeah this movie's good, but ew gay people I'M JOKING

04/07 UPDATE ————————————————————————

LOVE ACTUALLY 2003 — dir. Richard Curtis

"when the planes hit the twin towers..." HUGH GRANT anyway i loved this movie, super cute. it seemed like there was a lot going on but it was done in a way that it wasn't confusing. funny but not cringe. it's a win for me if hugh grant's in it hate the american president guy, hate harry's voice he sounds like a pedophile ROWAN ATKINSON JUMPSCARE ... TWICE billy mack can suck balls i hated that guy but overall super cute lovey movie but not boringly lovey. story between all of the characters was great and i liked that they all had a nice resolve between them :)

05/07 UPDATE ————————————————————————

BRIDGET JONES: THE EDGE OF REASON 2004 — dir. Beeban Kidron

when i finished bridget jones' diary, and found out there were two more movies (and another in the works) i was a little apprehensive. i thought "what more could possible happen?" but this is bridget jones this movie was super cute actually ! GOD daniel cleaver is an asshole i hate him but hugh grant....... i like that mark and daniel fight again that was fun my god she fucking goes to jail LIKE A WERGIN overall; jesus christ what a movie. i enjoyed it though. I DID NOT EXPECT THAT REBECCA WAS A LESBIAN but then again i have a cousin named rebecca that's queer like the first movie, not super fluffy romantic, but still romantic. actually funny. actually want to kill myseslf out of second-hand embarrassment at times but that's the bridget jones charm

06/07 UPDATE————————————————————————

FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL 1994 — dir. Mike Newell

THIS MOVIE WAS SO SWEET AWWWW I FEEL SO SILLY AFTER WATCHING THAT :D rowan atkinson jumpscare once again (i knew he was in this movie) aawww man i don't have much to say about it other than it's so sweet and romantic and i just love it it's beautiful :( my brain is mush after watching it

08/07 UPDATE————————————————————————

BRIDGET JONES' BABY 2016 — dir. Sharon Maguire

holy shit ED SHEERAN JUMPSCARE!!!! oh my god i want to beat the shit out of jack. did not expect that daniel fucking died LMAOOOOO but also (massive spoiler) he's not actually dead i hope he comes back in the fourth movie giggles and kicks feet i heard that in the fourth one mark dies so bridget is alone so like maybe daniel can redeem himself when i saw mark and bridget getting married i was like oh thank god they can actually get married and daniel can't fuck her but never mind anyway i loved this movie it was funny and very bridget jones

um i forgot to write the date oopsie———————————————

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 1995 — dir. Ang Lee

this movie made my heart hurt i was surprised at how many actors i'd seen previously in other films. like i knew hugh grant was in it (that's why i wanted to watch it lol), but i didn't expect the guy from love actually and bridget jones' mother. oh my god it all hurts the more i watch it hurts i want to cry for elinor and marianne and oh my goddd. also that fucking old bitch is so annoying i forgot her name is she mrs jennings i think but like holy shit shut the fuck up!!!!! ugh i love period media GOOD MOVIE 👍 I LOVED IT but holy shit i am too gen z for how long it was i was rolling to try and find something to keep my attention but also i wanted to watch it so bad the ending was good i liked the resolve like it was actually good i didn't expect anyone to get a happy ending LMAOOO THE MOVIE IS 2 HOURS AND 16 MINUTES. the TENSION between elinor and miss steele oh my god, WHEN THE THREE OF THEM WERE IN THE SAME ROOM i wanted to scream holy shit HLEP ME MISS STEELE'S FACE AS MARIANNE RATTLES TO EDWARD AND THEN HELP ME WHEN SHE TELLS HIS SISTER(i wrote this section while watching the movie) ugh hugh grant my looooove oh my god that man is older than my FATHER also they use the word "creature" a lot to refer to people but that's probably just the 1800s i guess "my heart is... and always will be... yours." AEUUUGHUGUHHUG

01/08 UPDATE————————————————————————

ABOUT A BOY 2002 — dir. Paul Weitz and Chris Weitz

at first i thought this movie was gonna be boring and all that, but i ended up really enjoying it! it actually was really sweet, despite not seeming like it'd be. also the guy that plays the boy marcus is the voice of jon in the new garfield movie ??????????? I'M NOT JOKING LOOK IT UP but yeah i actually really liked this movie i watched it with my mom and i enjoyed it not really much to say except it turns into a really touching movie and it's actually really nice it makes me want to not hate kids but i still do anyway

14/08 UPDATE————————————————————————

DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE MORGANS? 2009 — dir. Marc Lawrence

you know,,, i'd want to kill meryl too. ugh i love hugh grant oh my god ughhhh i like the bear :) and the horses :) i don't have much to say about this movie LMAO i feel like most of it wasn't super memorable but i did enjoy it, so less rom more com but i mean that was the point. still sweet ending they finally get a kid. also is that a thing? that a kid can be alive and in the world but not yet have a name? like bro's gotta have a birth certificate with something on it right? i don't know i've never had kids (thank god) and also maybe it was chill like that or maybe it's just a movie and it's just nice and details like that don't matter ^_^

19/08 UPDATE————————————————————————

MUSIC AND LYRICS 2007 — dir. Marc Lawrence

OH MY GOD i wasn't expecting to like this movie that much but holy shit actually that ending was so sweet i cried i said i wasn't gonna lose my head but then pop goes my heart (pop goes my heart) i wasn't gonna fall in love again but then pop goes my heart ALL I WANNA DO IS FIND A WAY BACK INTO LOOOOVE ugh I WAS SO HEARTBROKEN WHEN HE TOLD HER SHE WAS LIKE THE CHARACTER IN THAT BOOK THAT GUY WROTE ABOUT HER LIKE NAOOOOOO but holy shit yeah i liked this movie actually it was actually funny not cringe and also hugh grant so 👍

[lokigodofaces]

Michelle, Marvel, & Pride 16

Link to questions.

What do you think the characters that are confirmed queer or you interpret as queer would do for pride?

Joey Gutierrez: (I haven't seen the Joey episodes in a while, so I have to actually think since I haven't seen him in forever). I think he'd go to pride with a date and go somewhere more quiet afterwards with his date. But all month, there would be lots of fun with friends and family, lots of drinks going around, overall a good time.

Peggy Carter: I don't know what was done in the '50's to celebrate not being queer, but I can see Peggy doing whatever that is. Mostly, I see her celebrating in a more private matter at home or something.

Valkyrie: Lots of alcohol, pre- or post- destruction of the valkyries. Hopefully even have a drink with a special guy or gal.

Ayo: I don't know how Wakandans celebrate pride, but I feel like Ayo would be involved. I also think the Dora Milaje would do stuff together.

Loki Laufeyson: Would go to pride but be more quiet. I imagine MCU Loki isn't very open about it yet, but he'd go to support others as a "cishet" (haha we all know that ain't true) ally. With the few people that know, he'd maybe do something with them at home or something.

Bucky Barnes: Bucky would be EXCITED to be able to celebrate being queer openly, since that wasn't really a thing in the '40's. He'd go to pride all decked out in rainbows, with a bisexual flag and a grey asexual (or just asexual flag; I've never seen grey ace flags but they got to make them, right? But maybe they're harder to come by) tied around his neck like a cape.

Wanda Maximoff: whatever traditions Sokovia had, she would do those! Lots of lazy days with Vision, who is also queer. She would have a crap ton of flag related clothing since she's abrosexual. One day, she could be wearing her denim jacket with the abrosexual, aromantic, and asexual flags sewn on. Another day, she could be doing pansexual make up and wearing black boots with pan colored laces. And some days, she only wears her abro flag necklace, because those are her heterosexual days.

Lance Hunter: goes into work with a bisexual flag wrapped around him like a shawl. He gets compliments from all the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. One person even told him she thought she was bi, but wasn't sure, because the flag let her know he wasn't queerphobic. Coulson does nothing to stop him. As long as he gets his job done, Coulson couldn't care. Hydra doesn't know what hit them when a tiny, snarky British guy in all black except a bright bisexual flag defeats several of their men.

Daisy Johnson: Daisy does her make up as pride colors every day. She switches off between bi colors and demi colors. She's not normally one for make up, but this is a fun way of celebrating pride. She gets several compliments, and even does Jemma's make up every once in a while. She takes time off to go to pride. She notices a new trend of Inhuman queers banding together, and she absolutely loves it.

Jemma Simmons: tries to sprinkle the bisexual flag everywhere. Sticky notes in the lab, what pens she uses, her outfits, even the food she eats. She gets Daisy to do her make up occasionally too. Lots of fun stuff, just her and Fitz. She also gets Fitz, Hunter, Daisy, and any other queer agents that want to join to go do something fun together. They normally end up going to a bar or a bakery that sells cute pastries and will decorate them to look like your pride flag(s).

Leopold Fitz: Honestly, Fitz isdn't that enthusiastic about pride. He's queer always, why should everyone make a big deal out of it only 30 days of the year? But he does stuff with Jemma and the others because he likes to have fun with them and have queer talk with others.

Steve Rogers: This man will go to pride and stand in front of the hecklers. How can they say that Captain America is going to hell? He usually scares most of them away just by existing, with bisexual flag face paint on and Bucky standing next to him decked out in more color than Steve has ever seen him wear.

Hela Odinsdottir: Hmm this is hard. I don't think she'd do much to be honest.

Carol Danvers: Carol would use that thing to change her suit colors to either the rainbow flag or the lesbian flag. She'd fly over parades like a lesbian angel.

Peter Parker: He'd go to pride in order to support MJ. He either would be uncertain about himself or only out to Ned and MJ. MJ would tell him it's alright to be in the closet, and he could still go to pride and celebrate. So he did, supposedly to support MJ. He buys a shirt somewhere at some point with the bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual, and polysexual flags with a saying about mspec solidarity.

MJ: She'd go to pride with Peter. She'd wear lots of pride pins. She'd be very supportive of Peter, and would buy bi pins to give him later.

Tess: There's probably not much they can do to celebrate on the Lighthouse, thanks to the Kree. Since records were erased by the Kree, I don't think she would know she is aroace or what aroaces are, so she wouldn't be celebrating.

Sam Wilson: He'd attach aromantic flags everywhere. His wings, on his boat, everywhere. When he becomes Captain America, he'll take over Steve's job of scaring off hecklers. Him and Bucky would do cute QPR stuff.

Mantis: She would be super cute at an intergalactic pride event. Someone (probably Drax) would come with her, but she would be adorable the entire time.

Nebula: She would kill homophobes.

Vision: Would have fun with Wanda. He'd become a walking queer dictionary. And would calmly explain about non-binaries when the "two genders" thing is ever said.

Well, there you have it!

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[elizabear]

my home is your body, how can I stay away?

I WROTE MY FIRST FIC. And I was brave enough to post it. So, if you want to read a fake-friends-to-real-lovers Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes post-Endgame AU where we pretend that Steve and Natasha are still alive and well in the 21st century, you can check it out below or read it on AO3.

Title: my home is your body, how can i stay away?

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Relationship: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes (background Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff)

Additional tags: it’s like fake/pretend relationship, but it’s actually fake best friendship, fake friends to real lovers, post-Avengers Endgame, Epilogue What Epilogue, Natasha Romanoff Lives, Steve Rogers Stays, is everyone bi?, ambiguous barbershop quarter, bisexual Sam Wilson, bisexual Bucky Barnes, bisexual Steve Rogers, bisexual Natasha Romanoff, Captain America Sam Wilson

Words: 30,367

Link to AO3 here

Summary: "Anyway, I think if we team up, we can convince Steve that we’re best friends now. Then he’ll get jealous and remember how much more important we are to him than Natalia.”

Sam considers this carefully. He’s never been pressed so close to Bucky before, their faces only inches away from one another. From this distance Sam can see how long and thick Bucky’s eyelashes are. He can smell the pleasant scents of Bucky’s clean sweat and spicy aftershave. 

He wants to press his thumb into the cleft in Bucky’s chin.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” Sam hears himself say.

“Great!”

After they save the world, after Steve leaves and returns again with a smiling Natasha tucked tenderly underneath his arm, after all the happy and tearful reunions, after Tony Stark’s funeral, Sam Wilson takes a minute to sit his ass underneath a tree and freak the fuck out about the fact that he’s just been dead for the last five years.

He’s listening to a robot tell him for the fifth time that his mother’s number is “no longer in service,” his hand shaking as he presses redial on Steve’s borrowed cell phone. He wants to call his sister, wants to find out what happened to his niece, but he can’t remember his sister’s number and the only thing he can think of to do is just to keep calling his mom over and over again. He’s starting to really settle into the panic attack, gulping for air as his heart pounds wildly in his chest, when Bucky Barnes squats down beside him, perfectly balanced on those lean and powerful thighs.

“You OK?” Bucky asks quietly. Sam shakes his head silently, too overwhelmed to even begin to answer that question.

Like people are just OK after waking up five years in the future. Like people are just OK after turning to ash and then reforming into a human being. What is he even made of right now? Is he made of the same atoms and cells he was made of before he turned to dust? Is he even the same person? Did Sam Wilson die? Is he just a new Sam Wilson that Bruce Banner created out of thin air, a brand new body with the same memories as the first Sam Wilson? God, what is this Ship of Theseus nonsense, everything about this is so fucked up—

“OK, I need you to breathe,” Bucky says gently, interrupting Sam’s spiral into actual fucking madness. Bucky grabs Sam’s hand and pulls it to his chest. “Can you feel my chest moving? Feel me breathing in and out? Stop thinking, close your eyes, and match your breaths to mine.”

Sam squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on the feel of Bucky’s chest rising and falling underneath his hand. Bucky’s sternum is flat and bony underneath Sam’s palm, but he can feel the gentle rise of Bucky’s strong pectoral muscles underneath his fingers. Bucky’s skin is warm through his shirt, and Sam focuses on the solid feel of him as he follows Bucky’s slow and deep breathing. Bucky’s thumb presses firmly against the inside of Sam’s wrist. There’s an anxious tingling all over Sam’s skin, washing over him from head to toe, making Sam afraid that he’s going to buzz right out of his skin.

But Bucky is breathing deep and slow, and Sam lets himself relax into it, feels himself fall in sync with this not-quite-stranger, his best friend’s best friend, who is very considerately trying to keep Sam from falling apart.

“You’re doing great, Sam,” Bucky praises gently. “Just keep breathing, you’re doing great.”

“I hate this,” Sam mutters.

Bucky strokes his thumb over the sensitive skin of Sam’s wrist and leans closer, hesitating briefly before resting his forehead against Sam’s.

“Just breathe, Sam. You’re doing so good,” he murmurs softly.

Sam feels a warmth uncurling deep in his belly, reacting to Bucky’s closeness and his quiet praise. Is Bucky the most instinctually effective peer counselor in the world or is he actually seducing Sam right out of a panic attack? Sam absolutely cannot think about this now, he needs to focus on the original source of his practical and existential terror.

“I hate every part of this,” Sam admits, frustrated. “I hate that I can’t get in touch with my mom. I hate that I don’t know if my niece is OK. Bucky, who has been taking care of my niece?”

“Hey, it’s OK, Sam.” Bucky says, his tone gentle and reassuring. “We’ll find your niece. If she survived the Snap, Steve and Natalia would have kept track of her. They wouldn’t have just let her disappear into the system. You have friends.”

“Right,” Sam says, feeling that glacier sitting atop his chest begin to recede a little. “OK. Friends. Steve and Natasha will know how to find Michelle. I just need to ask Steve and Natasha how to find Sarah and Michelle.”

“Great! See, you have a plan now and everything,” Bucky says encouragingly. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine, Sam.” Bucky leans back onto his heels, and Sam breathes a little deeper as the world comes into sharper focus.

Sam nods. This is all going to be fine. He’s alive, he’s breathing, and he has his hand on Bucky Barnes’s warm, firm chest. Bucky’s eyes are kind, and Sam can almost understand, maybe for the first time, why Steve cared so much about bringing Bucky home. Maybe Bucky isn’t so bad. Maybe everything is going to be fine. Sam can just about manage, now, to stuff all this panic inside his chest where it can’t hurt him. If he just stuffs it in there forever, he will never have to deal with it.

Sam takes a moment to congratulate himself on his healthy coping strategies.

“You’re not too bad at this, man,” Sam says. “Where did you learn to handle a panic attack like that?”

“Well, I mean, I had a lot of them after realizing that I was responsible for literally dozens of grisly murders,” Bucky replies dryly. “But also I spent like fifteen years obsessing over the state of Steve Rogers’s lungs and trying to keep him from dying of asthma so he could grow up and be Captain America.”

Right. Captain America. That’s the other thing he’s panicking about.

“Hey, what just happened?” Bucky asks gently. Bucky strokes his thumb over Sam’s wrist. “Your blood pressure just shot way up again.”

“Tell me you’re not some kind of human sphygmomanometer,” Sam says. “I don’t have the patience for that level of weird right now. Stop monitoring my blood pressure. That’s creepy.”

“OK,” Bucky says slowly. “Sorry. What’s going on?”

“Steve asked me to be Captain America. Says he’s not retiring, but he’s needed off-world for a while, and he thinks I should be the one to carry the shield.”

Suddenly, just like that, the strange, tentative peace between them shatters. Bucky’s face turns white, then flushes a deep red.

“Steve asked you to be Captain America,” Bucky repeats coldly. All traces of warmth are gone from Bucky’s face, and Bucky’s mouth settles into a grim line. “Excuse me a moment.”

Sam sighs as Bucky stalks off in Steve’s general direction.

Bucky returns a few moments later, Steve in tow, the two of them having some kind of whisper fight that Sam can’t really hear.

“Can’t believe you would do this—”

“—you know he’s a good choice—”

“—supposed to be your best friend—”

“—c’mon, Buck, you know I wouldn’t—”

Bucky yanks on Steve’s wrist as they approach Sam.

“OK, first of all, Steve, where the fuck is Sam’s family?” Bucky demands.

Steve pales, then looks genuinely contrite. “Oh, God, Sam, I’m sorry. I should have told you right away. Sarah and Michelle, they survived. They both survived the Snap. They’re living in your mom’s apartment in New York.” Steve hesitates for a moment, then adds, “Your mom was one of the ones who disappeared. She was at home watching Michelle when it happened. She should be safe. We’ll get a phone to her right away.”

Sam feels his stomach plunge at the knowledge that Michelle is five years older. He already missed two years of her life on the run with Steve after the Accords. Would she even remember him?

“Nat has your old phone stashed away. It should still have all your contacts in it. Natasha—she paid the bill. Every month you were gone. She never gave up hope we’d get you back,” Steve says, looking proud and a little teary-eyed.

While Sam works on processing the fact that his six-year-old niece is now his eleven-year-old niece, Steve rambles on about Natasha, and how brave she was, and what a rock she was, and how she kept everyone together, and how she sacrificed her life to save everyone, for kind of a while. Sam’s honestly kind of surprised. Steve and Natasha have always been close, but Sam’s never seen Steve as openly effusive about anyone other than James Buchanan Barnes Before The War, Steve’s most favorite person ever.

“OK, that’s great, Steve,” Bucky interrupts in a frosty tone. “But what’s this about Sam being the new Captain America?”

“Oh! Carol wants Natasha and me to go with her to a couple of planets that are struggling to organize after their populations suddenly doubled. Actually, I thought maybe you could come with us, Buck?” Steve offers. “I know how much you love space and—”

“No, Steve, I think I’ll stay here with Sam,” Bucky says stonily, glaring at Steve. Sam is a little stunned.

“What? Why?” Steve asks. He looks a bit like a confused golden retriever. “I thought you’d jump at this opportunity, Bucky, you really—”

“I really think I should stay here. Since I’m Captain America’s right hand man and all. And since Sam is Captain America now.”

Sam doesn’t really know what to do with all of this, because it seems like there’s really a lot going on here between Steve and Bucky that he doesn’t want to get involved with. And honestly, he’s not one hundred percent sold on the idea of working with Bucky at all, since they hardly even know each other. Today is the first time they’ve really interacted in a way that isn’t hostile or at the very least kind of pissy, and to be honest the uncomfortable sexual tension Sam felt earlier wasn’t exactly welcome.

But then a thought occurs to him, and Sam is instantly filled with delight. “So wait. What you’re saying is that you’re going to be my sidekick!”

“What, no, I’m not going to be your sidekick, I’m going to be your partner,” Bucky argues.

“Nuh uh, nope. It’s right there in the comics. Bucky Barnes was Captain America’s sidekick,” Sam says with a smirk. “Are you gonna wear the outfit?”

“What outfit?” asks Bucky, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh! The outfit with the little booty shorts?” Steve asks.

“I’m not wearing an outfit with little booty shorts,” Bucky says scornfully. “I’ll wear my regular outfit.”

“Leather bondage gear it is, then!” Sam replies. He feels more cheerful already.

***

“So what else did we miss?” Sam asks later, when they’re all settled in at one of the cabins on Tony’s property.

Steve and Natasha are tangled up together on the sofa, Natasha’s legs slung over Steve’s lap and her head resting against his chest. Steve and Nat have been trading inside jokes and finishing each other’s sentences all night, and it kind of seems like Sam and Bucky must have really missed a lot, because Sam doesn’t remember Steve and Nat being so telepathically linked before he got dusted.

Bucky is sitting alone, tense and uncomfortable-looking, in a chair near the fire. He must still be pretty pissed at Steve for choosing Sam over him as the next Captain America, because he keeps shooting murder glares at Steve through narrowed eyes. When Steve’s not gazing adoringly at Natasha, he’s busy having a silent argument with Bucky through a complicated series of expressions that include rolled eyes, pleading looks, clenched jaws, and prissy, pursed lips. Sam is honestly feeling pretty left out right now, because there’s a lot of unspoken communication going on here between basically everyone but him.

Steve heaves a frustrated sigh, tears his gaze away from Bucky, and responds, “Well, they built a giant wall between the United States and Mexico. It was a pretty big deal, lots of people were really unhappy.”

“Seriously? Half of the entire United States population disappears, and Americans are still freaking out about immigration from Mexico?” Sam asks incredulously.

“Oh, no, we didn’t build the wall. Mexico actually built the wall,” Natasha says. The wicked look in her eye suggests that this is going to be a good story.

“Wait, what? That stupid promise actually came true?” Bucky asks.

“Well, kind of?” Natasha says, giving a little so-so motion with her hand. “Mexico didn’t actually build the wall because of illegal immigration, though. They built it after a bunch of riots and border skirmishes in late 2020.”

“So, what? Gang violence? Drug cartels?” Sam asks.

“Nope. It was the season finale of a television show on the CW called Supernatural,” Steve explains, as if this doesn’t make the whole thing somehow even more confusing.

“You’re telling me that we were gone for five years and now CW shows are a source of tension between the United States and Mexico and they built an entire wall about it,” Sam says, raising his eyebrows.

Sam is dubious as hell about this new foolishness—he’s starting to feel a lot more sympathetic towards Steve’s frustration with all the impenetrable pop culture references people expected him to grasp—but Bucky visibly perks up at the mention of Supernatural. “Oh, how did that go? Is Destiel canon yet?” Bucky asks.

“No,” Steve responds at the same time that Natasha replies, “Si.” Then they both cackle wildly, as if this is some seriously comedic shit, and honestly, Sam’s getting a little annoyed with all their inside jokes. He sneaks a look over at Bucky to see how he’s responding to all this, and Sam is relieved to feel slightly less like an asshole when he sees that Bucky doesn’t look any more charmed by Steve and Natasha’s Abbott and Costello routine than Sam feels.

“OK,” Sam says slowly, really drawing the word out. “So I guess if I want to understand all of that”—here, Sam gestures broadly at Steve and Natasha, attempting to convey his incredulity at their unnecessary dramatics—“that you just did, and apparently also current U.S. foreign policy, I’m going to have to watch a TV show on the CW.”

“It’s fifteen seasons, it makes for great depression watching,” says Natasha, shrugging. Bucky nods in agreement. “And Steve was pretty genuinely moved by the relationship between the two brothers.”

Steve confirms this with a solemn nod. “They were brothers, but they were also best friends.”

“Anyway it was better than a lot of the junk we watched while you were gone,” Natasha continues. “Half the time Steve and I spent in bed together we were just binge watching trash tv and getting overly invested in the love lives of twenty-five year olds pretending to be teenagers pretending to be detectives.”

Bucky shoots Sam a significant glance at this, somehow communicating half the time they spent in bed together? with the tense raising of his eyebrows alone, and says, “Sam and I will watch Supernatural together. I’ll get him caught up.”

And yeah, maybe fifteen seasons sounds like an awful lot of time to commit to spite-watching a television show with Bucky just to handle how weird he feels about Steve and Natasha’s whole new bed sharing thing together, but then Bucky stretches his arms over his head and reveals a pale sliver of belly, little trail of hair drawing Sam’s eyes pleasingly downward.

“Yeah, all right,” Sam says. After all, this Supernatural show does sound pretty important to this sketchy new future Sam didn’t ask to find himself in.

Bucky turns to Steve. “So when do you and Natalia have to head out?”

“Probably in a week or two. We want to make sure everything’s settled here before we head out.”

“A week or two, Steve, really? You think Sam’s going to be ready to be Captain America in a week or two,” Bucky says flatly.

Sam thinks Bucky sort of has a point, but out of loyalty to Steve and his own sense of competence he keeps his mouth shut.

Steve’s shoulders hunch defensively. “It’s going to be fine, you’re going to do a great job supporting Sam.”

“I shouldn’t have to support Sam, Steve—”

“Bucky, c’mon, you know I wouldn’t have—”

“Not even a supersoldier, Steve—”

“Sam doesn’t have to be—”

Natasha is listening to this argument with a fond look on her face, like she actually missed this shit while they were gone.

“OK, listen,” Sam interrupts before Steve and Bucky get too distracted by their bullshit. “The Captain America thing is huge, yeah. But I feel like maybe we also need to be concerned about the world’s population suddenly doubling instantaneously? That’s kind of a big deal.”

“Oh!” Steve lights up. “Natasha’s had a plan set up for that since like a week after you guys disappeared. She’s spent the last five years preparing for every contingency, basically every scientific or magical possibility that might bring you guys back. In fact, phase one has already started, getting lines of communication open to reconnect families and arranging emergency housing.”

Steve beams down at Natasha, and then—Sam can’t even fucking believe this—Natasha actually blushes in response. Steve and Natasha are, respectively, the most repressed and tightly controlled people Sam knows, and now they’re acting like emotionally healthy people who express their feelings in front of other people? Sam is suspicious as hell, and when he looks over at Bucky, Bucky is bug-eyed, looking frantically and significantly at Sam with that unmistakable are you seeing this too, what the fuck expression on his face. Sam hates the fact that things are so weird now that he’s bonding with Bucky over this.

“Pepper Potts is coordinating everything through the Avengers Foundation,” Natasha says. “She needs something to do right now, and she’s basically the most frighteningly efficient person I know, so. Your only job right now is figuring out how to work together without killing each other.”

Natasha eyes them both a bit skeptically, and Sam is instantly offended at this implied slight to his professionalism.

“Bucky and I are going to do great,” Sam says. “We are definitely going to be absolutely fine at working together.” He shoots Bucky a hard look, daring him to disagree.

“Absolutely fine,” Bucky repeats dutifully, then hesitates. “You’re sure, though, right, Sam? You really want to do the Captain America thing?”

“Definitely,” Sam confirms. Bucky searches his eyes for a moment, then nods, apparently satisfied with whatever he finds.

“Great!” Natasha says with a pleased smile, and shares a satisfied look with Steve.

“Anyway,” Sam says, changing the subject, before they can figure out Sam has no fucking clue how to be Captain America and definitely doesn’t feel certain about working with Bucky Barnes. “What else did we miss while we were gone? How did Brexit go?”

“Oh, God,” Steve says.

***

The next morning, Sam walks down to the cabin’s kitchen for breakfast and finds a disaster.

“Is this a murder board?” he asks, aghast.

The wall next to the kitchen table is absolutely covered in papers that have been hastily pinned up, and there are at least eleven different colors of string stretched together in a complicated web over top of them, forming a bizarre rainbow of crazy. Where did Bucky even find that many different colors of string in the middle of the night? Did he break into a Joann Fabrics?

The kitchen table is littered with papers as well, and Sam counts six different green tea bags sitting on a napkin next to Bucky’s mug. “Have you been up all night?”

“No! And yes!” Bucky answers, his eyes red rimmed and wild, looking simultaneously exhausted and absolutely frantic with energy. He cards his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Do you know how much money Stark was spending on the Avengers Initiative after you guys blew up SHIELD? The litigation team! The insurance premiums! The property damage settlements! Weapons and technology! Research and development! Sam, the cost was astronomical!”

“Wait, this is all financial stuff? I thought this was more of, like, a traditional murder board situation here.” Sam pauses, then struck with sudden uncertainty, he asks, “Is financial stuff part of Captain America stuff?”

“Well, I mean, kind of, yeah,” Bucky responds. He stands up and restlessly paces the tiny kitchen. “You didn’t think you were going to just run off with the shield and, like, live off the kindness of strangers or something, did you?”

“Obviously, no,” Sam says, offended. Actually, though—not that Sam is going to admit it—Sam hasn’t had a real job in so long that he sort of forgot that this was going to be an issue. “Wait, did you get all this stuff by hacking Stark Industries?”

“Well, yeah,” says Bucky, defensive now. “I didn’t want to be rude and ask Ms. Potts in the middle of the night. Also I killed her daughter’s grandparents.”

Sam considers this for a moment, then shrugs. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he says. “So what about the funding we had before? Is that gone?”

“It’s not gone, but there’s no way the money in Steve’s and my bank account will be enough.”

“Wait, you and Steve share a bank account?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrows.

Bucky’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Well, yeah, of course. Why would Steve and I need separate bank accounts?” he asks, looking puzzled.

“Why would you...” Sam repeats faintly. “OK. Moving on from that codependent nonsense, you and Steve were the ones funding us while we were on the run? Steve never said.”

“Well, I mean, I did steal a bunch of money from HYDRA, and Steve had some backpay saved up. But there’s no way Steve and I have Captain America money. Stark barely had Captain America money. Sam, he was spending down his entire fortune on the Avengers Initiative. Did you guys know he was doing that?”

Sam closes his eyes, shaking off the waves of guilt and grief he felt at the mention of Tony’s generosity. “No, I didn’t,” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” Bucky says grimly. “It’s bad. Like, really, really bad. You aren’t an international fugitive anymore. If you want to be Captain America, you won’t be able to just save people, destroy a few buildings, then dash off to the next country before the police catch up to you. You have to actually deal with the fallout afterward. And, most importantly, and I cannot stress this enough, you need actual income. Was Stark seriously the only one of you with a real job?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Of course he was,” Bucky says, deflating and leaning back against the counter with a thud. “God, you’re all idiots. I went off to war in the 1940s and I left one Steve back at home. Then I fell off a train, woke up seventy years later, and found out that Steve managed to find an entire team full of Steves, and each one of you is just as beautiful and heroic and stupid and utterly impractical as he is.” Bucky raises his metal hand to massage his temples, apparently fighting a headache so powerful that even his serum-enhanced regular arm isn’t strong enough to deal with it.

Sam carefully ignores Bucky’s insinuation that he finds Sam beautiful and heroic. Instead he pours Bucky a glass of water and slides it over to him. “OK, so what do we do?”

“Well, you’re not going to like it.”

“I’m not, huh? Just tell me.”

“We have to rebuild SHIELD,” Bucky states firmly. “We have to get in touch with Nick Fury.”

“Absolutely not,” Sam says.

“Sam, it’s the only reasonable choice. We can’t afford to privately fund your career as a superhero, OK? I mean, the insurance? The legal team? I’ve drafted fifteen different budgets and there’s no way we can get this off the ground. But if we rebuild SHIELD, there’ll be funding and qualified immunity. You won’t even have to work directly for SHIELD. You could be an independent contractor.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I know. But it’s the only way.”

“Is Fury even going to listen to us, though?” Sam asks skeptically. “Like, will he even hire you? You shot him, like, five times.”

Bucky grimaces. “Yeah, that wasn’t great. But listen, the man’s probably been waiting for this moment for years. If he can get Steve and Natalia’s public support behind SHIELD 2.0? He’ll seize the chance.”

“Shit,” Sam says.

***

When Steve and Natasha come downstairs, sleepy and happy looking, casually emerging from the same bedroom that Sam knows only has one queen size bed, like bed sharing is just a regular part of their regular lives now, Bucky introduces them to the financial murder board.

“So if you really want to do this, if you want Sam to be Captain America, we need to rebuild SHIELD,” Bucky concludes.

“SHIELD?” Natasha perks up. “We’re getting the old gang back together?”

“Natasha, like, 40% of the old gang were secret Nazis,” Steve says reproachfully. “And more importantly, Nick Fury didn’t notice they were secret Nazis.”

“He definitely started to suspect something was wrong near the end there, though,” says Natasha.

“Well, he’s our best shot at getting government funding, so unless you want to ask Tony Stark’s grieving widow for money, I think this is the best we can do.” Bucky turns to Natasha. “Natalia, you know how to get in touch with him, right?” he asks.

“I do. Pepper sent out working satellite phones via courier last night. They should have arrived by this morning. I’ll give him a call,” Natasha says. “He’s going to love this.”

“Your mom should have gotten a phone too, Sam,” Steve says. “I’ll text you her number so you can give her a call.”

“Thanks, man,” Sam says, relieved. While Steve works on sending Sam his mom’s contact info—does Steve’s phone have a holographic display? Does Old Man Steve know how to work a phone with a holographic display?—Sam asks Bucky, “How did you even pull all these records together, by the way? Are you like a secret accountant?”

“Bucky worked as an actuary before the war,” Steve responds absently, thumbing at some buttons on his phone screen. “He was getting his degree in mathematics before he dropped out to enlist.”

“An actuary?” Natasha asks thoughtfully. “I can see that. That actually makes a lot of sense.”

“It paid the bills,” Bucky allows.

When Sam receives Steve’s text with his mom’s contact info, he steps outside for a bit of privacy. Sam watches Steve and Natasha leaning together through the sliding glass window as he waits for his mom to answer the phone. Sam feels a pit growing deep in his belly, a black hole that’s been sucking in everything Sam could have lived and built and experienced in the past five years, leaving him empty and lonely and lost, missing parts of himself that he should have been gaining. Inside, Bucky is standing alone in front of murder board, his shoulders tense, while Steve and Natasha talk and smile and touch each other’s forearms.

“Sam? Sam, baby, are you OK?”

“Mom!” Sam exclaims. “Mom, I’m OK. I’m OK.”

“Thank God,” she says in relief. “We’re OK too. Sarah and Michelle, they’ve been living in my apartment. Michelle’s eleven years old now, Sam. We missed five years of her life. How did this happen?”

And Sam tells her how it happened. He tells her about the battle, and then the second battle, and then realizing that he had died and was resurrected by magical stones. He tells her about Bucky Barnes, standing there in disgruntled disbelief when Steve and Natasha explained that they’d woken up five years into the future, his only reaction to state flatly, “I was told that this wouldn’t happen to me again.”

When he tells her that Steve’s asked him to be the new Captain America, Sam’s mom gasps in surprise. “Captain America? Sam, are you sure?”

“Yeah, Mom. I am sure. I think I could really do some good,” Sam says softly.

“Do you have good people around you? Do you have people who will take care of you?”

Sam thinks of Steve and Natasha leaving for space in a few weeks, moving on to bigger and more complicated catastrophes, superheroes who’ve grown so powerful and competent and amazing that they’re needed elsewhere, on worlds larger than their own. And then he thinks of Bucky Barnes staying up all night to do superhero math so Sam can be Captain America, even though Bucky is apparently pissed that Steve chose Sam for the honor instead of him.

“Yeah,” Sam says. “I have people who will take care of me.”

***

That evening, Sam and Bucky sit at the table and watch Steve and Natasha put together the most disgusting struggle dinner Sam has ever seen. Steve is piling gross stacks of bologna onto bread and seems to think condiments are optional, while Natasha has dumped a bag of iceberg lettuce into a bowl and poured an entire bottle of ranch dressing on top of it. This, she insists, is a “salad.” Steve and Natasha move expertly around each other in the kitchen like they’re performing a choreographed dance, casually touching each other’s shoulders and hips as they slide past each other. Obviously they’ve created this sort of repulsive dinner situation more than once. What have these two been eating for the last five years? Sam can’t resist glancing up at Bucky to catch a look of horror on Bucky’s face, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

When Steve sets their plates of dry bologna sandwiches and the soggy bowl of lettuce onto the table onto the table, Bucky suddenly announces that he’s vegan.

“You are?” Steve asks suspiciously. “Since when?”

Sensing an opportunity, Sam rushes to support Bucky’s desperate ploy to avoid this dinner. “Bucky and I are both vegan, actually. It’s new.”

“Really,” Natasha says. “You and Bucky do stuff together now. Stuff like going vegan.”

“Uh huh,” Sam says staunchly.

The best way to handle Natasha is just to brazen it out. She’ll suspect that you’re lying, but she won’t actually say anything until she has proof. Unfortunately, she’ll stoop to any and all means—however invasive or conniving—to catch you out. Sam guesses he and Bucky are both vegan forever now.

“Go ahead and eat your dinner,” Bucky says. “I’ll just make Sam and me something while you guys eat.”

While Steve and Natasha eat and trade inside jokes and talk about a bunch of political events Sam does not understand—did Michigan actually successfully secede from the Union?—Sam watches in astonishment as Bucky prepares the most incredible looking burrito bowls Sam’s ever seen in his life. In like twenty minutes, the dude whips up some chipotle lime black beans, diced tomatoes, corn, fajita veggies, and quinoa, then proceeds to make pineapple mango salsa from scratch using a mortar and pestle. Where did Bucky even get these ingredients? The last time Sam checked, the fridge was almost empty.

Bucky looks relaxed and capable, and Sam watches the muscles in Bucky’s back shift and move as he chops and grinds and sautés. Bucky’s got a kitchen towel slung casually over his shoulder, and a few strands of hair at his temples curl a bit in the steam coming off the stove top.

“So what else did y’all get up to in the last five years?” Sam asks.

“Oh! Should we tell them about the—” Natasha begins, her eyes lighting up.

“You mean the dude with the—”

“With the plastic fangs!” Natasha finishes, wheezing with laughter. “What was that guy’s name? Oh, God—”

“—Baron Blood!” they exclaim in unison, cackling.

Sam can’t help but feel a little annoyed by how easily Steve and Natasha finish each other’s sentences. Sam knows, intellectually, that Steve and Natasha lived each one of the five years that went by in seconds for him and Bucky. He knows that Steve and Natasha have always been close and that it makes sense for them to, like, trauma bond after everything they’ve gone through together. But he’s never felt so left out by his own best friends before. He looks over at Bucky, relieved when he sees his own feelings of frustration and isolation mirrored on Bucky’s face.

“Wait, you fought the Bloody Baron from Harry Potter?” Bucky asks.

“No, it was Baron Blood, not the Bloody Baron.”

“Was the guy an actual baron, or were his parents just rich and tacky? Was his first name Baron?” Sam asks, fascinated despite himself.

“I think it was, like, a self-appointed title?” Natasha says. “I don’t think he was a real baron. Anyway, Steve decapitated him with his shield.”

“He was a Nazi vampire,” Steve explains.

“Like an actual vampire? Are we fighting actual vampires now?” Sam asks.

“I think so,” Natasha says doubtfully. “Steve had to soak his shield in holy water blessed by the pope first. It was a whole thing.”

“Wait, are you guys talking about Todd?” Bucky asks. “Brown hair, red eyes, ranted a lot about what an important superpower echolocation was?”

“Yes! Did you know this guy?” Steve asks.

“Eh, we weren’t close or anything. But there were some weird ass HYDRA experiments in the eighties and nineties. Most people these days think the Satanic Panic was a myth, but actually HYDRA really did have agents trying to indoctrinate daycare kids into supernatural cults. Todd was one of the evil brainwashed HYDRA daycare kids, volunteered to get some really hinky stuff done to him to try to create a master race of genetically pure vampires. Oh, and he was super obsessed with you, Steve.”

“Oh, God, was he ever,” Natasha says. “Let me tell you what he did when he got Steve tied up in his gross dungeon—”

***

While Natasha says goodbye to Bucky, squeezing Bucky and muttering something in Russian in Bucky’s ear, Sam is startled to feel Steve grab him tightly and pull him into an aggressive hug. Sam takes a minute to breathe in Steve’s familiar, comforting smell—still wearing Bay Rum even after all this time—and rests his chin on Steve’s strong shoulder.

“We love you,” Steve says, then hands him off to Natasha.

Natasha gives him a sweet kiss on the mouth. “We’ll miss you,” she says.

When Steve and Natasha disappear into the distance, Sam looks over at Bucky. “We, we, we,” Bucky says wryly.

***

Six weeks later, Sam and Bucky have formed a pretty solid partnership. They’re still living in one of the cabins on Tony Stark’s property in upstate New York for now, but they’re scheduled to report for duty at the new SHIELD headquarters in New York City on Monday.

Steve and Natasha are coming back to Earth this evening, scheduled for security briefings and press events promoting the resurrection of SHIELD, promising the public that Sam is going to make a great Captain America and that there definitely aren’t any more secret Nazis in the upper echelons of power at SHIELD.

As far as Sam can tell, Bucky’s still pretty pissed at Steve for asking Sam to be Captain America instead of him, but fortunately that grudge doesn’t seem to be carrying over to Sam. Instead, Bucky is perfectly pleasant and helpful as hell, which is pretty terrific considering the fact that Sam could use all the help he can get right now. Learning how to use the shield—especially while flying—is complicated as fuck and Sam probably would have lost patience pretty quickly without Bucky reassuring him that Steve was shit at math and definitely was not doing trigonometric calculations in his head while he fought.

“Does Steve seem like the kind of guy who’s doing a lot of thinking while he’s fighting? No, this is all practice and muscle memory,” says Bucky, clapping Sam’s shoulder. “C’mon, Steve and Natalia are scheduled to get here in like an hour. Let’s take showers and get ready to meet them for dinner.”

It’s humid as fuck outside and Bucky’s shirt is drenched in sweat, clinging so tightly to his skin that Sam can count each one of his abdominal muscles individually. Bucky raises a water bottle to his mouth and takes a long pull. Sam watches a drip of sweat slide down Bucky’s throat.

“Yeah, good plan,” Sam says. A cool shower sounds really refreshing right now.

***

When they meet Steve and Natasha for dinner, Sam nearly forgets that he and Bucky are pretending to be vegan until Bucky orders a wheatberry salad and then kicks Sam underneath the table. Sam grimaces and reaches down to rub his shin, looking regretfully at the shiny picture of the giant burger and fries that Steve ordered on his menu.

“I’ll have the wheatberry salad too,” Sam says, trying not to sound too sad about it.

Steve and Natasha are bursting with stories about space. They’re happy and full of excitement, and if anything, they’re somehow even closer than when they left. They have very strong feelings about Kree politics, and they tell a lot of stories about famous people from space that Sam does not know. They touch each other constantly.

The wheatberry salad is amazing.

“So what else happened while we were gone?” Bucky asks, mercifully changing the subject from the boring Kree legislative process. “How did the last season of Game of Thrones go?”

“Oh, it was incredible,” Natasha raves, her eyes lighting up. “David Benioff and D. B. Weiss were taken in the Snap, so they had to hire this fantasy author named Brandon Sanderson to write it. Everyone was really skeptical about how it would go—especially with half of the cast gone—but he did an amazing job. It’s now considered one of the strongest finales of any show in history.”

“You know, I never could get into Game of Thrones,” Sam remarks. “All those big-budget fantasy dynastic political dramas are just so unrealistic.”

“See, that’s what Shuri said when I told her I was watching it to research living in a monarchy after I moved to Wakanda,” Bucky says. “But then her secret illegitimate cousin traveled from across the sea to claim her brother’s throne in a trial by combat. And then her supposedly slain brother dramatically returned from the dead with the help of a magical herb in order to defeat the usurper in battle, so.” Bucky lifts his shoulders and raises his hands in a sort of smug, so who turned out to be right there? kind of shrug.

“Yeah, OK,” Sam concedes, tipping his head to acknowledge the point.

“It’s crazy that we’ll never know how much better it could have been with Benioff and Weiss at the helm, though,” Steve says, and Sam’s stomach drops a bit as he’s hit by another wave of wrongness, that same ears-ringing, tunnel-vision-forming wrongness he’s been feeling since he dramatically returned from the dead. Because what’s the deal with Steve being so literate in pop culture that he not only watches hit prestige dramas but actually knows the names of the writers? To Sam, it was just a few weeks ago that Steve declared Star Trek: The Next Generation “a bit too flashy” for his taste.

“Hey, did George R. R. Martin ever finish the books?” Bucky asks hopefully.

“No, he died,” Steve says.

***

Later that night, after Steve and Natasha have conspicuously gone to bed together, Bucky grabs Sam’s hand, puts a finger to his lips, quirks an eyebrow, and leads Sam silently into a small closet on the first floor of the house. The closet is full of thick winter coats that push Sam and Bucky right up against a wall, their bodies pressed tightly together. Bucky turns on the flashlight app from his phone to give them some light.

“What are we doing in here?” Sam whispers.

“It’s the only place in the house where Steve won’t be able to hear us. Just keep your voice down,” Bucky explains.

“Oh, shit. We’re not plotting to overthrow SHIELD again, are we?”

“No!” Bucky says. “It’s been like six weeks. HYDRA won’t have a secret majority interest in SHIELD for another twenty years at least. Look, have you noticed how Steve and Natalia are, like, obsessed with each other now?”

“Yes! What is with that? I thought I was Steve’s best friend!” Sam hisses.

“Well, you and Steve are definitely close friends,” Bucky says skeptically. “But best friendship is an exclusive relationship. It’s the closest and most intimate connection you can have with someone. And you can only have one of them. Your best friend is someone you would kill for, someone that you would die for, someone you would come back from seventy years of brainwashing for. Someone you would drop the very symbol of everything you believe in for. So, I think we can all agree that I was Steve’s best friend.”

Bucky looks pretty self-satisfied after that whole speech.

“I don’t think we can all agree that you were Steve’s best friend,” Sam says, tilting his head skeptically.

“Well, I was, but the point is that I don’t think I am anymore. I think Natalia might be Steve’s best friend now,” Bucky whispers, irritated.

“I know! I hate it,” Sam confesses. “Steve and Nat and I used to all be best friends. Now they have all these inside jokes and I feel left out all the time.”

“Again, Sam, you can’t have two best friends,” Bucky corrects. “Anyway, I know we haven’t always gotten along in the past, and maybe some of us have made mistakes like kicking people off helicarriers or wrecking their cars, but I think if we want Steve back, we might be able to work together on this.”

“I’m listening,” Sam says.

“OK, so I think we need to try to make them jealous.”

“I don’t think Nat gets jealous. Does Steve get jealous?” Sam says doubtfully.

“Oh, Steve gets jealous,” Bucky confirms. “Did you know that like five seconds after I admitted that I remembered growing up with Steve, he immediately started getting passive aggressive about some redhead named Dot that I spent three dollars on back in 1937? It was like the very first thing he brought up.”

“Oh, God, was Dot short for Dolores?” Sam asks. “Steve complained about her all the time while we were out searching for you.”

“That was her!” Bucky says. “Steve was so jealous of Dolores. Anyway, I think if we team up, we can convince Steve that we’re best friends now. Then he’ll get jealous and remember how much more important we are to him than Natalia.”

Sam considers this carefully. He’s never been pressed so close to Bucky before, their faces only inches away from one another. From this distance Sam can see how long and thick Bucky’s eyelashes are. He can smell the pleasant scents of Bucky’s clean sweat and spicy aftershave.

He wants to press his thumb into the cleft in Bucky’s chin.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” Sam hears himself say.

“Great!”

***

The next day, while Steve and Natasha are busy in meetings with Rhodey and Fury, Sam moves into his new apartment in Brooklyn. It’s not actually so much his new apartment so much as it is Steve’s old apartment, but apparently Steve doesn’t need it anymore since he’s spending so much time out in space with Natasha and he “can always just stay with Nat while I’m in town, it’s no trouble, Sam, Natasha and I are used to bunking together.”

Sam actually has a lot of questions about how used to bunking together Steve and Natasha are.

Sam’s unpacking his clothes when he hears the doorbell ring. His spine stiffens and his fingers twitch for a weapon. Steve and Natasha are both scheduled to be out for hours still, and Steve’s a pretty private guy. Sam doubts many people know about his apartment.

He grabs a gun from his safe, loads it, and walks silently toward the front door.

“Sam, I know you’re in there.”

The muffled voice on the other side of the door is thankfully familiar. Sam feels the tension in his chest release and he lowers his gun. It’s just Bucky.

Unfortunately, all that tension in Sam’s chest immediately returns when Sam opens the door to discover that Bucky is, for some reason, carrying a duffel bag and surrounded by cardboard boxes. Sam’s stomach sinks.

“What the fuck, Sam?” Bucky complains, shoving past him into the entryway and setting down his bag. “You didn’t even look through the peephole to make sure no one was holding me at gunpoint? If we’re going to live together you’re going to have to be a lot more careful about security. I have a lot of enemies.”

“I’m sorry, if we’re going to live together?” Sam repeats, horrified. He puts the safety back on his gun and sets it down onto the counter.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Um, yes? Remember our whole fake-best-friends plan? You literally just agreed to it last night. Here, help me with these boxes.”

Bucky goes back into the hallway, where he bends over to lift a box labeled “pots and pans,” his skinny jeans stretching obscenely over his ass and thighs.

“Yeah, OK,” Sam says, and follows him out into the hallway.

***

“OK, so, explain this to me again: why does being fake best friends mean that we have to be actual roommates?” Sam asks later, passing Bucky a beer.

They’re sitting on Sam’s couch now, surrounded by fifteen boxes labeled, variously: “favorite grenade launchers,” “crossbows,” “guns (1 of 10),” “scopes and silencers,” “marijuana,” and “warm sweaters.”

“Is this beer vegan?” Bucky asks, checking the label. “Hold on, I’m gonna need to look this up.”

“Wait, are you actually vegan?” Sam asks, watching in astonishment as Bucky pulls up an app on his phone, types in the name of the beer Steve left in the fridge, frowns, and then gets up to put the beer back into the fridge. “I thought we were just pretending to be vegan to avoid Steve’s bologna sandwiches and that gross salad.”

“We were! But then I looked it up afterward to make sure I could pull this off in front of Natalia and I actually read a lot of really harrowing and kind of horrifying stuff about animal agriculture,” Bucky says, grimacing. “Anyway, if we want Steve and Natalia to believe that we’re best friends, we’re going to have to live together. Steve and I always lived together, and Steve moved in with you like five seconds after he met you.”

“To be fair to Steve, he did make it two very sad years living alone in the most depressing apartment I have ever seen, and he didn’t move in with me until you shot a man through his walls,” Sam says.

“That was just an excuse,” Bucky says, waving his hand airily. “Steve and I spent the entire winter of 1937 living in an uninsulated attic apartment with a broken window. If Steve didn’t want to live with you, he would have just slapped some duct tape over those bullet holes and gotten an extra blanket.”

Sam considers this and then reluctantly concedes the point. He’s seen Steve look unnervingly comfortable in some pretty horrific living situations over the past couple of years.

“All right, fine. But do we really need every gun ever made in our living room? I feel like surrounding yourself with this amount of weaponry has got to be an unhealthy coping strategy.”

Sam feels pretty confident about this—he’d been like three-quarters of the way through his Master’s coursework to become a licensed professional counselor when Steve Rogers bulldozed his way into his life.

“And what are we going to do if we need to take down SHIELD again, Sam?” Bucky demands. “How much do we really trust Nick Fury? Anyway, we aren’t storing these in the living room, Sam, that would be tacky.”

“Uh huh,” Sam says, his stomach sinking. “And where are we storing them?” He has a bad feeling about this.

“In the spare bedroom, of course.”

“What spare bedroom.”

“The spare bedroom-slash-armory! We only really need one bedroom, Sam. Steve and I always shared a bedroom.”

“Did you,” Sam says. “And I suppose you shared a bed too.”

“Of course we did. Why would Steve and I need separate beds? We were best friends.”

Bucky gives Sam an odd look, like he thinks Sam in the one being strange about this. As if indefinitely sharing a bed is just normal best friend stuff. Sam wants to believe that this is some kind of Depression era, growing-up-in-poverty sort of thing, but honestly Steve and Bucky are just so intensely weird about each other that Sam is pretty sure that it’s actually a Steve-and-Bucky thing.

Sam thinks about sharing a bed with Bucky every night. He wonders if Bucky wears a shirt to bed, or if Bucky slides into bed bare-chested, wearing only a pair of shorts or maybe even just some tightly fitted boxer briefs.

“All right,” Sam says, sighing.

***

Later that night, when they’re lying in bed catching up on Supernatural—he has got to know how this show somehow became relevant to international geopolitics—Bucky leans over to pull a huge bag of weed out of the nightstand. Then he slowly, carefully rolls the fattest joint Sam has ever seen. It’s somehow absolutely massive but still structurally sound and perfectly balanced. Sam puts the show on pause because he has a lot of questions about this.

“Where did you learn how to do that? Does marijuana even work on you?” Sam asks. “Did you learn how to do this as part of that whole Eat Pray Love thing you did while Steve and I were looking for you?”

“What? No. Steve taught me how to do this back in the thirties.”

“Excuse me, Steve Rogers taught you how to roll a joint in the thirties? Steve ‘Captain America’ Rogers knows how to roll a joint?” Sam asks, scandalized.

“Yes? I didn’t have any other friends named Steve—actually, Steve was always my only friend,” Bucky says offhandedly. “Anyway, Stevie started rolling his own asthma cigarettes when he was like twelve, had those perfect long-fingered artist hands even when he was little. Then when he started art school he started bringing home marijuana after class. He’d roll us a joint and we’d sit out on the fire escape and smoke before bed every night.”

“Steve Rogers,” Sam says, wonderingly. “What a little punk.”

“Right? I’m always saying that but no one ever believes me. Here,” Bucky says, passing the joint over to Sam. Sam hesitates for a moment—he hasn’t smoked pot since before he joined the Air Force—but then he gives a mental shrug, figuring that SHIELD probably isn’t going to drug test him. Yeah, Nick Fury is kind of a dick, but Sam doubts that he’d give a shit about a little recreational marijuana use.

Sam feels a little thrill when he raises Bucky’s joint to his lips, the paper still slightly damp from Bucky’s saliva. He seals his mouth around the end of the joint and sucks in deeply, sharing this wet vicarious kiss with Bucky, who watches Sam’s mouth with interest. Sam feels the sharp burn in his lungs as he holds in the smoke, then coughs violently when he exhales, passing the joint back to Bucky.

“Damn,” he says. “This stuff still works for you?”

“Yep,” Bucky says. “HYDRA wanted to make sure they’d still be able to drug the shit out of me when they were experimenting with their own version of the serum, so unlike some reckless assholes who actually volunteered to get the bona fide serum, I can still get stoned. Which is I guess some small consolation for spending seventy years on some pretty intense amphetamines and weird psychosis-inducing experimental drug cocktails.”

“Yikes. Well, that makes sense, I guess,” Sam says. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Bucky pauses. “Well, it’s not fine fine. But I’m fine. Now.”

“I’m glad,” Sam says, and he realizes he means it.

***

The first time Sam fucks up as Captain America, he finds out the answer to a great personal mystery: why Steve Rogers was considered “the greatest tactician in American military history.”

It’s not because Steve is actually a great tactician—in fact, Steve is an instinctive fighter, brash and brave and most of all impulsive.

Apparently, the real reason Steve was considered the greatest tactician in American military history is because Peggy Carter was the greatest tactician in American military history, and Bucky Barnes was the greatest bullshitter in American military history.

When Maria Hill orders them to Fury’s office for debriefing after that disastrous mission, Bucky grabs Sam’s arm and digs his nails into the tender skin on the underside of Sam’s forearm.

“Whatever you do, do not say anything,” Bucky hisses. “Just shut the fuck up, and let me handle this. I mean it.”

“I need to take responsibility for this, Bucky. Steve would take responsibility for this.”

“Steve would absolutely not take responsibility for this,” Bucky states firmly. “Trust me, I’ve been bailing that little punk out of trouble for one hundred years. Do not say anything.”

When they get to Fury’s office, Sam witnesses an actual miracle. Fury begins by asking them a series of terse questions in a clipped tone that slowly grows more and more agreeable as Bucky’s answers—calm, thoughtful, and pleasant—make Sam’s actions sound both necessary and entirely reasonable. The tone shifts from an interrogation to a more customary debrief, and by the end Fury’s countenance is less thunderous and more just his sort of standard expression of grim disapproval.

The truly bewildering part is that Bucky’s explanations for Sam’s behavior are so convincing that Sam himself is now questioning whether he even fucked up at all. Nothing Bucky says is a lie, and Sam’s not even sure he would characterize anything as misleading, but nevertheless Sam slowly moves from the distinct impression that both he and Fury considered the mission a failure, to the cautious notion that maybe he’d actually made the best of a bad job after all.

When Fury dismisses them, he offers them a gruff, “Excellent work, gentlemen,” and then he actually claps Sam on the shoulder as Sam walks out the door.

What the fuck.

***

“Excuse me, are you some kind of hypnotist or sorcerer?” Sam hisses when they return to their office. “What the fuck was all that?”

“Should we get Thai food for lunch? I’m thinking pad see ew,” Bucky muses, scrolling through the menu on his phone. “What about you?”

“Get me the tofu pad thai,” Sam says. It turns out Bucky wasn’t wrong about the environmental impact of animal agriculture—that’s actually some deeply sobering shit, and Sam feels like he should probably try to be a good role model now that he’s Captain America. “Seriously, though, I did fuck up that mission, right? I wasn’t imagining that?”

Bucky sighs. “Sam, you made the right call. Maybe Fury wouldn’t have agreed immediately, but I didn’t spend my entire life justifying Steve’s aggressive self-sacrificing bullshit to people in positions of authority for no reason. Steve knew when to step up and do what was right, sure, but he also knew when to shut up and let me do the talking afterward.”

Everything about Steve’s career in the Army makes so much more sense now.

“Thanks, man,” Sam says, awkwardly. He hesitates a moment, then asks, “You really think Steve would have made the same decision today?”

Bucky gives Sam a long, considering look. His gaze is solemn and sympathetic, and his lips press together in a sad smile. “Sam, you’ve got to stop comparing yourself to Steve.”

***

Sam misses a lot about Steve, but he very specifically does not miss running with Steve. That’s because Steve is an asshole, and while Sam may enjoy the view from behind when Steve laps him for the fiftieth time, he definitely does not feel like Steve deserves to act as smug about it as he does when Steve is quite famously the recipient of performance enhancing drugs.

Sam and Bucky are running their usual route in Prospect Park, feet pounding together in rhythm as they listen to the dope ass Carly Rae Jepsen playlist Bucky made for them on their headphones. It turns out that Sam’s been putting up with a lot of shit from Steve that wasn’t actually necessary, because despite being a full year older than Steve—or is it four years younger, now, after the Snap?—Bucky has managed to develop some pretty cool taste in music. More importantly, Bucky seems mercifully content to run at a speed that is completely normal for unenhanced people who are still in fantastic shape and also have great legs.

Speaking of great legs, Sam’s having kind of a hard time handling the length of Bucky’s running shorts today. Bucky’s legs are long and strong, lightly muscled and flexing attractively as his steady stride eats up the pavement, and his thighs—

“So how come Steve won’t run like a regular person?” Sam asks, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from those lean, golden thighs.

“Did he try to give you some shit about how he has to run that fast to stay in shape as a supersoldier?” scoffs Bucky. “No, Steve runs that fast because Steve has anger issues and a high sex drive. Otherwise he’d be starting fights and jerking off four times a day.”

Sam’s breath catches a bit in his chest and he tries very hard not to stumble at that. “Oh?” Sam asks, trying to sound casual. “And you? You’re not jerking off four times a day?”

“Living with you, sweetheart?” Bucky says with a wink. “Of course I am.”

***

This isn’t actually Sam’s first time living with a Russian assassin, because he spent two years on the run with Natasha, so he’s used to a lot of weird ass habits. But one thing that confounds the shit out of him is why Bucky insists on navigating Brooklyn solely through a maze of gross alleyways that smell absolutely foul.

Steve and Natasha are finally home from their peacekeeping or worldbuilding or diplomatic journey through the stars—whatever the hell they’ve been doing for the past few months—and Sam and Bucky are on their way to meet them at a café for lunch.

“Man, are you sure we’re not going in circles? I could swear we’ve passed that blue dumpster at least twice already. Is this some kind of spy thing where we’re doubling back to lose a tail or something?” Sam asks.

“No. And this blue dumpster is the blue dumpster behind the hipster café with the oat milk latte that you hate, the one with too much cinnamon,” Bucky explains patiently. “The other two blue dumpsters are behind the artisanal pickle shop and the thrift store where the secondhand clothes actually cost more than they do when you buy them new.”

“Right,” Sam says with a heavy sigh. Then he perks up when he sees their favorite stray cat. “Oh, hey, it’s Steve the cat!”

“Aw! Hi, Steve!” Bucky coos. He reaches into his pocket to toss a few treats toward the skinny, ill-tempered cat, who eyes them suspiciously before hissing viciously, his scraggly hackles raising. Steve the cat ignores their treats, presumably offended by their insulting attempts at charity, and Sam and Bucky positively melt at this pointless and self-destructive display of spitefulness.

“He’s so cute!” Bucky says.

“I love him so much,” Sam agrees. “C’mon, let’s leave the treats here and keep going. Maybe he’ll eat them after we leave.”

“We should stop at the pet store on the way home and pick up a different brand. Maybe Steve has allergies,” Bucky suggests.

“Good idea,” Sam says, nodding.

As they head toward their lunch with Steve and Natasha, Sam’s surprised to realize that he feels pretty relaxed and confident about their whole fake-best-friends plan. Usually he’d be having some kind of heart palpitations at the thought of trying to pull one over on Natasha, an actual spy who actually lied to the actual God of Lies and actually succeeded at it, but instead Sam thinks that he and Bucky might really get away with this whole fake-best-friends thing. It helps that Bucky looks so cool and self-assured walking beside him, hips loose and easy and confident as those long legs lead them toward their whole best friends debut.

Eventually they weave their way out of Bucky’s trash labyrinth and make it to the café, where Steve and Natasha are waiting at a table along the sidewalk. Steve and Nat look happy, laughing and chatting animatedly, their body language intimate and relaxed. Sam feels a brief moment of apprehension, but Steve smiles broadly when he sees Sam and Bucky approach, and Steve and Nat both stand to offer hugs and kisses in greeting.

“We’re so glad to be home,” Natasha says, sitting back down with a sigh. “Do you know that after spending the past few months trying to navigate alien bureaucracy, I’ve actually missed filling out post-mission paperwork at SHIELD? Do not repeat that to Fury.”

“Fury’s already trying to convince Natasha to train as his replacement when he retires,” Steve brags, putting his arm around Natasha’s shoulders. The flash of envy Sam feels at Steve’s obvious pride in Natasha is swiftly overwhelmed by Sam’s genuine happiness for her. He can’t think of anyone he’d trust more than Natasha to be the next Director of SHIELD. Probably she wouldn’t let in any secret Nazis or mad scientist artificial intelligences at all.

“That’s great, Natalia,” Bucky says warmly. “How soon can you start? I already hate working for Fury.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure Fury has like three decoy replacements lined up and at least another decade of weird mind games in him before he’ll seriously consider retirement,” Natasha says, nodding her head approvingly. “And to be fair to Fury, he’s probably still pretty pissed about that time you nearly killed him.”

“Actually, Fury really likes Bucky,” says Sam defensively. “Just last week Fury even thanked him for giving him the chance to fake his own death—said he’d been looking for just the right opportunity for years.”

Bucky smirks and nudges his knee against Sam’s underneath the table. Sam deliberately doesn’t move his leg away, warmth spreading through him from the point of contact.

“I feel like I should be surprised that Bucky won Fury over that quickly, but honestly it makes sense. The nuns loved Bucky,” Steve says, rolling his eyes.

“Fury does have kind of a weird nun energy, doesn’t he,” Natasha says thoughtfully. “I’ve never really thought about it before but now I’m kind of obsessed with the idea.”

When they’ve finished ordering—bacon cheeseburgers for Steve and Natasha, falafel salads for Sam and Bucky—Natasha asks them how they’re enjoying their new vegan lifestyle.

“Have you been eating a lot of aquafaba?” Natasha asks, too innocent by half.

A surge of triumph wells up in Sam’s chest. He knows that Natasha is testing them, and he knows that they’re going to pass this test.

“Aquafaba’s actually more of a baking thing, sort of an egg white replacement,” Sam explains, biting his lip to resist shooting Bucky a smug grin. “And Bucky doesn’t eat anything with added sugar, so we don’t do a whole lot of baking.”

“And since when is Bucky such a healthy eater?” Steve asks incredulously.

“Some of us got hasty Nazi knockoff serums, Steve,” Bucky replies. “I’m like a hundred years old. How do I know if I can just eat whatever I want and still have perfect blood pressure and cholesterol like you? Also, do you know how much we’ve learned about nutrition since you and I were in school? When was the last time you even got a physical, Steve? Natalia ought to be making sure you take better care of yourself. I make sure Sam exercises and eats a sensible diet.”

“I stay fit,” Sam agrees.

Bucky smirks and lets his eyes travel along Sam’s biceps and shoulders. “Yeah, you do, sweetheart.”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to get a physical, OK? But my primary care physician was taken in the Snap,” Steve says defensively. “I didn’t have time to find a new one. I’ve been very busy.”

“I’m actually finding this all very interesting,” Natasha says, her chin propped on her hand and her voice low and amused. “Has Bucky always been this fussy and meddlesome?”

“Only when it comes to my best friend,” Bucky explains with great apparent sincerity.

Steve chokes on his soda, coughing and sputtering violently, and Sam looks up from his salad to grin and catch Bucky’s eye. Natasha gives Steve a few strong thumps on the back.

When Steve recovers from his coughing fit, he narrows his eyes in disbelief. “I’m sorry, your best friend? Is Sam your best friend? Because I thought Sam was more like your best friend’s best friend.”

“We’ve gotten really close since we moved in together,” Sam says earnestly, slinging a friendly arm around Bucky’s shoulders.

It’s not even a lie, really. They’ve got a pretty great routine going, and Bucky’s an easy roommate. They wake up every morning and drag themselves out of their shared bed, sleepy and warm, and head out for an early run, letting Bucky’s bomb ass running playlist and the exertion of their run build up the physical and emotional energy they need for the day. They take Bucky’s weird secret assassin route through the alleys to and from the subway every day, and when they come home in the evenings they catch up on all the movies and music and weird political news they’ve missed in the past five years. They smoke a joint together in bed every night before they go to sleep, and they laugh and swap stories and usually make fun of Steve. It’s all very comfortable and cozy. It’s actually, Sam is startled to realize, the closest thing to home he’s felt in the past two-slash-seven years.

“So you moved in together,” Steve says, his voice awkward and high pitched. “That’s—so great!”

“Speaking of moving in together,” Bucky says innocently. “Have you guys decided where you’re going to live? We can move the weapons out of the spare room at our place if you want to move in with us.”

“I’m sorry, the spare room? It’s only a two bedroom apartment, Bucky!”

***

Sam is happy to be back in the field with Steve and Natasha, but he can’t shake the slight uneasiness that comes from thinking he’ll be able to predict their actions, that he’ll be able follow the rhythm of their fight together, only for the two of them to do something totally different than what he expects at the worst possible moment. It turns out that five years was just long enough for Steve and Natasha to fall perfectly in sync with one another and out of sync with Sam.

It’s Sam and Bucky’s first official SHIELD mission with Steve and Natasha, and everything is going mostly fine except for the fact that instead of turning into nice, clean piles of dust like in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, these gross ass vampires are exploding like giant bags of blood every time you slay them. It’s super nasty and definitely unhygienic.

The vampires are feral, mostly mindless leech-like creatures that don’t seem to have a lot going on in their probably decaying brains. So on top of dying in a rather revolting sort of fashion, they’re not even sexy or sophisticated or even European the way pop culture has promised him. The whole experience is a real letdown, and it isn’t even really dangerous so much as it is messy and tedious.

“Last one!” Bucky calls out, firing his crossbow straight into the heart of a vampire standing in front of Steve. The vampire explodes in a disgusting spray of borrowed blood, drenching Steve from head to toe in its recycled bodily fluids. Sam stifles a laugh.

“God damn it, Bucky,” Steve complains, his face twisting in distaste. “Just for that I’m taking first shower on the Quinjet.”

Sam gives Bucky a discreet fist bump when they climb aboard, whispering, “Nice shot, man.” Bucky snickers.

Steve is always so funny when he gets all prim and fussy, like some kind of stuffy Victorian schoolmarm. It’s kind of adorable.

In order to fit a full decontamination chamber and shower into the Quinjet, there’s only one of them, so they have to take turns showering. Sam and Bucky have a sort of medium amount of blood on them, while Natasha has somehow managed to escape the whole gory ordeal without a single drop of blood—or even sweat? Literally how is she so pristine?—anywhere on her. Since they’re only in New Jersey, not too far from home, Natasha decides she can wait until they get back to SHIELD headquarters to shower.

“So what’s the deal with all the vampires?” Sam asks. “I thought you and Steve killed that Bloody Baron guy.”

“We did,” Natasha replies, frowning. “It must have been a nest he left behind. Usually new vampires are too stupid or underdeveloped to feed themselves—they’re sort of like human babies that way—but I guess after their vampire dad guy died they must have gotten hungry enough to try to find something to eat on their own. I would have thought that they’d have all starved to death by now, though.”

When Steve finally exits the shower a thousand years later, he shoots them a smug smile. “Good luck fighting over who goes next, guys,” Steve taunts, in an irritating, self-satisfied sort of way. “There’s probably not enough hot water left for both of you.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Bucky says casually. “Sam and I always shower together anyway. We can share. C’mon, Sam.”

Bucky grabs Sam’s wrist and tugs him along toward the shower, and Sam uses every ounce of energy he has left in his body to keep his facial muscles firmly under control, refusing to offer any kind of reaction whatsoever to that frankly shocking claim. What the fuck, Bucky? On the plus side, though, Sam has the pleasure of watching Steve’s eyes widen and his stupid smirk fade as horror slowly sets in.

Natasha’s face, of course, lights up in surprise and then sheer fucking delight at this unexpected turn of events, because Natasha loves drama.

“What,” Steve says weakly.

“Yeah, it’s no big,” Sam says, nonchalant as hell. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Steve and Natasha whisper furiously at each other as Bucky pulls him out of the room.

When Bucky shuts the door to the decontamination chamber behind them, Sam falls back against it, running an open hand down his face and groaning. “Bucky, man, what are you doing?”

“What?” Bucky asks, eyes wide and guileless. He’s unbuckling the chest fasteners on his uniform, and Sam decides to take a moment to indulge his purely intellectual curiosity about how exactly Bucky straps himself into all that tactical fetish gear.

“Steve and I always used to take baths together,” Bucky says. “Do you know how long it took to heat up buckets full of water on the stove just to take one bath? And by the time one person was finished, the bath water would be dirty and cold! And Stevie was so little, it was just easier to bathe together so we’d both stay warm, especially in the winter—”

While Bucky prattles on about Depression-era plumbing, filthy shared tenement showers, cold water apartments, the potential dangers of cold baths for people with weak lungs, and how extremely normal it is for best friends to shower together, Sam watches Bucky methodically strip down to bare, sweaty skin.

“Do you need help, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, amusement in his voice.

“What,” Sam says absently. His eyes are intently following the path of a bead of sweat that’s sliding slowly down the hills and valleys of Bucky’s well-defined abs.

“You’re still dressed.”

“Oh! Right. Yes. I mean no! I don’t need help.”

As Bucky turns on the water and adjusts the temperature, Sam undresses hurriedly, tossing his bloody uniform into the laundry container marked “BIOHAZARD” and stepping into the shower with Bucky.

“Now, Sam, I just want to say: it’s OK if you get hard,” Bucky says sincerely, clearly trying but then utterly failing to hold back a grin. He looks directly into Sam’s eyes and claps him on the shoulder. “You know, Steve and I always—”

“Don’t say it,” Sam interrupts. “Do not say it or I will kill you, I swear to God.” Literally the last thing Sam needs, as he desperately tries to redirect the flow of blood running to his cock, is to think about Steve and Bucky showering together with erections. Jesus Christ. Sam is not made of fucking stone.

“I’m just saying, it’s perfectly normal—”

“I will kill you, Barnes,” Sam warns.

“It’s the beauty of nature!” Bucky proclaims with a shit-eating grin, then easily dodges Sam’s half-hearted blow to the face. “And if it makes you feel better, I will be making literally no effort to avoid ogling you, so.”

Sam rolls his eyes and suppresses a smile. “Whatever, man. Help me wash my back.”

***

After they shower together on the Quinjet, Bucky apparently decides that there’s no reason for them to stop showering together now that they’ve started. So every morning when they finish their run, Bucky follows Sam into the bathroom, stripping off his sweaty clothes and just stepping right into the shower, waiting for Sam to join him. And at this point it feels like maybe it would be weird if Sam said something, like maybe he should have said something the first time Bucky decided they were the kind of friends who took showers together, but quite frankly the first time Sam was so distracted by the shift and pull of Bucky’s muscles as he tugged off his shirt that Sam didn’t think to protest.

So now they shower together every morning, and they share the same body wash and shampoo too, because Bucky says that they already smell just like each other from spending so much time together that it doesn’t really make sense for them to use different products. Plus, Bucky explains, with two full grown men in the shower at the same time, there’s just not enough room to clutter up the space with a bunch of different bottles.

Sam is pretty sure that Bucky just likes it that Sam smells like him, though. Bucky’s weirdly possessive that way, and it turns out that maybe Steve is too, because every time Sam gets up close in Steve’s space during training, Steve’s nostrils flare, the briefest look of jealousy crossing his face.

So, on the plus side, their plan is definitely working.

On the down side, however, Sam has exactly zero opportunities to jerk off now, and he’s about to spontaneously fucking combust out of what is probably fatal sexual tension. Because every morning, Sam wakes up to a soft, sleepy Bucky pressed against his back, hips grinding gently against Sam’s ass. And every morning, Sam watches Bucky get sweaty and breathless on their run, thin t-shirt growing slowly more transparent, clinging to those perfectly sculpted pectoral muscles. And then, after all that, Sam has to actually get naked and shower with the guy, who is not at all shy about the way his erection springs up out of his running shorts as he pulls them down his hips.

And all of this—this whole fucking blue balls-inducing, brain-melting, sexually frustrating journey into madness—happens before Sam can even get a goddamn cup of coffee. It is eight in the fucking morning and Sam is about to die from his boner.

“Hey, Sam?” Bucky asks, giving himself a critical look in the bathroom mirror. “Can you cut my hair?”

“Do I look like a barber,” Sam replies flatly.

“No, but I feel like if we’re going to your mom’s today, I should probably look sharp, right? And I just don’t feel like the long hair goes with a suit.” Bucky frowns. “There are probably plenty of videos about hair cutting on Youtube, right? I’ll bet you could figure it out.”

Sam does not remember inviting Bucky to his mom’s house with him today, and he has no idea why Bucky is planning on wearing a suit, but he does remember how Bucky Barnes had looked in those old photos, with that classic haircut highlighting his sharp cheekbones and that perfect fucking jawline. He’d looked like an old movie actor, like Cary Grant or Gregory Peck, and Sam has always had a weakness for handsome men who look like they could take you to church and then take you straight to bed so you’ll have something to confess about next week.

“Yeah, all right,” Sam agrees.

It turns out there are actually a bunch of tutorials on how to cut hair on Youtube—apparently there was a whole thing that happened in 2020 where everyone had to cut their own hair for a while?—and after two or three videos Sam feels reasonably prepared for this potential disaster.

He sits Bucky down on a chair in the kitchen, because Bucky’s hair is thick and long, and Sam wants to make sure he can sweep everything up nice and easy when they’re done. When Sam runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair to start trimming the length, Bucky groans softly, his eyelids fluttering closed.

“Forgot how much I like having my hair touched,” Bucky murmurs.

“Oh, yeah?” Sam says, biting his lip. He wonders if Bucky also likes to have his hair pulled, and for a moment he regrets ever letting Bucky talk him into this hair cut, because he thinks he’d like to see Bucky’s long hair twisted around his fist as he guides Bucky’s mouth down onto his cock.

“I never had a professional haircut before the Army,” Bucky confesses. “My mom always cut it for me when I was a kid, and then when I moved in with Steve we’d do it for each other. We always needed money back then, couldn’t afford a barber.”

“Hold still for a moment,” Sam says, touching Bucky’s jaw and gently guiding his head into the right position. He runs the clippers over the back of Bucky’s neck, fingers pressing lightly against Bucky’s temples to move him where he needs him. Heat blooms deep in Sam’s belly at the way Bucky shivers under his touch. When Sam finishes trimming the sides and back of Bucky’s head, he leans down to softly blow the excess hair off the nape of Bucky’s neck. Bucky moans quietly, biting his lip and arching his back almost imperceptibly. Pretty little goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.

“Take a look,” Sam says quietly, handing Bucky a mirror.

Bucky turns his head left and right, preening a bit as he admires the tidy cut Sam gave him. He looks gorgeous, hair neatly trimmed in a way that draws focus to that devastating bone structure.

“Not too bad for your first try, sweetheart,” Bucky says, grinning. “Think your mom will like it?”

“Oh, I think she will.”

***

When Sam’s mom opens her door to see that Sam has brought a friend to visit, she looks delighted at this unexpected turn of events.

“Sam, baby! It’s so good to see you! Come in, come in!” she exclaims, pulling Sam in for a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek before leading them into the living room. “And who is this handsome young man?”

“This is Bucky,” Sam replies, shooting his mom a warning glare. Do not embarrass me, he communicates silently. She widens her eyes in response, giving Sam an overly innocent look and covering her heart a touch dramatically with her hands. Moi? her body language says. Sam is not fooled. “Bucky is my co-worker. And my roommate. And my friend.”

“Hello, Mrs. Wilson,” Bucky says, smiling like a goddamn choir boy. “It’s so nice to meet you. I hope you don’t mind that Sam invited me along today.”

Sam most definitely did not invite Bucky along today, but he feels like it would be rude to point that out in front of his mom, who looks very impressed by Bucky’s whole general existence. She looks even more impressed when Bucky presents her with the vase of lilacs he insisted upon buying along the way.

“These are lovely, Bucky! I’m always happy to meet one of Sam’s co-workers slash roommates slash friends,” she says teasingly. “And don’t you look nice! Sam, doesn’t he look nice?”

“You didn’t have to wear a suit to meet my mom,” Sam says with a sigh, rolling his eyes.

They already had this whole argument before they left, but Bucky was adamant about wearing the suit, and honestly Sam didn’t work that hard to try to talk him out of it. Sam didn’t even know that Bucky owned a suit, let alone one that was so perfectly tailored to those shoulders and those slim hips and those long legs. Once Bucky actually put on the suit, Sam suddenly felt like all of his objections were a bit trivial and unnecessary. So now, like an idiot, Sam is also dressed up, wearing a button-down shirt and a navy blue blazer to visit his own mother.

“It’s a Sunday, Sam,” Bucky says reprovingly, in a tone that suggests that the day of the week is somehow relevant to his sartorial choices. Sam’s mom nods approvingly at this, so maybe it’s some kind of weird older generation thing that Sam is too young to understand.

Sam feels a bit ill at the unwelcome realization that Bucky is technically older than Sam’s mother.

Sam’s mom serves them tea and cookies while they catch up, and Bucky is unfailingly polite, charming in a sincere sort of way that Sam should have expected from all of Steve’s stories about growing up together in the neighborhood. It occurs to Sam that Bucky probably developed this skill as a self-defense mechanism against the inevitable havoc that Steve wreaked in their lives, using it to keep the two of them out of trouble with mothers and teachers and, eventually, commanding officers.

When the subject of Captain America comes up, Sam’s mother frowns disapprovingly and says, “I just don’t know why that boy asked you to take on this kind of burden. Is he even retired? Why couldn’t he be Captain America?”

Sam’s mother always refers to Steve as that boy.

“That’s what I said!” Bucky exclaims. “I was furious when Steve said he wanted to pass the shield on to Sam. Why did Sam need to be Captain America? Sam was already a superhero. I mean, he was the Falcon! He could actually fly. How cool is that? Steve could never fly—Steve just fell, usually without a parachute. Being Captain America just meant doing the same thing Sam was already doing, but with an unfamiliar weapon and a lot more attention from bad guys. It seemed so risky and unnecessary.”

Sam is a little stunned at this revelation. He thought the reason Bucky was mad at Steve about the whole Captain America thing was because Steve hadn’t chosen him to be Captain America, not because Bucky was worried about Sam.

Sam’s heart thumps a bit in his chest, warmth flowing through his veins to thaw out a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been just a tiny bit frozen, an icy chunk he’s been carrying around inside of him ever since he’d accepted Steve’s offer to be the new Captain America. Bucky looks soft and sincere, and Sam didn’t know how much he needed to hear that someone believed in him just as he was—that there was someone who didn’t just think that he’d make a good Captain America but that he was already a pretty great superhero all on his own.

Sam’s mom nods enthusiastically. “Exactly,” she says, then turns to Sam. “I like this one, Sam. He seems so much more sensible than that other boy. That one was always getting you into trouble.”

Bucky chuckles. “Oh, Steve is good at getting people into trouble. But the thing about Steve is that Steve attracts people who are just like him, people who are good and brave and ready to stand up for what’s right no matter what the cost. Sam was fighting for what he believed in long before Steve ever came along. You raised a good man, Mrs. Wilson,” Bucky says, smiling softly at Sam.

And Sam’s heart breaks a little in his chest at this, because he doesn’t think that Bucky realizes that Bucky is the very first person Steve attracted who shared his innate goodness and integrity, because Bucky doesn’t think he’s a hero like Steve and Sam.

Sam’s mom is clearly pleased by Bucky’s compliment, and she looks proudly over at Sam. “Sam is the best man I know,” she says, her voice strong, full of conviction. “I’m glad he has a partner who understands that his heart is just as valuable as his training.”

“Sam’s heart is exactly why Steve chose him as Captain America,” Bucky says. And then he tells her stories about Sam’s new job, stories that are carefully edited to minimize the danger they had faced and to maximize Sam’s capability and competence in dispatching various minor villains. He tells her about all of the countries they’ve traveled to, all the little boys and girls who’ve looked at Sam with stars in their eyes. Bucky makes sure to include Steve in these stories too, subtly but effectively touting Steve’s unflagging loyalty and care and dependability.

Sam remembers Steve telling him that Bucky was the first to shout “Let’s hear it for Captain America!” when they returned from Kreischberg, successfully distracting Colonel Phillips from any disciplinary action he might have been contemplating against Steve for going MIA. It’s hard to throw the book at someone who’s actively being celebrated by hundreds of grateful, cheering soldiers.

Bucky, Sam is beginning to realize, is the greatest hype man Sam has ever seen.

“Thank you so much for a lovely afternoon, Mrs. Wilson,” Bucky says with a kind smile. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“Come back next weekend!” Sam’s mom replies enthusiastically, giving Bucky a warm hug. “You can meet Sam’s sister Sarah and his niece Michelle. They’ll be sorry they missed you this week. Sam, dear, come give your mother a hug.”

When Sam pulls his mother in for a hug, she whispers, “I’m so proud of you” in his ear. Sam flushes a bit, feeling awkward and self-conscious.

“Thanks, Mom,” he says.

***

That night when they’re lying in bed, passing a joint back and forth, Sam makes a long overdue confession.

“I was mad at you, you know,” Sam says apologetically. “When you ran away. And when you didn’t come back after Peggy died. I thought you weren’t being a good friend to Steve. I don’t think—I don’t think I was being very fair to you. And I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Steve had told Sam a lot of stories about Bucky, about how charming and funny Bucky was, what a good friend he was, what a good sergeant he was. In Steve’s stories, Bucky was a giant, a larger-than-life sort of figure, a man who never gave up and never let anyone down.

And maybe Sam bought into all of that mythologizing, because when Bucky didn’t come back to Steve, Sam felt betrayed on Steve’s behalf. And he realizes now, with a sharp pang of regret, that this reaction was deeply unfair to Bucky, based on the legend of Bucky Barnes rather than the man. Because Bucky was supposed to be the loyal Howling Commando from Steve’s stories, Captain America’s Sergeant and Steve Rogers’s Best Friend, the hero who always rescued Steve when he needed it, even when Steve didn’t think he needed rescuing.

And Steve had so desperately, desperately needed rescuing, especially after Peggy’s death. Sam would never forget the sight of Steve Rogers, Captain America, tired and small and so very fragile, dipping under the weight of Peggy’s coffin as he carried her down the aisle.

When Bucky turns to face Sam, there are lines of grief in the corners of his eyes. “I was sorry about Peggy,” Bucky says quietly. “She was my friend too.”

Sam reaches out to brush his thumb along Bucky’s cheekbone, cupping Bucky’s face in his hand. Bucky raises his hand to cover Sam’s, cool metal against Sam’s skin, and Bucky shivers a little under his touch.

“You’re a good friend, Bucky. I’m sorry I thought you weren’t.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Bucky says with a tired smile.

***

When Steve knocks on their open office door, he looks with surprise at the sign on the doorway. “Sam Wilson and James Barnes?” Steve reads aloud, looking concerned. “Sam, they didn’t give you your own office? I feel like Captain America should get his own office. Do you want me to talk to Fury? Because you shouldn’t have to share with Bucky.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Sam says casually. “Fury gave us two offices, but we just figured it was easier to share since we’re always together anyway. Bucky’s office is our murder board room.”

Steve looks disconcerted by this. “OK,” he says, frowning. “Well, I just came by to let you know that Nat picked up another HYDRA facility on her radar, right near where we found those vampires in New Jersey. She sent you an e-mail with the details.”

Sam doesn’t know why Steve needs to stop by to tell him something that Natasha already sent him in an e-mail, but whatever. There’s something a little bit hesitant in Steve’s expression, a little bit lonely, and maybe Steve just came by because he wanted an excuse to see them.

“Thanks,” Sam says, with a warm smile. “C’mon, let’s go over to the spare office to tell Bucky to put it on our murder board. Make sure you tell him how great it looks, by the way. We spent like thirty minutes at Joann Fabrics picking out just the right shades of yarn to tie everything together. He actually has a whole color-coded system for it, with a key in an Excel spreadsheet and everything.”

While they walk down to go see the murder board, Steve tells Sam all about Bucky’s job as an actuary before the war. Apparently all those years doing informal risk assessment calculations to try to keep Steve from killing himself while they were growing up led to an actual career. “He was actually in college for mathematics when he dropped out to enlist.”

“I wonder if he put that on his resume when he applied for the job,” Sam says. “Actually now that I’m thinking about it I wonder how Bucky fit like 80 years of experience as an actuary, a commando, a brainwashed assassin, an international fugitive, and then a goat farmer on a one-page resume.”

“Wait, Fury actually made you two submit resumes?” Steve raises his eyebrows.

“Nah, just Bucky,” Sam replies, grinning. “I think Fury just wanted to give him a bit of a hard time after he shot him. Bucky actually wrote one up for him too. Wouldn’t let me see it, but if Natasha just so happens to find it anywhere on SHIELD’s servers at some point…”

“I’ll let you know,” Steve says, chuckling.

When they get to the spare office and see Bucky tacking up some new papers on the vampire murder board, Steve’s laughter catches abruptly in his throat. Bucky’s newly short hair is styled today in an appealing combination of his old, neatly parted look and a more modern fashion.

“Bucky?” Steve says breathlessly, his voice thick with emotion.

“Oh, hey, Steve,” Bucky replies awkwardly, raising his hand to his newly cut hair a bit self-consciously. “How does it look?”

“Great!” Steve says fervently, eyes shining. “You look—God, you look so great, Bucky.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says, biting his lip shyly. “Sam cut it for me. Had to look respectable if I was going to meet his mom.”

Steve looks unexpectedly stricken for a moment, but then recovers quickly. “Well, it looks great,” he says. “And you met Sam’s mom! That’s—great. That’s also great.”

“She loved him, of course,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “He wore a suit. And he brought her flowers.”

“Bucky always did bring my mom a flower when he came to visit, even if he had to steal it from someone else,” Steve says wistfully. “That’s—that’s so great that he still does that.” Steve looks dreadfully, deeply jealous right now, although Sam honestly can’t tell if Steve is jealous of him, jealous of Bucky, or jealous of Sam’s mom. Probably a weird combination of all three.

“Well, it turns out Bucky is great with moms. Even put in a good word for your sorry ass while he was there,” Sam says cheerfully.

“Wow! Good! That’s—that’s so good,” Steve says, his voice a little weak now. “Wait, does your mom not like me? Actually never mind. We can talk about it later. I’ll just—I’ll just be going now. I can see that you two have a lot of work to do, so I’ll just—go.”

When Steve leaves, Bucky raises an eyebrow at Sam. “You think maybe the whole make-Steve-jealous plan is actually working?” Bucky says wryly, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a crooked smile.

Sam stifles a laugh. “Yeah, just a bit.”

***

Sam and Bucky are just getting out of the shower after their run on Saturday when they hear an unexpected knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Sam says, pulling on a t-shirt and a hoodie. Bucky’s still standing in front of the closet, clad only in a gratifyingly small towel as he takes his time deciding what to wear today.

When Sam gets to the door and opens it, he’s surprised to find Steve and Natasha standing in front of him. Steve looks a bit sheepish, but Natasha appears utterly relaxed, at ease in the way that she always is no matter what’s going on or how weird Steve is.

“Surprise!” Steve says awkwardly. He raises his hands briefly like he might be attempting some sort of jazz hands or something, then clearly thinks better of it and sticks his hands in his pockets where they can’t get him into trouble. “We’re here to take you guys out!”

“Sam, sweetheart, where’s our blue sweater?” Bucky calls out from the bedroom.

“Sweetheart?” Steve repeats thinly.

“Our blue sweater?” Natasha repeats gleefully.

Bucky emerges from the bedroom, hands smoothing out a few wrinkles in the aforementioned sweater as he tugs it into place. “Never mind, I found it,” Bucky announces. “Hey, guys.”

“Well, hello, Bucky. So you two share clothes now,” Natasha observes, the corner of her mouth curving blithely upward. “Isn’t that interesting?”

What’s particularly interesting, Sam thinks, is that he is ninety-nine percent certain that he saw Steve wearing that same white t-shirt Natasha has tied neatly at her waist just the other day.

“Of course we share clothes. Why would Sam and I need separate clothes? We wear basically the same size, even if Sam’s shoulders are a bit nicer than mine,” Bucky says, winking at Sam.

“Your waist is trimmer, though. You’ve got that nice lean look going on, it’s really working for you.”

“OK!” Steve interrupts, sounding a bit frantic. He and Natasha trade a few weird, indecipherable looks back and forth and Natasha rolls her eyes. “So we were thinking we would take you guys out this morning, have some best friend time.” Steve says this last part with particular emphasis.

“Great, where are we going?” Bucky asks.

“Actually,” Steve says, “we were thinking about splitting up. Sam, how do you feel about going to a ball game with me?”

“Sure,” Sam says, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “What are Natasha and Bucky going to do?”

Natasha and Bucky have a brief conversation in Russian, gesturing back and forth a bit before Natasha flatly states, “Bucky and I are gonna go to yoga and then get mani pedis.”

“OK,” Sam says, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. Honestly he probably doesn’t want to know whatever it is they’re really planning to do, if only for the sake of plausible deniability. Sam wonders if he and Bucky should think about getting married at some point so they don’t ever have to testify against each other. He should bring it up later, probably not in front of Steve.

***

Steve and Sam are sitting in the sun, relaxing at a Mets game, and Sam has missed this so much. It’s spring, still a bit chilly, but the sun is out and the day’s warming up quickly. Steve looks happy and relaxed, golden hair shining in the sunlight and a little bit of pink on his cheeks and forehead that will fade away before they’re even home from the game tonight.

“So you and Bucky are getting along well,” Steve says, glancing at Sam out of the corner of his eyes.

Sam hums noncommittally, taking a sip of his water. He’d checked the app on his phone to see if any of the beers they had on tap were vegan, but unfortunately none of them were. Which is fine, really, because Bucky’s been nagging him to drink more water lately. In fact Bucky’ll probably ask Sam about it when he gets home, so now Sam will be able to tell Bucky yes, he had a bottle of water today, he’s staying hydrated.

“You don’t think Bucky’s a bit—much?” Steve asks uncertainly. “Some people used to think he was a bit overbearing.”

“Nah, he’s cool,” Sam says mildly, then hesitates. “But, well, he doesn’t have much use for privacy, does he? I mean, he’s always so—around. And so attractive! And sometimes a man needs some time to himself, for personal, intimate things. You know what I’m saying?”

“You’re dying of sexual frustration, aren’t you.” Steve smirks, with a knowing little glint in his eye.

“God, yes.”

“Old Bucky Barnacle. So that’s still his move, huh?” Steve says, his voice wry. “Well, good luck with that. If history repeats itself, I’m sure the situation will eventually come to a head one way or another.”

Sam doesn’t know what to do with that ominous remark, but since it’s such a nice day he decides to let it slide.

“Bucky did say something to me once, kind of struck me as odd. He said that you were his only friend growing up. Which—that’s not true, right? I mean, he’s so handsome and charming and—surprisingly sweet. I feel like a guy like that would have a lot of friends.”

Steve laughs ruefully. “You’d think so, right? But Bucky never really seemed to want other friends, and honestly a lot of people thought there was something a bit—funny, about him. And about me.”

“Funny like maybe you two were a little too close?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “Yeah, maybe,” he admits. “We were always together. God, Bucky used to get so jealous when I’d make other friends. But he loved me, wanted me to be happy. I think he was happiest when we were a part of the Howling Commandos. He just wanted me to be around people who valued me and appreciated me, I think.”

“He liked Peggy a lot,” Sam says mildly, carefully.

“He talked to you about Peggy?” Steve’s eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“We talk,” Sam says, careful to keep his tone guarded. Sam doesn’t know how much Steve and Bucky have really had a chance to connect after Bucky came back from Wakanda, doesn’t know how much Bucky is comfortable with Sam revealing. He gets the feeling that Steve and Bucky have been dancing around a lot of things for about eighty-five years now. “He likes Natasha too.”

“Does he,” Steve says, with a small, speculative smile.

***

They’re sitting on the sofa, catching up on Riverdale, and Sam can’t believe how much better the show has gotten since the Decimation forced them to write out Archie Andrews. They’ve just finished the episode where Betty Cooper reveals that the murdered Jason Blossom was actually just a clone of the real Jason Blossom—who apparently was in the witness protection program the whole time—when Bucky suddenly announces, “I think we should practice kissing.”

“Yes, absolutely, one hundred percent,” Sam agrees immediately, then pauses. “Wait, why?”

“Well, Steve and I used to practice kissing all the time, so it’s obviously a pretty normal best friend thing to do,” Bucky reasons, gazing earnestly at Sam with wide, too-innocent eyes. “I feel like it would be suspicious if Steve found out I haven’t kissed anyone in almost eighty years and my so-called best friend didn’t help me get back into practice.”

Then Bucky pulls his right arm across his chest, casually stretching the strong muscle in his shoulder, the thin material of his t-shirt straining over his firm bicep. And wow, Bucky really should have been a lawyer or a politician or something, because Sam always finds his arguments extremely convincing. He’s honestly the most persuasive guy Sam has ever met.

“Yeah, OK,” Sam says. “C’mere.”

Bucky leans toward him, hand coming up to touch Sam’s face gently. Bucky’s so close that Sam can feel Bucky’s soft breath against his mouth, and Sam leans forward to rest his forehead against Bucky’s.

“OK?” Bucky murmurs.

Sam hums in response, leaning forward to touch his lips softly to Bucky’s. Bucky’s hand trembles a little on Sam’s face, nerves or anticipation, but then Bucky’s grip tightens and he pulls Sam closer, opening his mouth to capture Sam’s lips between his.

The kiss starts out soft and sweet, tentative, and then slowly grows more passionate. Sam gasps when Bucky’s teeth pull gently at his bottom lip, tugging his mouth open so Bucky can slip his tongue inside. Sam moans and strokes his tongue against Bucky’s, heating burning through his veins as their tongues slide wetly against each other. Sam can feel Bucky’s heart beating right against his own, through their shirts and their skin and their sternums, a pounding, frantic rhythm that matches the pulse of blood traveling directly to Sam’s cock.

Sam tangles his fingers in Bucky’s hair, gripping the short strands in his fist and tugging gently, pulling Bucky’s head right where he needs him. Bucky pitches forward a bit, off-balance, bracing his hands on Sam’s thighs before climbing eagerly up onto Sam’s lap. Bucky is making sweet, urgent little sounds that send a shiver of want down Sam’s spine, and Sam has to pull back for a moment, take a minute to breathe and let his racing heart settle in his chest.

“Sam,” Bucky says, pupils dilated and dark. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” Sam breathes, panting and fighting to keep his hips still, trying to keep from shifting them up against Bucky’s. “That was—.”

“Good?” Bucky asks, lips curving into a crooked, cocky grin.

“It was all right,” Sam replies casually, feigning nonchalance. “I think you still need more practice. C’mere.”

***

They practice kissing a lot after that, which is great, and also lucky, because when Bucky hisses “kiss me” to Sam in the middle of a HYDRA raid, Sam doesn’t even hesitate.

They’re sneaking into that New Jersey HYDRA facility Natasha found near the gross vampire lair, and Steve and Nat are breaking into one end of the facility while Sam and Bucky creep through the other. They’re trying to be quiet, don’t want to be caught before Steve and Natasha have a chance to get the data off HYDRA’s servers, so when a HYDRA goon stumbles into the hallway with them, Bucky hauls Sam right up against him and kisses him fiercely.

The HYDRA goon makes a noise of surprise and confusion, clearly baffled by the two heavily armed men making out in the middle of a research facility, but Sam’s having a hard time paying attention to him over the feel of Bucky’s lips, which are spit-slick and firm and insistent against Sam’s. When Bucky starts grinding his hips against him—wow, Bucky is really selling this—Sam lets out a low moan that Steve and Natasha will almost certainly hear over the comms.

“What’s going on here? You’re not supposed to be here!” the goon says.

Bucky releases Sam’s lower lip from between his teeth with a loud pop. “Huh? Oh, sorry, guess we got carried away,” Bucky says sheepishly.

“That’s OK, just—hey, wait! You’re the Winter Soldier!” the goon exclaims, apparently catching sight of Bucky’s metal arm.

Steve and Natasha burst into the hallway at that moment, and when the goon turns back around to face them Sam pulls his shield from its harness and throws it at the man, who falls to the floor like a sack of bricks. Sam catches the rebound.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Bucky says with a grin, casually reaching down to readjust the lines of his uniform from where Sam’s fists had wrinkled it during their makeout session. “You didn’t have to come help out. We had everything under control here.”

“Had everything under control here,” Steve repeats. “We saw you on the security cams necking right in front of a guard!”

“Well, sure, but the guy caught us red-handed sneaking down the corridors. Thank God Bucky’s such a quick thinker or that guard would have thought something was suspicious going on,” Sam says, shooting Bucky a grateful smile. Bucky grins back at him. “Using the old pretend-to-be-a-couple-making-out scam was a great call.”

“A great call?” Natasha says, raising her eyebrows. “You’re dressed as Captain America and the Winter Soldier and you’re right in the middle of their facility. In what way did you appear to be two passionate lovers out for an innocent stroll?”

“To be fair, that guard would have no idea if Captain America and the Winter Soldier had a more than professional relationship,” Bucky points out.

“And are you questioning Bucky’s professional judgment as a master of covert operations, Natasha?” Sam says reproachfully, shaking his head in disappointment. “Bucky was a ghost for over fifty years. I think the man knows how to keep from blowing a cover.”

Steve sighs heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Look, let’s just do a quick sweep through the basement, OK? It’s the only place left that we haven’t checked out.”

When they make it down to the basement, Sam is surprised to find that the whole thing has a very distinct incel-with-a-sex-dungeon vibe to it. Which is not really an aesthetic that he thought HYDRA would be embracing, but he’s learned to roll with it when it comes to the weird shit that HYDRA gets up to. The room looks moldy and kind of wet, with a clammy cement wall that has an actual, albeit cheap-looking, coffin propped up against it, right next to some rusted metal chains that look like a serious tetanus hazard. There’s also a microwave and a pretty expensive gaming PC down here, screen turned on to one of those gryphons and gargoyles MMORPGs.

“Is someone living down here?” Bucky asks, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Or, even worse, is someone living in that coffin?”

There’s only one way to find out. Steve walks over to the coffin and yanks it open, jumping back in horror when a man wearing a neck brace and plastic fangs pops out and cries, “Steve! I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist coming back for me and my vampire babies. And you’ve found my new dungeon!”

His creepy red eyes are on fire with ecstasy.

“Ew, it’s Todd,” Bucky says, making a sour face. “I thought you killed that guy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve says with a frown.

“My name isn’t Todd,” Todd says peevishly. “It’s Baron Blood. How would you like it if everyone called you Bucky instead of the Winter Soldier?”

“Everyone does call me Bucky.”

When Todd has the nerve to look judgmental at this, Sam narrows his eyes and snaps, “Bucky is a great nickname.”

“It’s very cute,” Natasha agrees.

“I gave it to him,” Steve says, nodding proudly.

“Did you,” Todd says, eyes widening in alarm. “I didn’t mean to imply that Bucky was a bad nickname! Not at all! In fact, I love it. I was just—pointing out that it might be a tad unprofessional to use someone’s regular name in this kind of formal confrontation between a superhero and his archnemesis. I mean, this is really more like a work meeting, so I think it’s best if we just stick to titles, right, Captain America?”

“You called him Steve, earlier,” Natasha says.

“Well, the relationship between a superhero and his archnemesis really is such an intimate connection,” Todd purrs.

“Gross,” Bucky says.

“Anyway,” Steve says loudly, “Sam is Captain America now, I’m just a regular SHIELD agent. And I’m actually kind of in between call signs right now, so you can just—just call me Steve, I guess.” Steve looks a bit queasy at this.

“Wonderful, Steve,” Todd says smugly, his smile sharp and unnerving underneath those plastic fangs. Then he turns to Sam, looking him critically up and down before disdainfully stating, “I certainly won’t be calling him Captain America, though.”

“Why not? That’s pretty rude, Todd. We’re having a work meeting.” Natasha’s tone is disapproving.

“Well, for one, I’m racist,” Todd explains. “But also there will only ever be one Captain America, and that’s Steve Rogers. This guy’s just the Falcon.”

He says it scornfully, and Sam honestly might have felt a little insulted, but instead he remembers what Bucky said to his mother, that the Falcon was cool, that he could fly, that Sam was a superhero before he ever met Steve Rogers. And so Sam stands tall, raises his head high, and does his fucking job because he is a hero and a professional.

“Whatever, Todd,” Sam says. “I’m going to have to arrest you now.”

Unfortunately, Todd chooses this moment to reveal that he has the ability to transform into a swarm of bats, each of them wearing a tiny neck brace and plastic fangs as they form a small cluster and fly right out of the room and presumably away into the night.

Sam sighs in frustration. “You’re out there somewhere, Blood Baron, and I’ll find you!” he calls out after Todd.

“No, you won’t!” Todd shouts from a distance.

Sam puts his hands on his hips and narrows his eyes. “Yes, I will.”

“Nope!”

Bucky looks around the room, sighing in disgust as he takes in the mess and chaos from dozens of vampire bats flying about, leaving bat fur and guano everywhere.

“Great, now we’re all going to have to get rabies shots,” Bucky complains.

 ***

Sam and Bucky’s whole fake-best-friends plan is working phenomenally well, because ever since that Saturday Steve and Natasha had showed up unexpectedly to take them out, they’ve been regularly scheduling what Steve insists upon calling “best friend dates.” So long as they’re all in the same city, every Saturday they get together in pairs or as a foursome so that no one ever feels left out and everybody gets some quality time with each other.

When Steve and Sam hang out, they usually go to a game or to the gym—not to do any serious training, just to spar, getting sweaty and screwing around trying out new moves on each other. The best part is that for whatever reason the other SHIELD agents seem super reluctant to work out at the same time as them, so Sam and Steve always have plenty of room to wrestle and grapple around on the mats, pinning and taunting each other until someone gets frustrated enough to really slam the other one around a bit.

Sam has no idea what Bucky and Natasha do on their mysterious outings—they claim they’re going to drag brunches or yoga or spin class, but Sam can only guess what kind of sketchy shit a pair of formerly Russian former assassins might get up to together. Thankfully they’re always careful to mastermind their operations in Russian, presumably so that Sam will never be forced to reveal anything incriminating about them if he’s questioned. Bucky takes care of him like that.

Sam’s dates with Natasha are always super weird and fun—they usually end up going to see some kind of crazy conceptual art exhibit or avant-garde foreign film, then get coffee afterward and pretend to be fancy art critics. Or they’ll wander around old flea markets and antique stores and look for insensitive gifts for Steve and Bucky.

Sam is pretty sure that Steve spends his dates with Bucky doing something really homoerotic and intense like drawing semi-nude portraits of Bucky in 1940s military uniforms.

Actually, if they’re not already doing that, Sam should suggest it. He could probably try to pass it off as “healing” or “cathartic” or something, and maybe Steve will even show him the drawings afterward now that Sam has so much experience critiquing art with Natasha.

Today Sam and Natasha had planned on going to an outdoor art fair for their best friend date, because it’s funny to buy Steve tacky cat art and then watch him fumble for an appropriately gracious response, but this morning dawned with the sound of thunder rumbling ominously in the distance. By noon it’s pouring rain, a thick wall of icy water erupting from angry gray clouds, and Natasha is soaking wet when Sam answers the door.

“Jesus, Nat!” Sam says, ushering her into the apartment. “Let me grab you a towel for your hair. Do you want a change of clothes?”

“Sure, but don’t worry about the towel,” Natasha says with a careless wave of her hand. She opens the duffel bag she’s brought with her to reveal a barber’s cape and a pair of shears. “You’re going to cut my hair!”

“Oh, I’m going to cut your hair,” Sam grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m a barber?”

Sam leads Natasha into the kitchen and pulls out a chair for her before heading into the bedroom to try to find a pair of sweats that might fit. Natasha’s tiny, petite even when she wears heels, and it’s easy to forget that about her when she always stands so tall and confident. Sam wonders sometimes if that’s how Steve looked before he got the serum, all tiny and full of courage and swagger. Sam definitely does not think about how he and Bucky might have a type, and instead he grabs a t-shirt and the smallest pair of joggers they own, the ones that pull nice and tight over Bucky’s thighs and ass, before heading back into the kitchen.

Instead of waiting in the chair, Natasha’s standing in the nude, unselfconscious, wringing her clothes out over the sink. Her skin is pale and damp, glistening even in the dim, stormy light of the kitchen. Sam swallows and allows his eyes to trace the path of a drop of water sliding down the side of her neck only until it hits her collarbone, then looks away.

Sam clears his throat and tosses her the bundle of clothes. “Here, put these on,” he says, keeping his gaze averted while he grabs her wet clothes out of the sink. “I’ll put yours in the dryer.”

“Leave the bra out! If you put it in the dryer you’ll ruin it!” Natasha calls after him.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I have a sister, you know!”

Sam hangs Natasha’s bra up above the dryer, and damn, he can see why she doesn’t want him to ruin it. It’s gorgeous, black and lacy and expensive-looking—sexier than the three no-nonsense cotton bras that Natasha rotated between during those two years on the run. Sam smiles as he fingers the lace along the band, a gentle wave of happiness cresting over him at the thought of Natasha finally allowing herself to wear something beautiful.

When Sam returns to the kitchen, Natasha’s dressed, cozy and comfortable in Sam’s favorite t-shirt, joggers rolled up around her waist in an attempt to keep them from hanging onto the floor. Sam tries very hard not to feel any sort of way about how Natasha looks in Sam and Bucky’s clothing.

“So what am I doing here?” Sam asks. He flicks on the light and wraps the barber’s cape around Natasha, snapping it carefully at the back of her neck. Natasha’s hair is already damp, and Sam combs it straight, parting it just above her left eyebrow the way she likes. He’s lost track of the number of times he’s watched her straighten and style her hair this way over the years. “Do you want to keep any of the blonde?”

Natasha shrugs. “Nope, just lop it all off.”

“You’re lucky Bucky’s hair was long enough that I had to watch a bunch of videos on how to cut women’s hair too,” Sam says. He uses the comb to pull her hair taut and then trims off the bleached ends. “Actually, you’re lucky you’re beautiful enough that you can pull off an at-home hair cut from a dude with exactly one professional reference.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and reaches back to pinch Sam’s leg in response.

“Careful!” Sam warns, jerking back to dodge her unnecessarily strong fingers. “If I slip with these scissors, you’re gonna end up with the same haircut I gave Bucky. Do you want to be matching Russian murder twins? Steve and I won’t even be able to tell you two apart anymore.”

Natasha gives him a sly look from beneath her lashes. “Are you saying you and Steve would mind if Bucky and I switched places on you once in a while?”

Sam bites the inside of his cheek and ignores the massive trap Natasha has laid for him, all giant wooden spikes sticking out of a hole in the ground that Natasha’s barely even bothered to camouflage with leaves.

“You and Steve are nasty,” Sam says. “Don’t get me and Bucky involved in your business.”

“Sam,” Natasha teases in a sing-song voice.

Sam ignores her and focuses on trimming her hair, watching the blonde strands drift down to the tile floor. The kitchen is silent around them, quiet enough that Sam can hear the hum of the refrigerator over the soft sounds of the rain pitter-pattering outside, finally beginning to slow.

“Sam, ” Natasha says.

“I’m almost done,” Sam interrupts. He trims one last stray hair that’s escaped from the rest. “You like it just below your shoulders here? If you part it in the middle you’ll look just like you did when I met you.”

“Sam—”

“Here, take a look,” Sam says, handing over the mirror.

He unsnaps Natasha’s cape and busies himself with cleaning up, bringing Natasha’s scissors over to the sink to wash them. Sam soaps up the scissors and watches the storm move off into the distance through the kitchen window. There’s a ray of sunshine peeking through the clouds off to the west, just beginning to hint at the promise of a pretty day ahead.

When he’s done cleaning the scissors, he turns back to face Natasha and catches her smiling at herself in the mirror. “Sam!” she says, her eyes bright and sparkling. “I do look just like I did when you met me.”

“Yeah, Nat, you do,” Sam says with a fond smile, tugging on a lock of Natasha’s hair. “You look just like yourself again.”

The corner of Natasha’s lips tugs up in a wicked grin. “You think I’ve still got what it takes to bring down an entire secret government agency?”

“Nat, you don’t need to bring down an entire secret government agency. You’re gonna run one someday.”

***

The next Saturday Sam and Bucky are making their way through the alleys of Brooklyn on their way to lunch with Steve and Nat, and Sam can’t honestly say that the smell of dumpsters is really doing a lot for his appetite. He’s hopeful that they might run into Steve the cat, but otherwise it would really be nice to just go the regular way for once.

“Man, I don’t think we’re being followed,” Sam says. “Do we really have to go through the whole trash maze today? Can’t we just walk on the streets like regular people?”

Bucky looks concerned. “Wait, what do you mean being followed? Do you think we’re being followed?” Bucky’s spine stiffens and he looks alert, eyes darting back and forth to check the alley entrances for suspicious characters.

“No? But isn’t that why we walk through all these alleys every time we go somewhere?”

Bucky looks shifty for a moment, then embarrassed. “No? It’s really more like—OK, so the truth is—I don’t actually know my way around Brooklyn through the streets,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry, you just said what now,” Sam says flatly. “Bucky, you grew up here.”

“I know, OK?” Bucky lifts his arm to scratch the back of his neck self-consciously. “But do you know how many fights Steve got into in these alleys? We didn’t have cell phones back then, Sam! The only way to make sure Steve was safe was just to take the alleys everywhere and hope I’d run across him before he got himself killed.”

“Oh my God, you really are the world’s best best friend,” Sam marvels. “No wonder Steve wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes and trying to hide a pleased grin. “All right, sweetheart, show me how to get there the fancy way. Lead on.”

So Sam leads Bucky out of his weird little warren full of dumpsters and feral cats and into the sunny streets of Brooklyn. Their shoulders and hands bump a bit as they walk along, and Sam’s heart beats a little faster when Bucky briefly tangles their pinky fingers together and gives him a little squeeze.

When they get to the restaurant they find Steve and Nat sitting close together, grinning and laughing and looking fondly at one another, and Sam is surprised to find that he doesn’t feel even the slightest burn of envy at their casual display of intimacy. Instead his heart swells with affection for them, his best friends, and Sam feels thankful that whatever trauma and heartache they’ve suffered over the last five years, at least they’ve finally learned how to express all those emotions they’d been keeping locked so tightly inside of them.

Steve and Nat seem lighter, happier, quicker to offer smiles and physical affection and verbal assurances of love. It’s kind of sweet really, Sam thinks.

Steve and Natasha look happy when they see Sam and Bucky arrive, standing up to give them big hugs and quick kisses on the cheek or the lips. The four of them chat for a while about what else Sam and Bucky have missed over the last five years—they’re still catching up, working their way now through the four legendary albums Taylor Swift released after her boyfriend was lost in the Decimation. She dropped all four albums at the same time, received massive public and critical acclaim, then disappeared for the next four years. Sam is profoundly unsurprised by the revelation that he and Bucky share an appreciation for hot, artistic blonds.

When the subject turns to work and thus to Todd, Sam groans. “So what’s the deal with that guy anyway? I thought you literally beheaded him.”

“I did,” Steve says with a grimace. “But he had that whole neck brace situation going on? So I guess he’s using it to just sort of—hold everything together.” Steve looks a little nauseated at the idea.

“Todd is so gross,” Bucky complains.

“You soaked the shield in holy water blessed by the pope, though, right?” Sam asks, frowning. “Todd’s Catholic, so it should have worked.”

“We did,” Natasha confirms. “Steve took a trip to Rome and went to a special mass and everything.”

Steve turns to Bucky, looking displeased. “Oh! Did you know that they do the mass with the priest facing you now? So now he can see if you’re goofing off in church. And they don’t do it in Latin anymore, so they expect you to actually listen too.”

“Remember when Father O’Connell caught us sneaking comic books into our hymnals and Ma wouldn’t let me see you for a month?” Bucky says, shaking his head and letting out a low whistle. “She always did think you were a bad influence.”

“I honestly thought you were going to die every single night when you snuck up that death trap of a fire escape to my bedroom in the pitch darkness.”

“Well, c’mon, like I was really going to go an entire month without seeing my best friend?” Bucky says, scoffing. “Plus that was like the same month we discovered masturbation so forgive me for being willing to risk death to come see you every night.”

Natasha snorts a little at that, and Sam makes sure to look directly in front of him at Steve so that he does not catch Natasha’s eye.

“Anyway,” Natasha says loudly, clearing her throat. “I think our mistake was in getting holy water blessed by the wrong pope.”

“The wrong pope?” Bucky lifts an eyebrow. “There’s only one pope, Natalia.”

“Not anymore!” Natasha says cheerfully. “After the Snap, there was a huge schism in the Catholic Church between the ‘faithful’ and a group of people who thought that what we actually experienced was the Rapture. There was this whole conspiracy theory that the old pope and a group of cardinals—who were all taken in the Decimation—deliberately suppressed information about the Rapture because it conflicted with Catholic teachings. So the remaining ‘faithful’ cardinals elected one pope, but then another group of cardinals broke off and elected a different pope.”

“What,” Sam says.

“Yup!” Natasha says, eyes alight with amusement. “So the schismatics moved their Holy See back to Avignon in France, but before they did, they—get this—collected the old pope’s ashes and put them on trial.”

“What,” Sam repeats, mouth dropping open in disbelief.

“It was the most batshit insane Medieval farce of a trial I have ever seen, and I grew up in the Soviet Union.” Natasha tips her head in reluctant approval at this lunacy. “So anyway, now there are two popes, and they’ve each ex-communicated the other.”

“So if Todd is a follower of the schismatic pope, then I guess we need to go get some holy water blessed by that guy instead?” Sam says.

“Natasha and I can go,” Steve offers.

Bucky narrows his eyes at this and bumps Sam’s knee under the table. “Nah, Sam and I can go. The last time I was in Avignon, I was in the infantry and it was being bombed by the Germans,” Bucky laments. He knows how guilty Steve feels about the horrors Bucky witnessed in the war before Steve rescued him from Kreischberg. “Plus Avignon is really beautiful this time of year.”

“It will be a healing trip,” Sam says earnestly.

***

One of Bucky’s many mysterious superpowers is that no matter where they are in the world, no matter what part of any city, no matter what language everybody is speaking and whether Bucky can speak it too, Bucky can disappear for fifteen minutes and magically return with the best weed Sam has ever smoked.

They’re at their hotel in Avignon, relaxing after a pretty tense dinner with Pope Stephen X—known apparently to “regular” Catholics as the Antipope of Avignon—and his loony band of schismatics. Sam has already expended the majority of today’s allotted emotional energy pretending that everything this guy did wasn’t deeply weird.

“Do you think he’s actually going to release a papal bull against Destiel?” Bucky asks. He sucks on the end of their joint, cheeks hollowing out attractively as he inhales, before he exhales and passes it back over to Sam.

They’re on the roof of the hotel, where they’re probably not technically allowed to be, but Sam used his wings to get them up here anyway and he’s sure they have some sort of diplomatic immunity or something, right? Probably. They have a gorgeous view of the Rhone, painted dark purple in the setting sun, and the Palais des Papes looks Gothic and romantic as hell surrounded by Medieval ramparts.

“I don’t know, man,” Sam says, shrugging. He feels warm and lazy. “I tried to tell him it’d be political or religious suicide or whatever if he did. Like 40% of the world’s Catholics live in Latin America and they’re all Destiel believers down there.”

They lapse into silence for a moment, and then Bucky says, “Hey, Sam? Do you ever think about submarines?”

“I mean, occasionally, I guess,” Sam says thoughtfully. “Why?”

“I dunno,” Bucky replies, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “It’s just so funny thinking about all the submarines floating out there, hiding from each other. Like, what a ridiculous thing we all decided to do. We just send people out for months at a time and tell them to find other submarines but not to let other submarines find them. And like every major superpower does this, and it costs billions of dollars.”

“That’s a good point, but also you’re high as fuck,” Sam replies, stifling a grin. “Where did you even get this weed?”

“French Mafia,” Bucky responds blithely.

Sam shakes his head in disbelief, wondering when that became a thing. He pours another glass of wine from the picnic basket they brought up with them and takes a sip. “This is a nice ass spread, by the way. You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

Bucky grins in response, and oh, Sam knows that grin.

“C’mere, baby,” Sam says. “Let’s make out.”

***

It takes a while for Natasha to track Todd to his new lair, but eventually she finds it in the Free State of Michigan. Like everything else about the world after the Snap, everything about that situation is confusing as hell too, because when Michigan seceded from the Union, the Upper and Lower Peninsulas actually split apart from each other. It wasn’t even because one peninsula wanted to leave and the other wanted to stay either—they both wanted to leave, but the Lower Peninsula refused to let the Upper Peninsula tag along with them, arguing that they didn’t contribute enough to their tax base.

So now the Lower Peninsula is an independent country known as the Free State of Michigan, while the Upper Peninsula is still a part of the United States of America and is known simply as Michigan. They fought a lot over which peninsula got to keep the name Michigan, and the Upper Peninsula only narrowly won that battle after Ohio got its trashy ass involved.

Finally, after the Battle of Toledo and the total shit show that was the Second Michigan-Ohio War, the United States government finally agreed to let the Free State of Michigan leave so long as they got to keep the Upper Peninsula and call it Michigan. So now the Lower Peninsula is a libertarian hellhole called the Free State of Michigan and Sam has to use his passport to get there.

“Do you even need a passport?” Bucky asks. They’re in the middle of fighting Todd, who’s not actually that good at fighting but is very good at exploding into a group of bats every time they try to land a punch. “You’re Captain America. I feel like this is a situation like the Queen of England, where she doesn’t need a passport because all passports are issued by her.”

“I don’t think that all American passports are issued by me,” Sam says doubtfully. He should probably check with Nick Fury or maybe the President about that, though.

Todd re-forms back into a person just to be a dick and tell Sam he’ll never be the real Captain America.

“You’re an asshole, Todd,” Sam informs him. Then, before Todd can become bats again, Sam slings his shield, already coated in holy water blessed by the Antipope of Avignon, directly at Todd’s neck, busting through his brace and re-severing his head.

 “Nice hit,” Bucky says, whistling in admiration.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to do the trick, because Todd just stands up, gropes blindly for his head, and once he finds it, he poofs into a swarm of bats, each one cradling its little head in its right wing, flying off into the night at a distinctly wonky angle.

“Damn it, Todd!” Sam calls after him. “What the fuck do you even believe in, man?”

***

They don’t stay at a hotel in the Free State of Michigan because it’s a dystopian nightmare where every hotel room is a smoking room and Sam is genuinely concerned about being hunted for sport, so they take the Quinjet back to New York.

They get in late, showering perfunctorily and climbing into bed nude together, too tired to bother pulling on pajamas. When Sam wakes up in the morning, he can see that it’s really more like mid-afternoon, the sun streaming in through their curtains, filling the bedroom with soft, diffused light. Bucky is pressed up against his back, too hot and just a tiny bit sweaty, his hard cock nestled up against Sam’s ass.

When Sam shifts a bit against him, reluctantly considering the prospect of getting up and starting the day, Bucky makes a discontented little noise and wraps his arm around Sam’s chest to pull him back.

“No, come back here,” Bucky mumbles, voice rough with sleep. He throws his leg over Sam’s, trapping him into place, and drops a warm kiss onto the back of Sam’s neck. Sam shivers at the feel of Bucky’s lips against the sensitive skin at his nape, and Bucky’s hand wanders down Sam’s chest and along his flank as he subtly grinds his cock into Sam’s ass.

Sam lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, that’s what you want?” he asks with amusement.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky breathes. “That’s what I want.”

Sam turns over to face him, capturing Bucky’s lips in a slow and dirty kiss. Bucky moans softly, and his hand slides down to blatantly grope Sam’s ass, fingers kneading into the hard muscle. Bucky’s cock is pressed against his, and Sam can’t resist grinding a bit against him.

When Sam pulls back from the kiss, he asks, “You sure about this? Sex changes things.”

“Sure I’m sure,” Bucky says, grinning. “I mean, it’s been awhile, but Steve and I always—”

“Do not tell me you and Steve used to fuck back in the day.” Sam groans, willing his brain not to indulge those mental images.

“Wait, did you and Steve not—”

“No!” Sam says defensively. “Steve and I were best friends, not boyfriends.”

“Sam, first of all, it’s totally normal to fuck your best friend, it’s called friends with benefits. I looked it up, and it’s a thing.” Bucky sounds placid, relaxed, his tone entirely too reasonable, his expression even and unbothered. “And second of all, you and I are only pretending to be best friends, so it’ll be even more fine for us.”

Bucky shifts his hips against Sam again, and Sam stifles a low moan. Sam is absolutely going to go along with this nonsense. God, all of his relationships with all of his friends have gotten so deeply weird ever since Steve came into his life. Steve’s boundary issues with Bucky are infecting the entire rest of the team.

“Yeah, OK,” Sam agrees, then gasps as Bucky leans down to lick and then gently bite Sam’s nipple. The sensation goes straight to Sam’s cock and he can’t resist thrusting his pelvis up against Bucky’s hard abs. “Fuck, baby.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky says, licking his way down Sam’s chest, mouthing and sucking at the skin on Sam’s lower belly and thighs, soft and gentle and careful, like maybe he doesn’t want to leave any bruises. Sam wonders if that’s a leftover habit from fucking Steve, if Bucky hadn’t wanted to leave marks on Steve’s pale, delicate skin, still so quick to bloom purple even now that his bruises fade in a matter of hours. As Sam pictures Bucky’s mouth on Steve, licking and sucking at him the same way that he’s torturing Sam now, heat spreads through his entire body, his skin on fire.

Bucky spends an excruciatingly long time just teasing and kissing around Sam’s cock before he finally, finally runs his tongue slowly up Sam’s hard length.

“Fuck,” Sam curses, fighting to keep his hips still. Bucky looks up at him from beneath those long lashes, and Sam feels a sharp tug in his lower belly at the sight of those gorgeous gray eyes. “Fuck, please.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Bucky says soothingly.

He presses a soft kiss to the tip of Sam’s cock and then wraps his pretty lips around him and slides down, maintaining eye contact as he takes Sam deep into his mouth. Sam gasps at all that wet heat surrounding him, shocked by the fire racing down his spine as he feels Bucky swallow him down.

“Bucky,” Sam says helplessly, reaching down to put his hands in Bucky’s thick hair, soft and still messy from sleep.

Sam shifts restlessly, trying not to fuck Bucky’s mouth as Bucky leisurely drags his mouth up and down Sam’s cock, his pace maddeningly, frustratingly slow. When Bucky slides all the way down to the base of Sam’s cock, taking his entire length into his mouth, Sam’s hips jerk involuntarily and his fists clench in Bucky’s hair.

“Fuck, baby, I need—I need—”

Bucky pulls his mouth off Sam’s cock and Sam moans at the loss of that tight heat. Bucky’s eyes are knowing, his lips spit-slick and pink, so pretty and swollen.

“I know what you need, sweetheart,” Bucky says sympathetically, wickedly, his voice rough from Sam’s cock down his throat. “You gonna let me fuck you, Sam?”

“Yeah, God, yeah,” Sam says. Sam’s pulse leaps at the thought, and he takes a deep breath to try to force his racing heart to calm down, to steady his shaking hands.

Bucky kisses his way back up Sam’s chest, leaning over Sam to whisper in his ear, “So gorgeous, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel so good, Sam.”

Bucky reaches into the top drawer of the nightstand to pull out a condom and a bottle of lube. Sam starts to turn over, to bring himself up onto all fours, when Bucky stops him and says, “No, stay there, sweetheart. I wanna see you while I fuck you.”

Bucky grabs a pillow and slides it under Sam’s ass, pulling Sam’s knees up and spreading his legs apart so he can look at him. Sam trembles under Bucky’s gaze, his skin prickling as Bucky’s eyes roam greedily over Sam’s body.

“Fuck, Sam,” Bucky says reverently. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Sam gasps, arching his back when he feels the slick press of Bucky’s finger at his hole.

He tries not to clench up, tries to relax his muscles as Bucky slides a finger smoothly inside him. Bucky is sweet and soothing, praising Sam as he works his finger in and out of him, telling Sam how beautiful he is, how good he feels, how much Bucky can’t wait to be inside of him. Sam’s poor, neglected cock is dripping precome onto his lower belly, and Sam reaches down to take himself in hand, giving his cock a gentle stroke.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” Bucky says, his eyes hot and admiring as they watch Sam’s fist moving over his cock.

Sam keeps at it, leisurely jerking himself off while Bucky works a second and then a third finger into him. Bucky’s eyes are dark and hungry, and Sam feels aroused and exposed and needy, desperate for more, ready for Bucky’s cock to fuck him open and fill him up. He’s panting and gasping, chanting, “Please, please, please” as Bucky’s fingers stretch and pull at his loosening rim.

“You want it?” Bucky says, ripping open the condom package, pulling out the condom and sliding it down the thick, flushed length of his cock.

“Please, yes, I need it,” Sam begs.

And Sam’s embarrassed by his eagerness, how desperate he is for it, but the humiliation only makes him more aroused, his cock hardening further under his hand. He’s always so quick to say yes to Bucky, so quick to be tempted even against his own common sense, and Jesus fuck is he grateful for that now because that is Bucky’s cock sliding into him, pushing past the tight ring of muscle at Sam’s entrance and filling him up.

Bucky grabs Sam’s legs and hitches them up around his waist, sliding another inch of his thick cock deep inside Sam, who’s gasping and panting beneath him. Sam’s knees tighten around Bucky’s sides, gripping him tight and using his leverage to pull Bucky deeper into him. Sweat begins to form at the small of Sam’s back and behind his knees, prickling at his overheated skin.

“Sam,” Bucky moans. “God, Sam, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Bucky bends down to steal a wet, filthy kiss as he slides his cock deeper, pushing that last, final inch all the way into Sam. Bucky’s hips are flush against him, and Sam feels so connected to Bucky, with Bucky’s tongue sliding slickly into Sam’s mouth and Bucky’s cock thrusting deep into Sam’s ass, and Sam swears Bucky’s heart is beating in time with his, twin rhythms pounding faster and faster until Sam feels like they’ll both burst into flames.

“C’mon,” Sam urges. “I need it. Please, baby.”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, leaning down to give Sam one last kiss before he braces himself on his arms and starts moving, slow and deep and dirty, into Sam. Sam’s head falls back as his back arches, and Bucky’s teeth nip gently at the exposed skin of Sam’s neck. Sam reaches down to grab Bucky’s ass, and Bucky inhales sharply when Sam pulls him, hard, so far inside him that Sam feels like he’ll choke on Bucky’s cock.

“Sam—Sam, you—”

“Yeah, baby, please—”

“God, Sam—”

Bucky fucks him so slowly, so sweetly, that Sam feels like he’s going to float off into space, lost in the feel of Bucky’s cock hitting that sensitive spot before dragging back out against his tender rim. Sam moans every time Bucky hits his prostate, feeling his balls begin to tighten and draw up against his body. Bucky’s pace slowly shifts from controlled and relentless to wild and irregular.

“Sam, Sam, look at me,” Bucky groans. Sam opens his eyes to find Bucky looking wrecked, his lips swollen, eyes dark and dazed, looking beautiful and so utterly focused on Sam. Their eyes meet and Bucky holds the contact, biting his lip and moaning. “Sam, Sam, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, c’mon, do it—”

Bucky comes with a choked cry, shuddering and thrusting his hips erratically against Sam. His body shakes and shivers, breath coming in heavy gasps against Sam’s mouth.

Sam groans and focuses his attention back to stroking his cock, his hand moving faster and faster as Bucky pants and recovers above him. Sam’s almost there, so close, when Bucky leans down to kiss him, teeth biting gently at Sam’s bottom lip, and stars explode behind Sam’s eyes as he spills over his fist.

Bucky is slow to pull out of Sam, kissing him lazily before removing the condom and then collapsing on top of him. Sam wraps his arms around Bucky as they breathe and let their hearts settle, pressed tightly against one another.

“God, Sam,” Bucky says, voice muffled by Sam’s neck, sounding happy and exhausted and overwhelmed.

Sam lets Bucky rest on top of him for a while until he begins to feel suffocated by the weight of an entire supersoldier resting on him. He nudges Bucky to the side a little, and Bucky rolls onto his back, pulling Sam over to rest his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

Sam wonders if Bucky understands that “friends with benefits” usually don’t make love to each other the way that Bucky just made love to him.

“Good, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, pressing a kiss to the top of Sam’s head.

“Yeah.” The corner of Sam’s mouth turns up in a grin. “You did all right.”

“You were pretty good yourself,” Bucky says appreciatively. “Thought I was going to die when I got inside you. Christ, sweetheart.”

They lapse into blissful silence for a moment, and Bucky reaches over to grab Sam’s hand and pull it onto his chest. He plays with Sam’s fingers idly, intertwining their fingers and then pulling back to stroke his thumb over Sam’s palm. Bucky seems utterly relaxed and content, and Sam hates to break the comfortable silence but he just has to ask.

“So,” Sam says casually, “is that always how you fuck? All slow and romantic and full of eye contact?”

“Well, I mean, I’ve only ever had sex with Steve, so I guess so?” Bucky says, frowning. Sam is a little stunned at this revelation, eyebrows shooting upward in shock, because Bucky is one of the most attractive men Sam has ever met and Sam now knows for a fact that Bucky knows how to seduce someone if he wants it. “I guess I’m not really sure how I’d fuck someone other than you or Steve. I mean, maybe Natalia—”

Sam decides to interrupt Bucky before he finishes that interesting thought. “Rumor has it that you were a real smooth operator back in the day, though, taking ladies out on the town and double dating with Steve and going out dancing all night. You’re saying you never seriously tried it on with anybody else?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“Well, I mean, there were girls,” Bucky says slowly. “But I sorta got the feeling that they didn’t really take me seriously? Like, they were happy to go dancing with me, and they’d give me a sweet kiss at the end of the night, but if I tried for anything more they’d just pat me on the cheek and tell me to say hi to Steve for them and I really should take out their friend Betty next week.”

Bucky shrugs, obviously baffled by this behavior, but Sam suddenly understands exactly why Bucky wasn’t very successful with the ladies, and Sam really should have been way less surprised by the fact that even the sheltered Catholic girls of 1940s Brooklyn could tell that Bucky and Steve were deeply weird about each other and Bucky wasn’t exactly available.

“Did you ever want to get married and have a family?”

“Sure, someday,” Bucky says carelessly. “But Steve and I were still young when the war hit. I thought we’d have more time together. And then we didn’t, and Steve met Peggy, and you know how everything went after that.”

“It didn’t bother you when Steve found Peggy?”

“No, of course not,” Bucky says, his eyes shining and earnest. “Peggy was a doll. And I’ve been in love with Steve my whole life. I knew we’d always be best friends. It never even occurred to me that I could ever really lose Steve, not in a way that mattered. After all, who can ever really come between someone and their best friend?”

And that—explains a lot about Bucky’s near fanatical devotion to the very concept of best friendship. Sam shakes his head at this, knowing that there’s probably no point in trying to shake Steve and Bucky out of the wacky coping mechanisms they’ve developed for 1940s homophobia. After over a hundred years that shit has got to be way too deeply entrenched in their psyches.

Sam resigns himself to embracing their crazy on this particular issue. At least Bucky is hot.

***

Sam and Bucky are visiting Sam’s mom, and Sam doesn’t know how his mom knows, but somehow she definitely does know that something is different between Sam and Bucky, and boy does she look thrilled about it.

“Thank you so much for the lovely flowers, Bucky!” Sam’s mom gushes. “And you thought to bring a dish for dinner! Sam never used to bring a dish with him to dinner.” She beams at Bucky, so clearly approving of all of the changes Bucky has brought to Sam’s life, then looks meaningfully over at Sarah and Michelle. “And don’t they look handsome!”

Michelle simply nods obediently at this, because she’s eleven and not particularly impressed by Sam’s too-formal attire, but Sarah gives him a quick once over and then raises her eyebrows in mild surprise at his tailored blazer.

Sam and Sarah have a quick conversation through facial expressions, communicating “What’s all this then, Sam?” and “Don’t make a big thing about it, Sarah,” and “Is he your boyfriend?” and “Shut up, Sarah!” through a series of suggestively waggled eyebrows and narrowed eyes and teasing smirks.

“I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you to plan a meal without meat, Mrs. Wilson,” Bucky says with concern. “If it’s too much or you don’t want the hassle of meal planning, you’re all more than welcome to come to our apartment for dinner on Sunday nights.”

And the thing is, Bucky’s not being smarmy or insincere about it at all. He would be genuinely happy to have Sam’s family over for dinner every Sunday night, because Bucky likes cooking and he likes Sam and he likes families, and maybe Sam’s starting to feel some kind of way about all of Bucky’s effortless charm and openhanded generosity and muscular thighs.

“So you and Sam are living together,” Sarah says with interest. Even Michelle perks up at this, finally glancing up from her phone, where she’s been texting rapidly or possibly live tweeting this entire embarrassing conversation.

Bucky puts a casual arm around Sam’s shoulders, and come on, Bucky has to know how this looks to Sam’s family, right? “Yep, for probably around six months now, right, sweetheart?” Bucky says, smiling at Sam.

And suddenly Sam realizes that maybe Bucky doesn’t know how this looks to Sam’s family, because Bucky has such an extreme lack of awareness regarding normal friendship boundaries, and also because they’re so far deep into this whole fake-best-friends thing that this is just the way that the two of them act now, all the time.

And, really, Sam has to blame Steve and Natasha for this too, because the two of them are only encouraging this madness with all the “best friends dates” and the excessive physical affection and their own overly invested relationship. Literally no one in Bucky’s life is modeling basic relationship boundaries for him, no wonder he slipped through the cracks of normal human friendship behavior.

And Sam must be crazy too, because he just smiles back at Bucky and says, “Yep, that sounds about right, baby.” Because Sam isn’t really all that concerned about normal human friendship behavior when Bucky looks at him like that, gray eyes all warm and soft and pleased, like Sam’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

Sam’s heart beats a little faster in his chest, warmth traveling through his veins, and oh, this is a thing.

“You know, when you and Steve were living together, he never invited us over to your place,” Sam’s mother points out. Thanks to all of Bucky’s hard work rehabbing Steve’s tarnished image in Sam’s mother’s eyes, Steve has been upgraded from that boy to Steve, always stated with a faint moue of distaste.

“Steve and I were international fugitives, Mom,” Sam replies, his tone patient. “We didn’t have a stable place to invite you to.”

“And whose fault was that!” Sam’s mom says triumphantly.

“Mom, I made my own choices when it came to the Accords.”

“Sam’s not a follower,” Bucky agrees, and it’s sweet that Bucky thinks so but Sam realizes now that that is a complete lie, because Sam has done nothing but follow Bucky along in this foolishness ever since he felt Bucky’s body pressed up against him in a closet. “And if anything it’s probably my fault how everything went down. I was the one they blamed for that bombing—Steve and Sam were just trying to help me. They really are the best friends I could ever ask for, and I’m still not sure I was worth everything they went through for it.’”

And maybe it’s just a fluke of the phrasing, maybe Bucky didn’t really mean it, but Sam can’t help but notice that this is the first time Bucky has ever used the plural form of the term best friend.

“Oh, dear, that wasn’t your fault!” Sam’s mother protests. “You were framed for that bombing!”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t Steve’s fault either, Mom.”

Sam’s mother sniffs. “Well, I still think Steve could have made more of an effort to get to know your family.”

“I’m still friends with Steve, Mom,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “Our friendship is not past tense, we’re not, like, broken up or something.”

“Then why isn’t Steve here for Sunday dinner with the rest of the family?” Sam’s mother gestures around the table at the five of them, and Sam’s heart skips a beat as he realizes that his mother is including Bucky in the family.

Sarah and Michelle are observing this conversation with ill-concealed glee, unabashedly enjoying Sam’s friendship-slash-relationship-slash-familial drama. Bucky’s arm is still wrapped around Sam, his thumb rubbing absent little circles on Sam’s shoulder, and Michelle is tapping away on her phone as she watches. Sam doesn’t have high hopes for this staying off the internet when he catches Michelle snapping a surreptitious photo of Sam tucked in snugly under Bucky’s arm.

It’s Bucky’s metal arm, too, so no chance of passing Bucky off as some random dude.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, Sam thinks. He leans over and gives Bucky a soft kiss on the mouth right in front of his family.

***

Sam and Bucky are fooling around on the sofa after finishing season one of The Mandalorian—apparently Pedro Pascal’s bedroom voice really does it for both of them—and Sam is finally getting the chance to trace Bucky’s abs with his tongue the way he imagined every single time he jerked off in the shower back before Bucky started taking showers with him.

Sam shifts down to suck a bruise into the sharp jut of Bucky’s hip bone, and Bucky moans underneath him. Bruises don’t last any longer on Bucky than they do on Steve, but Sam still likes seeing Bucky’s fair skin mottled with fresh marks, likes the possessive little thrill it sends through him to see Bucky’s perfect flesh marred by Sam’s mouth and teeth.

“Sam, please, suck me, sweetheart,” Bucky begs.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, pulling Bucky’s boxer-briefs down his hips and watching in satisfaction when Bucky’s hard cock springs forward, flushed and thick and perfect. Sam is impatient tonight, wants Bucky’s cock in his mouth now, and he leans forward to swallow Bucky down in one long, slick slide.

“Fuck, Sam,” Bucky moans.

Sam grabs Bucky’s hips as he bobs his head up and down, fingers digging in tight, bruising, to keep Bucky from thrusting into Sam’s mouth. Bucky is strong enough that he could easily break Sam’s hold but he doesn’t, squirming restlessly underneath Sam, frustrated and needy and desperate.

Sam pulls off Bucky’s cock long enough to take in a big gulp of air before he slides back down, taking Bucky as far back into his throat as he can, and Bucky moans brokenly when Sam tightens his mouth and lips around him. Sam sets a steady rhythm, swirling his tongue around the head of Bucky’s cock and then sucking him back down again, spit slicking up the way. Sam reaches up to roll Bucky’s balls between his fingers, squeezing and tugging gently, admiring the heft of them in his hand.

“God, Sam, Sam,” Bucky chants, hands fisting in the sheets to keep from grabbing Sam’s head and fucking his face. “Sam, sweetheart, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

Sam moans around Bucky’s cock, and Bucky cries out, tapping Sam’s shoulder in a desperate warning before he breaks Sam’s hold on his hips and thrusts forward, flooding Sam’s mouth with come. Sam swallows him down, bitter and salty, and then leans forward to rest his head against Bucky’s pelvis and catch his breath.

“God, Sam,” Bucky says, panting. He looks flushed and beautiful, and Sam’s heart feels like it’s going to explode in his chest.

“I love you too,” Sam says helplessly.

Bucky looks awestruck for a moment, then says, “C’mere,” in a rough voice.

He pulls Sam up and gives him a quick, hard kiss, then reaches down to unbutton Sam’s jeans and slide his hand around Sam’s cock. He strokes Sam firmly, a brutal pace that drives Sam half out of his mind. Sam’s already so hard from sucking Bucky’s cock, can still taste Bucky’s come in his mouth, and he won’t need much to get there.

“Baby, please, I need—”

“I know what you need, sweetheart,” Bucky says comfortingly. He buries his head in Sam’s neck, biting down on the thick cord of muscle that leads to Sam’s shoulder, and Sam’s back arches in pleasure. Bucky strokes him just a little faster, almost enough, thumb rubbing at that sensitive spot right beneath Sam’s glans. “C’mon, sweetheart, come for me.”

And Sam does, come splattering over his lower belly, mind going blissfully blank and toes curling in pleasure. While Sam comes down from his high, Bucky reaches up to cup Sam’s face in his hand, stroking his thumb tenderly over Sam’s cheek. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Sam leans forward to kiss him, losing himself in the warm heat of Bucky’s mouth, their lips moving in a slow, gentle slide against each other. They make out lazily for a while, hands roaming appreciatively over each other’s bodies, until Sam reluctantly pulls away to clean up.

When Sam returns to the living room, Bucky is sitting in the dim light of the television, chewing anxiously at his lower lip. Sam plops down next to him, turning on his side to face him and putting his feet in Bucky’s lap.

“Did you mean it?” Bucky asks uncertainly. “It wasn’t just, like, a heat of the moment thing?”

“I did,” Sam confirms, his voice sure and steady. “Did you mean it?”

“God, yes, Sam. I love you.”

They look at each other dopily for a while, then Bucky tugs at Sam’s legs to urge him further down the sofa, closer to Bucky. They curl up together and enjoy the comfortable silence until Bucky says, “Tell me something you’ve never told Steve.”

Sam thinks for a moment, then groans. He covers his face with his hands, peeking embarrassedly through his fingers, and says, “OK, so I went through a phase, when I first got out of high school, where I told everybody to call me Snap Wilson.”

Bucky laughs incredulously, then claps a hand over his mouth to stifle it, mostly unsuccessfully. “I’m sorry, you told them to call you what now?” he asks gleefully.

“I told them to call me Snap Wilson,” Sam grits out. He is already regretting this, but Bucky looks so fucking elated that Sam can’t bring himself to care too much about the inevitable teasing he’s going to receive. And it’s Bucky, not Steve or Natasha, so Sam knows that the ribbing won’t be too savage.

Bucky is already trying to suppress his wild grin, pressing his lips together until they turn almost white. “So was this like a rough time you were going through, like trouble at home or something, or did you just think Snap Wilson sounded cool?” His voice is a mixture of genuine concern and barely concealed amusement.

“I just thought it sounded cool,” Sam confesses.

Bucky laughs in delight, and Sam gives him a sour look, poking him in the side. “Yeah, yeah, your turn now, buddy,” Sam says. “Tell me something you’ve never told Steve.”

Bucky sobers up, clears his throat and says, “I didn’t enlist in the Army.”

“What?”

“I let Steve think that I enlisted, because I didn’t want him to know that I had to drop out of college to pay for his medical bills when he got sick the winter of ’41. Got called up shortly after, told him that I enlisted.”

Sam’s heart breaks a little at that, for Bucky, because he would have done anything to take care of Steve, and for Steve, who never would have forgiven himself if Bucky had gotten drafted and sent home in a body bag on his account. To this day Steve still feels guilty about leaving Bucky behind in that ravine, even though he had no reason to believe that Bucky could have survived the fall, and anyway Steve drove a plane straight into the Arctic like a week later and couldn’t have rescued Bucky anyway.

“So wait, how does Steve think you paid for his medical bills?”

“I told him I got paid to pose for some dirty pictures,” Bucky says with a saucy grin. “Then he asked to see them and I had to beg one of his photographer friends to take some for me to try to sell the whole embarrassing lie. Honestly I was a little flattered that Steve had exactly zero questions about the whole thing, like of course someone would pay to see me jerking off wearing a pair of women’s stockings.”

Sam raises his eyebrows at that. “Any chance those pictures are still around somewhere?”

“I’m pretty sure Steve burned them all before he headed out on the bond circuit,” Bucky says with regret, then brightens. “But on the plus side, I think I just came up with a great idea for the erotic portrait series Steve’s been working on during all of our best friend dates.”

Sam grins cheerfully at this. “Nice.”

***

A month later, they’re in Eastern Washington with Steve and Natasha, fighting off a horde of formerly human white nationalist cult members who are now a group of largely mindless but probably still racist vampires.

The vampires aren’t much of a threat, but there are a bunch of them and they’re good at causing enough chaos that it’s hard to get close to Todd, who’s in a neck brace again and back on his bullshit.

Sam’s done a ton of research on Catholicism since the last time they met and he’s still not sure how to finally kill this guy. The holy water blessed by the Roman pope didn’t work, and the holy or possibly unholy water blessed by the Antipope of Avignon didn’t work, and Sam’s pretty much run out of popes to get holy water from. Out of a commitment to preparedness Sam’s brought along vials of leftover holy water from each pope, but he’s honestly not sure if they’ll be much help to them if neither of them even works.

Sam, Bucky, and Steve are all covered in blood from the vampires they’ve slain so far, but as usual Natasha still looks perfectly pristine as she lectures Todd on his many sins and hypocrisies. God, she even had the audacity to wear a white uniform to this. Sam’s heart swells with affection for her.

“I thought you were supposed to be Catholic, Todd. It’s not very pro-life of you to create all these vampires,” Natasha says, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I’m just trying to make humanity great again,” Todd snaps defensively through his ridiculous plastic fangs. “Society works best when there are a few strong leaders and many weak, dependent followers. HYDRA believes in order. The Catholic Church used to believe in order too—it used to understand the value of an authoritarian system of governing its followers.”

And just like that, Sam understands Todd’s belief system. “He’s a Sedevacant!” Sam announces, pointing a finger in triumph.

“What?” Bucky asks, firing a crossbow into a vampire trying to latch its fangs into Steve’s calf. The vampire explodes in a shower of red, and Steve wrinkles his nose in disgust but keeps fighting. At this point there’s not very much of Steve that isn’t covered in blood, and Sam hopes they aren’t all going to have to worry about bloodborne diseases from this whole gross situation.

“Remember all those changes in the Catholic Church since you and Steve were kids? Those all came about after the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s. Sedevacants believe that the church lost its way and fell into heresy when it embraced modernism. So according to them there is no valid pope—the seat of the pope is actually vacant,” Sam explains, tossing his shield off to behead a vampire looming over Bucky.

“Thanks, sweetheart!” Bucky calls, blowing him a kiss.

“Great,” Natasha says, irritated. “And how are we supposed to get holy water blessed by no one? Wouldn’t that just be regular water?”

Sam frowns in dismay at this terrible, zany loophole Todd has apparently discovered.

Todd cackles triumphantly. “You can’t! You’ll never be able to kill me—there’s no holy water on earth that’s been blessed by no one,” Todd boasts. “I’m invincible!”

“Not so fast,” Bucky says, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Sam, do you still have both vials of holy water?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Mix them together!” Bucky says. “Holy water blessed by the pope plus holy water blessed by the antipope will cancel each other out.”

Todd’s eyes widen in horror. “No, that won’t work!”

“It’s simple math, Todd,” Bucky says smugly. “Sam, do it, I’ll cover you!”

Sam’s hands are steady as he unscrews the tops of the bottles, sure in the knowledge that Bucky will have his back if any vampires try to latch onto him while he’s busy. He coats the shield in holy water from each of the vials, making sure to cover every square inch. Then, with a mighty throw, he launches the shield toward Todd, nailing him directly in the throat.

When Todd’s head is blown back off his body, he explodes into a bloody, disgusting mess.

“Gross,” Steve says.

The baby vampires stumble around, confused and lost without their leader, and it only takes about twenty minutes for Sam and the others to slay the rest of them now that Todd’s dead.

 Sam makes a mental note to use all of his influence as Captain America to get Bucky an honorary doctorate in mathematics from Harvard or Yale or something after all this.

***

Sam and Bucky spend forty-five long minutes showering off all the blood after their showdown with Todd and his racist vampire gang, the last fifteen of which are spent with Bucky pressed up against the shower wall with Sam’s tongue in his ass.

“Fuck, sweetheart, please,” Bucky begs. He’s trembling and squirming, spreading his legs shamelessly for Sam. “Fuck me, Sam, please.”

Sam reaches down to squeeze the base of his cock, liquid heat pooling in his belly at the thought of sliding his cock into that tight hole he’s been eagerly, methodically loosening. Bucky’s hands are pulling at his own ass, spreading his cheeks so sweetly, so obediently for Sam’s mouth. Sam traces a finger around Bucky’s wet rim, poking in just a bit to test him out, and Bucky’s thighs twitch and shake around Sam’s face.

“You think you can take it standing up?” Sam asks, giving Bucky an assessing look.

Bucky bites his lip and sobs a bit, panting and gasping, his face pressed up against the shower wall. Bucky looks wrecked already, so pretty, and Sam decides to take pity on him.

“C’mon, baby, let’s go to the bedroom,” Sam says, standing up and shutting off the shower.

He wraps Bucky in a towel and leads him to the hotel bedroom, and Bucky shivers prettily in the cool air, goosebumps rising on his clean, damp skin. Sam crowds Bucky against the mattress to warm him up, leaning his head down to dip into the wet heat of Bucky’s mouth, sliding his tongue against Bucky’s in a dirty kiss that leaves them both moaning.

Sam grabs the lube and Bucky spreads his legs eagerly, obscenely, and the sight is so erotic that Sam feels like he’s been punched in the gut, breathless with desire and desperate to plunge his cock into all that tight, willing heat. His hands shake a bit as he fumbles with the lube, and he coats his fingers until they’re nice and slick, ready to slide right in with just the slightest amount of pressure.

Bucky gasps when Sam slips one long finger into him, biting his lip and arching his back. “Sam, more—I need—”

“I got you, baby,” Sam says, sliding another finger in next to the first. Bucky’s mouth gapes open, his throat emitting a choked off little cry, and Sam’s cock is achingly hard at the sound, weeping messily against Sam’s belly, dripping little trails of precome. Bucky’s a quivering mess underneath him, and Sam presses wet kisses between Bucky’s thighs as he ruthlessly opens him up. “God, look at you, baby.”

Sam gives him another finger, and Bucky takes it, keening and begging. “More—please—Sam, I want your cock.”

“Oh, you think you’re ready for it, baby?”

“Yes, please, Sam,” Bucky whines, and Sam reluctantly removes his fingers, climbing up to settle his body over Bucky’s, letting gravity pull him down so they’re pressed tightly together. Bucky may be sweet and pliant underneath him now, but Sam knows how strong he really is, how easily he can bear Sam’s weight.

When Sam starts pushing his cock inside of him, Bucky gasps, mouth opening in a small o of pleasure. Sam fucks Bucky shallowly until he grows impatient, needs to go deeper, grabbing Bucky’s thighs to pull them up so he can bend Bucky in half underneath him. Bucky’s limbs are long and flexible, moving easily as Sam moves him right where he needs him. Sam bites his own lip, hard, as Bucky’s hole pulls him in, clutching greedily at Sam’s throbbing cock.

When Sam slides all the way home, Bucky gasps and says, “Sam, Sam, wait—”

Sam pauses, his cock buried fully inside Bucky, panting harshly at the effort of keeping his hips still.

“Yeah, baby,” Sam says, voice straining. “What do you need?”

“Sam,” Bucky says, and he sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes and visibly working to control himself. “Sam, I need to tell you something.”

Sam looks down at Bucky and waits, letting Bucky take the time he needs to settle. Sam’s hips are flush against Bucky’s ass, his cock seated fully inside of him, and he feels so connected to Bucky, like they’re two parts of the same whole.

Bucky pants raggedly for a few moments, squirming and restless under Sam, until he calms again, opening his eyes to look at Sam. Bucky’s lashes are long and gorgeous and damp, his pupils dark and dilated.

“Sam, I have to tell you,” Bucky says, flushing prettily, his wide eyes so earnest and sweet. “I—somewhere along the way, I want you to know, everything became real for me. You—you really are my best friend.”

Sam closes his eyes, heart so achingly full in his chest.

“You’re my best friend too,” Sam says softly, seriously, because he knows this is important to Bucky. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.” Bucky’s eyes are wet and shining.

Sam grinds his hips against Bucky’s ass, his lips curving up in a dirty grin. “You gonna let me fuck you now?” Sam asks. Bucky gasps, hands coming up to grip Sam’s back, fingers digging in bruisingly hard.

“Yeah, Sam, yeah, fuck me,” Bucky breathes.

Sam pulls out and then slams his hips back into Bucky, who gasps in surprise, spine arching in pleasure. Sam sets a hard and deep rhythm, letting loose all of the leftover tension and stress from the fight earlier, taking all that frustrated energy out on Bucky’s willing body. When Sam nails Bucky’s prostate, Bucky’s hands scrabble over Sam’s back, clutching and pulling at him frantically. “Yes, there, there,” Bucky says, voice desperate and breathy.

Sam drives his cock into Bucky faster, pounding harder as he feels his balls tighten and heat race up his spine. He’s close, so close, and he leans down to brace himself on one elbow so he can reach down to grab Bucky’s hard cock. He can tell from the noises Bucky’s making, those sweet, high whimpers, that Bucky isn’t far behind him. When he strokes Bucky hard, his fist sliding brutally up and down Bucky’s cock, Bucky arches his back and comes, spilling all over his sweaty chest.

The sight of Bucky’s come, pearly and glistening over his taut abs, sends Sam over the edge. Sam’s hips jerk and stutter, his thrusts erratic, shuddering as he feels his balls empty into Bucky’s tight hole. He wants to collapse, wants to let go and fall onto Bucky, let Bucky catch him and hold him, but instead he pulls out. Bucky whines quietly at the loss, and Sam can’t resist reaching down to rub his fingers against Bucky’s wet, puffy hole, admiring the slow trickle of Sam’s come dripping out of him. Bucky shivers at the touch of Sam’s fingers to his abused hole, probably raw and oversensitive, and Sam reluctantly drops his hand.

“Sorry,” he says, kissing Bucky’s knee in apology.

“S’ok,” Bucky slurs. “Like it when you get all vulgar and possessive on me.”

“Speaking of possessive,” Sam says, heaving out a heavy sigh and collapsing back onto the bed next to Bucky, hooking his ankle over Bucky’s. “Can we talk about the whole fake-best-friends thing? Like, where are we with that and what was our endgame there?”

“Well, I guess I was wrong about only having one best friend,” Bucky admits, looking at Sam out of the corner of his eye and grinning bashfully. “And I guess the plan was just—make Steve jealous.”

“And?” Sam prompts.

“And—I think that was it? I’m not really sure where I saw it all working out,” Bucky confesses.

“I feel like maybe you’re not all that great at planning without a murder board.”

“I’m a visual planner,” Bucky says defensively. “And it seemed kind of disrespectful to make a murder board about Steve given the fact that I did, in fact, try to murder him several times as the Winter Soldier.”

“That’s fair,” Sam concedes, tipping his head to acknowledge the point. “But we’re good now, right? I mean, we’re best friends with each other, we’re best friends with Steve and Natasha, Steve and Natasha are also best friends—and I’m kind of crazy in love with you.”

“What I’m hearing you say here is that my crazy plan worked.”

“Yeah, OK,” Sam says, hiding a smile. “Maybe it did.”

***

It’s a Saturday, and Sam and Steve are on their best friend date, and Steve is kicking Sam’s ass in the gym. Sam knows, intellectually, that he’s in fantastic shape and that there’s no shame in being beaten by a scientifically enhanced human being. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still hurt his pride—and his back, motherfucker—when Steve manages to take him down hard without even having the decency to break a sweat.

“I think that’s about enough for today. I feel like I’ve done a pretty good job wearing you out,” Steve says, smirking like an asshole, because he is an asshole. “Let’s hit the showers.”

When they get to the SHIELD locker room, it’s nearly empty, the way it usually is on Saturdays. There are still a few particularly dedicated SHIELD employees roaming about, mostly new guys. For whatever reason most of the seasoned employees stay away from the gym locker room on Saturday afternoons when Sam and Steve work out. Today, when people catch sight of Sam and Steve walking in, they blanch and immediately speed up with whatever they’re doing, hustling out of the locker room like it’s on fire or something. In under two minutes, Sam and Steve are the only ones left.

“It’s weird how everybody always leaves when they see us coming in to shower together,” Sam remarks, stripping off his sweaty shirt and tossing it in his locker.

“I wonder if they’re intimidated by us,” Steve muses, then takes a moment to admire Sam’s bare chest. Steve’s eyes are hot and appreciative as they travel lazily up and down Sam’s torso.

Sam shrugs in response, then winces as he feels a muscle tighten up in his back. “Ouch,” Sam hisses. “Man, I know I’m not twenty-five anymore, but damn, I really don’t need the reminder, you know?”

Steve’s brow furrows in concern. “Here, let me take a look at that when we get in the shower.”

They finish undressing and then get into the shower together. They share a stall, because Steve read an article about water conservation that he apparently found very inspiring, and also because sometimes it’s nice having a buddy with you. Sam lathers himself up, and then out of habit he reaches over to spin Steve around so he can wash Steve’s back too.

“God, that feels good,” Steve moans, the sound of it echoing in the strangely empty locker room. Sam spends a good few minutes really working Steve over as he scrubs Steve’s back, groping and kneading at Steve’s lats and traps while Steve moans and arches his back in pleasure.

When Sam finishes, he gives Steve a little pat and says, “OK, you do me.” Obligingly, Steve turns around to rub Sam’s back, massaging the tight muscles, his hands sliding easily over Sam’s skin with the slick of Sam’s body wash.

“This where it hurts?” Steve murmurs, digging his fingers into Sam’s lower back. “God, you’re really tight here.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, groaning at the pleasure-pain of Steve working at the sore point in his lower back. He huffs a frustrated, petulant sigh. “You know, sometimes I feel like the more I lift, the tighter I get.”

“Maybe you should start going to yoga with Bucky and Natasha,” Steve suggests. “Actually, they’re starting a class in about twenty minutes. If we hurry up in here, we could probably meet them there if you want.”

“Wait, Bucky and Natasha are at yoga today?” Sam asks in disbelief. “You’re telling me that Bucky and Natasha go to yoga? That’s what they’re doing on their best friend dates?”

Suddenly, Steve looks very anxious and very guilty.

“Wait,” Steve says slowly, apprehensively, “Bucky does tell you what he does on his best friend dates, right? He—I mean, you do know—”

“Yeah, Steve, I know,” Sam says, his tone dry. “I just thought yoga was, like, a cover for something. I didn’t think they were actually going to yoga.”

“Oh!” Steve brightens. “Yeah, it’s doing some really amazing things for Bucky’s flexibility. And for Natasha’s ass.”

Sam shrugs. “All right, then, let’s head over.”

Sam and Steve finish up in the shower, moving more quickly than their usual leisurely Saturday afternoon locker room shower pace. Sam’s skin is still a bit damp under his fresh gym clothes, but the air outside is warm, and he’ll be sweating again soon anyway once he starts working out in the humid yoga studio.

When Bucky and Natasha see Sam and Steve, their faces light up with big smiles.

“Hey, sweetheart!” Bucky says, coming over to give Sam a hug and a kiss while Natasha does the same to Steve. “You and Steve are done earlier than usual.”

“Yeah, he whooped my ass,” Sam admits, scratching his jaw.

Sam and Steve switch hugging partners, and Nat’s body feels small and strong in Sam’s arms when she goes up onto her tiptoes to give him a warm hug and a kiss on the lips. And when Sam sneaks a look downward, he notices that Steve was not lying about all the great things yoga’s been doing for Natasha’s ass.

Sam lets go of Natasha and turns back to Bucky. “So you and Nat really do yoga,” Sam says, shaking his head ruefully. “You know, all this time, I thought you two were doing some secret spy shit that you were trying to keep me from having to answer questions about? I was half-convinced that we should be thinking about getting married just so we wouldn’t have to testify against each other.”

Steve and Natasha raise their eyebrows in surprise, but Bucky looks pleased at that. “Well,” Bucky says, lips curving up in a crooked grin, “let’s not take that marriage idea off the table just yet.”

Natasha clearly aims for a sober expression, but the corner of her lip twitches and her eyes sparkle with mirth. “You know, I can’t say that we’ll definitely never get up to any secret spy shit, Sam. Maybe it’s not a bad idea to keep that in your back pocket.”

Steve raises an eyebrow and nods thoughtfully. “Plus, do we even know if Bucky’s still considered an American citizen?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Bucky admits. “But being married to Captain American should grant me automatic citizenship, probably.”

Sam shrugs placidly and slings an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

After all, Sam’s mom always did say that happiness was being married to your best friend.

[living-dead-parker]

Immortal - P.P

Summary: Part 2 to ‘60s! Request -  Hey could you do a sequel to “60’s” were Peter finds out the reader is immortal. And both of them is really surprised and confused because lost time they saw each other it was back the the 60’s

Can I add that I’m so glad I ended part one the way I did, bc then I would have been able to do this. I had two different endings originally planned, but I opted against them for the final part.

Warnings: some cussing, mentions of drug use, 

Word Count: 2.2k

"I just don't think that it was super scary," Michelle says as she continues looking forward as the three friends -Peter, Ned, and Michelle- all walk alongside each other towards the Avenger's facility. Peter leads the way when suddenly, he sees a woman. Michelle and Ned don't notice how Peter has completely come to a halt upon noticing the woman. It takes a few seconds after for them to see Peter isn't next to them.

Peter looks over at the woman across the street, one that's already looking at him. She has h/c hair, and she looks much like the woman he saw back in the sixties. Except, her hair is a bit shorter than it was then. She still looks the same, despite the haircut. She also dons a black pantsuit and she holds an umbrella in her left hand. She holds a phone in her right hand, earbuds placed into her ears. Peter remains frozen as he watches the woman cross the busy New York street without a care in the world.

"-Peter...Peter?" Ned calls. When Peter does snap out of his trance, he notices Ned and Michelle up ahead and already looking over at him. Peter turns back and sees the woman approaching him. Suddenly, his heart begins to skip a beat and he begins to feel very nervous. His mind couldn't forget the woman he saw only a month ago. Something he never told his friends.

"Peter, what are you doing?" Michelle asks. Peter ignores his friends and walks closer to the woman until the two are face to face.

The two stand in complete silence as they look at each other. Ned and Michelle are left dumbfounded as they see Peter and this random woman standing in front of each other. Neither of them says a thing, but soon Peter is taking a step closer as he examines the woman in front of him.

"I've seen you before!" the woman says, ignoring the two people walking up behind Peter. Peter nods, ignoring them as well. He takes in the sight of the woman, truly taking it in. Her e/c eyes are soft and filled with wonder as she takes a step closer, but not too close as to scare the young man away.

"Y-you have?" Peter asks, his suspicions were proved right by her words.

"I knew I wasn't tripping on some shit, I knew you were really there. But how?" she asks. Peter looks back briefly to notice his friend's shocked stares. Dumbfounded would be an understatement.

"Would you mind following me? I have some people you need to meet," Peter says. The woman looks at him hesitantly before she smiles at the young man. All she does is nod, feeling more words aren't necessary.

The entire walk to the facility was spent with silence and even quieter questions from Ned and Michelle. Especially Michelle, as Ned figured it had to do with Spider-Man and Michelle still has no clue. However, at one point, the woman began to open up, introducing herself, explaining that some 'bad shit' happened to her and now she's stuck 'here' forever.

When they do reach the facility, Peter mentions having an unauthorized guest, causing Pepper to have to come down to get the four people. When Pepper looks over at the strange woman, that she's never seen before, standing next to Peter she gives him a weird look. Almost asking him what the hell did he do today.

"Who's this, Pete?" Pepper asks.

"Pepper, I really need to get all the Avengers into the conference room. Maybe even Ms. Danvers and Doctor Strange. It's important!" Peter says. Pepper looks over at the group but ultimately nods, calling for FRIDAY to gather the team into the conference room for a meeting. Peter, mentally, cheers.

The group is quick to take the elevator up to the penultimate floor, where the conference room is. Upon reaching the door, Peter notices almost everyone is there, so he sends in Ned and Michelle to sit in, making sure to tell everyone that Peter told them to sit in the meeting as well. Peter decides to hide the woman behind another corner where she won't be seen as Carol and Stephen approach. With that, everyone is in the room and ready for the very sudden meeting.

"Okay, just wait outside the door and when I wave at you, you come in, okay?" Peter instructs. The woman is quick to nod before leaning against the wall, right across from the door. Peter walks in and he notices everyone give him some sort of deadpan look.

"What's this about, kid?" Tony asks first, earning some type of response from everyone. Mostly in agreement.

"So, you guys remember that mission a month ago, right? The one where we went back to the sixties and we had to retrieve the weird ancient book, make a copy and bring it back?" Peter asks.

"Oh, the one where you fell in love with some hippie druggie?" Sam asks, earning a chuckle from everyone. Peter's eyes go wide as he flails his arms, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. He turns briefly to look over at you, noticing the playful smirk on your lips. He rolls his eyes as he turns back to look at everyone and sighs dramatically.

"Yes, that one. You know how she saw us, right? How she was asking the guy if he saw us, but he told her she was on drugs?" Peter continues asking. Nat gives him a look, one that begs him to speed up his explanation. Everyone else just nods, waiting for him to get on with his point. All but Michelle, she's so confused.

"Well, what about it?" Stephen asks. His arms are crossed and he seems annoyed. He should be back at the sanctum, watching over the literal Earth.

"I have something I need to show you guys," Peter starts. He turns to look at the woman outside of the room, and he signals her to come over. Taking that as her cue, she moves from her spot and walks into the room, noticing everybody's eyes move to her figure and follow her every move as she walks over to Peter and stands next to him.

"No way," Sam says quietly but loud enough for everybody to hear. She smiles and waves at everyone before looking down at her hands.

"This is Y/N L/N, she's the woman we saw at the music festival from where we grabbed the book."

The room stays silent for a while. It's so quiet, you could probably hear a pin drop. Stephen opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to come up with words, but failing every time. Tony sits up, leaning forward only to go back to his deflated sitting position as his mind rakes over every possible explanation. There's plenty of ideas, and one is bound to be correct, but he wants to know the truth more than anything. Finally, Michelle is the first to get something out.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"I'll explain everything later. Right now, Y/N has something to tell the rest of you."

The woman takes the stand and looks over at everyone, feeling like she hasn't seen them in forever. Which she hasn't. She last saw them 52 years ago during one of her hardest trips. They only saw her last month, completely sober, so the memory really did stick. For all of them. She composes herself before speaking.

"Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. I know it may seem impossible I'm here. I should be some 70-year-old hag or something, but I'm stuck in my 20-year-old body. I swore for the past 50 years that you guys weren't just a figment of my bad drug trip, I swore it was a real experience, that I really did see you guys. I've tried talking to anyone who would listen, that time travel is real, but nobody believed me. I knew you guys weren't from my time, had to be from the future, but no one believed me."

Your voice is soft yet filled with excitement. Tony stands up and walks over to you, examining you closely. You're the same height as the woman from the mission, same hair color, same figure, same everything. Sure there were slight differences in small trivial things, but completely the same in every single aspect. Steve watches like a hawk, unsure of how to take everything in. Both him and Bucky. Admittedly, the two war vets weren't too fond of the woman, having lived what they couldn't.

"How are you still alive?" Steve asks.

"I could ask the same about you, Stever Rogers. Same goes for you, Sargeant James Buchanan Barnes," the woman scolds. She wasn't too fond of the two men.

"How do you know who we are?" Bucky asks.

"My father fought in the war with you two, claimed it was his proudest moment. He was never fond of me, his runaway hippie daughter. He was super racist and hated that I was dating a black man. Oh, but how he missed his old pals, Steven and James. People who probably don't remember him. He idolized you even more after you became Captain America, Rogers. He was fond of the 'oh so great' Howard Stark and all he wanted was to meet the man, but he never did. Which I'm more than grateful for because that man was such an asshole. That's beside the point."

Y/N didn't notice Tony cringing at the mention of his father. If she didn't like Howard, then what would the verdict on Tony be? At least they have not liking him in common.

"But that doesn't answer, how are you still alive?" Tony asks.

"The book, it was full of ancient spells. A grimoire of sorts, but it was all based around the use of dark magic. Donnie wanted to start his own band, influence the world, but he had no real connections. So, he turned to the book," Y/N says. She moves from her spot at the podium and walks around absentmindedly. "He did a ritual that asked for a sacrifice. Nothing too bad, just someone's mortality. Whether his or someone else's, for his fame. He sold my soul, my mortality so he could become famous. It was all in vain too, as he was never famous," she continues explaining her story. Peter watches as she continues to absentmindedly speak up. He feels bad for falling for the girl at the worst time possible. "So, now I'm stuck here. Immortal, in my sacrifice vessel. I don't die, I'll never die unless someone were to reverse the spell, but in order to do so, someone else would have to be sacrificed, and that's not a price I would wish on my worst enemy. That and Donnie burned the book when shit started to come after him, saying he had to get rid of the source."

The room is stunned into a silence. Stephen, suddenly creates a portal, and everyone can see it's to the sanctum. He reaches an arm through and pulls out a book. The very book he copied from that day. He reads over the book and notices one of the pages had a corner creased over, almost like a place marker. He reads over the spell and sees that it's the one she was talking about.

"I'm sure I can reverse the spell. Some way I can do it-"

"No, it's irreversible any other way. It has to be done in a specific way otherwise, you wind up sacrificing yourself. I'm stuck, but I've spent my time being as productive as can be."

"That's no way to live," Wanda says softly.

"It's not living, it's being. I just exist at this point. I've stopped creating real connections with people that really mattered because I was outliving everyone I cared for. I exist carefree and for me, and that's how it'll be until the end of time."

Tony was quick to call the meeting to an end so he could get to figuring out what to do with the woman. Is she younger than him? Is she older? How does it even work? Peter goes over to Michelle and explains everything that happened and Peter could now proudly say, he's seen her dumbfounded for the first time in his life. Ned is quick to ask Y/N questions and everyone else joins in on asking her questions.

After Peter finishes explaining the situation to Michelle, he goes over to Y/N and saves her from the group of people crowding her. She feels Peter's soft hand wrap around her arm and gently pulls her away from the crowd while muttering something about giving you space. Once out of the crowd, Peter takes her over to where he had her hiding at before Stephen and Carol had arrived.

"So," she begins once Peter lets go. "You fell in love with me?" she asks, chuckling at the end of it. Peter blushes as he waves a dismissive hand.

"N-no, I j-ust th-"

"Hey, I think it's cute. We should probably get some lunch or some dinner sometime, get to know each other better," she says softly. Her eyes cast upon Peter's timid form and she feels her heart rate pick up. Peter nods eagerly, excitement bubbling in the depths of his stomach.

"I think you're cute!" Peter suddenly blurts out when Y/N turns to go back into the conference room. She stops in her steps and turns to look at Peter. She walks over to the young man and presses kiss to his cheek.

"I think you're cute too."

Please leave feedback or send in requests! Also, please send in asks or come talk to me about anything!!

[ainstgirl]

THE SOLDIER AND HIS CAPTAIN  (5/6)

Summary: It’s your first day at the academy where you’ll become a soldier.  The academy is already difficult but even more so when you are a woman and you have Sergeant Hanks as Captain, luckily another captain will help you overcome the challenges. I’m very bad with  summaries, just give it a try.  English is my third language so im sorry if there’s any misspelling.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

"Come on guys 5 more laps" You hear Steve say. You can’t help but smile every time  he follows your movements and then looks at the ground "good job, that's all for today" Everyone runs to the showers while you tie your laces slowly to buy some time. "soldier" he says pproaching you. "Captain" you say biting your lip. "I've looked at your schedule and you're free this afternoon, do you feel like going to the town for a drink?" Steve says looking at your lips. "sounds perfect" you smile. "I'll wait for you at the bar" he winks at you before going to the showers.

You had a date with Steve Rogers... You were still smiling when you entered your room. What excuse were you going to give Lily? "Hey Lily I know we had plans for today but..." you start to say. "i know but I think I have a fever" she says interrupting you. "ohh then I'd better leave you alone to rest" you say quickly trying to hide your smile. "yeah... i dont want you to get sick because of me but, where will you be this afternoon?" she asks. "training, you know" you answer quickly. "good..." she says. "good...I'm going to take some clothes and I'll change somewhere else so I don't bother you, I'll see you tonight" "perfect" Lily coughs "I'm going to sleep now"

Leave the camp has been easier than you thought, the town wasn’t far away so in a few minutes you were at the bar's door. Suddenly you were nervous but there is no turning back, so you push the bar door and enter. You don’t see Steve at the bar so you sit at one of the tables while you wait for him. "excuse me, is this seat taken?" Steve says with a big smile. "apparently my date is late so... all yours" you joke. "Lucky me" he sits in front of you. "Are you sure that nobody that we know comes here?" you asks. "I've been coming here for weeks and I haven't met anyone from the camp" He says before ordering a few drinks. "Didn't you say that you couldn’t get drunk?" you asks. "That doesn't mean I don't like the taste" he says before drinking. "true...so about last night..." "you regret it?" he asks. "no... of course not..." you grab his hand "It's just that it's not easy to act as if I hadn't kissed you when we are in front of others" you explain. "i know but if they find out about us, they will expel you. You are a great soldier, I can't let that happen to you" he says before giving you a short kiss "let's dance" He says offering his hand. "what? here?" You look around, there were some couples dancing "everyone is going to look at us" "nobody knows us, come on" He insists and how are you going to refuse to dance with him? So you accept. He puts his hands on your waist just like he did the night before "you are blushing" he says with a smile.

"I'm not used to dancing like this and least of all in front of people" You put your head on his shoulder. "I'm a lucky man, you have already danced with me twice" he caresses your back. Dancing wasn’t your thing but if you could be so close with  Steve, you would dance all night.. After dancing for a while you sit at your table to rest when someone comes through the door. "oh my good, don't look" You say trying to cover your face. Steve was confused but then he hears a voice. "Steve Rogers with a date" Sam says. "shh... what are you doing here?!" Steve says looking around in case there was someone else with him. "I just wanted to have a few drinks and who is this beautiful girl?" he asks. "I..." You didn't know very well what to say when you see another familiar face enter through the door "Lily?" "Y/N? what are you doing here..?" he stops when he sees Rogers "oh my good" "I see that you no longer have a fever" you say with smile. "yeah... i feel beter now" Lily lies. "wait... you and Sam?" She nods with a big smile on her face. "You don't mind if we sit with you guys do you?" Sam says making you sit next to Steve while they sit in front of you. "when did that happend?" you ask. "last night when we were in the mission, and what about you guys?" Lily explains. "same i guess" you admite. "Well, we were leaving so..." Steve says this time. "were we?" you asks. "yeah, well i guess i don't need to say this is a secret right?" he says and Sam and Lily nods. "Good" Steve takes your hand leaving the bar.

"Did you have any idea about them?" you ask Steve. "no, he told me that he likes her but i had no idea" "she told me that she had a fever and that we couldn't hang out this afternoon" You both smile at the situation "Now that they have taken our place in the bar, where are we going?" you say while Steve lay his arm over your shoulders. "lets take a walk, I will drive you to the base later" he offers.

Five minutes later you were in his car kissing him "I thought we were going for a walk" he says while he kisses you. "we walked to you car" you say and he smiles. "i hate to say this but we should go back" "no... can we just stay here forever? i don't want to go back and not being able to kiss you" "trust me I would love to stay here with you, but tomorrow you have training, and i have a mission" he adds. "mission? can i go with you?" that way you could be far away from Hanks. "I have already been assigned to Michel" he didn’t look sad. "it's okay, maybe next time" you add. "yeah... maybe, let's go" He says caressing your face. "if there is no other choice..." You say kissing him one last time.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about Sam" You say when Lily enters your room. "I can't believe you didn't tell me about Steve Rogers" She says and she was right, you can't get mad with her. "fine, but you are like... dating?" "we are having fun" she can't hide her smile when she talks about Sam "What time do you leave tomorrow?" she asks. "what are you talking about?" "your mission with Steve, Sam told me about it" she adds. "i'm not going, they assigned Michel to that mission" you explain. "but Sam told me that they had recommended that you go with him since the last mission was a success" she says. "i don't understand" you say before running out of your room.

"You liar" you say as soon as he opens the door. "Y/N? what are you doing here, someone can see us" He says making you enter his room. "you told me that Michel has been assigned to the mission but you choose him" you acused him. "Y/N... It's a dangerous mission and I don't want to put you in danger" he explains. "i'm a soldier, that's my job, i choose to be here....to help people" you say angry. "i know...i just wanted to protect you" "why? because i'm a woman? i work very hard to be here and..." You were shouting without realizing it. "i didn't want to put you in danger because i love you" He says interrupting you. "you... love me?" you say surprised. "i...well i just...." he starts to say but you kiss him before he can say anything else. "i forgive you but don't ever do that again" you say and he smiles before kissing you "i should go..." you say between kisses. "you should" he says guiding you towards his bed. Before you know it, your clothes are already on the floor next to Steve's pants.

PART 6

MASTERLIST

[inawickedlittletown]

Walking The Wire (166/167)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Sixty Five

-

“I’m a really big fan,” Peter said. 

Thor was really really tall. He was also more muscular than Peter had expected when standing up close and yet there were his biceps. May was right about them being something to admire because they were huge. All of Thor was kind of just big. Even, it seemed, his personality. Maybe that just came with the territory of being a god. 

“I’ve been told that, Peter son of Stark,” Thor said. “You have your own fans, I hear.”

“Um, I guess so--”

Sam next to Peter chuckled. Peter glared at him. The reception was in full swing. There was music playing -- something from the eighties because Quill had decided that he needed to have some input with the music but no one really seemed to mind. His dad and Steve were dancing. Everyone was still eating or finishing up and Peter had finally had his chance to meet Thor. At last.

“So is it true that only you can wield the hammer? Well, the axe now?” 

Thor nodded. He didn’t seem at all bothered by Peter talking to him and asking questions. 

“Only someone worthy can lift it,” Thor said. “Would you like a try?” 

Peter shook his head at once. Eyes wide. “No. No. I don’t think I could--”

Thor chuckled. “All the Avengers tried once. Your father came close.” 

“My father? Really? What was he wearing the armor while he tried or something?” 

Thor chuckled. “Not that father. The other one.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, I could see Steve maybe being able to do it.” 

It would have been fitting, too, Peter thought. Steve was probably worthy. 

Peter asked Thor about the other Asgardians and how they were settling into Earth and it was nice to listen to Thor explain how different “Midgard” was to his home planet. But it seemed like his people were settling in fine. 

“They have Valkyrie, she’s a good leader,” Thor said. He motioned towards the Asgardian that was currently playing some sort of drinking game with Rocket and Quill. 

He talked to him for a while and Thor seemed entertained by Peter even after Dr. Banner joined them. Peter was also quite star struck by the mild mannered Bruce Banner and Peter had a whole lot of questions to ask him that were more science related and he could tell that Dr. Banner was curious about him and his powers. 

“You’ll just need to stop by my lab sometime, Peter, I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about.” 

“Yes. Definitely. I’m so down for that.” 

He only left them when he spotted Ned waving him over.  Ned and Michelle were sitting with May and Pepper and Happy. It was in many ways the most normal table at the reception. May still got on really well with Pepper, and they were mid-conversation when Peter approached the table. 

“Hey,” Ned said, “were you just talking to Thor? That is so cool.” 

Peter laughed. “Yeah, it kind of was. He’s very different but nice.” 

“So, the crush will remain alive and well,” Michelle said with a smirk. 

“It’s not a crush,” Peter muttered. “I kinda -- no, it’s not important. Are you guys having a good time?” He pulled a chair from another table to sit down between them. 

“We are,” Michelle said. “I am. This has been -- I never expected to go to anything quite like this.” 

“Nor I,” May said, but she was smiling. 

“It’s a crazy world the one that Tony Stark inhabits,” Pepper said. “Never a dull moment. I don’t know how Steve’s going to deal with it.” 

Bucky happened to be passing at that moment and he stopped. “Stevie is just as much of a mess, that’s how. They’re kind of perfect for each other.” 

They really were. When Peter looked for them, he spotted them at their table and they were talking to each other. Steve laughed at something and his dad smiled and there was just so much love and fondness in their eyes when they looked at each other. It was kind of amazing to see two people so in love. 

---

When we met, I didn’t see you. But when I started looking, I couldn’t stop seeing you. You make the world brighter, Tony Stark, and I selfishly want to keep you forever. You gave me a home, a family, and a future. I love you. I will always love you. 

---

The whole of it was a success. Tony had had a few doubts with the rain and then with Pepper having the bad news that their DJ cancelled. But in the end, everything turned out fine. As Friday predicted the rain stopped and then Peter Quill had stepped up and dealt with the music and somehow nothing went amiss. He and Steve were married and Tony was happier than he could ever remember being. 

All his friends -- his family -- had come. Scott and his ex-wife, wife’s new husband, and daughter. His girlfriend Hope and the Pyms. Clint and his brood. A lot of the people that Tony actually respected from SI including Agent and Sharon Carter -- although she wasn’t really Shield anymore these days. All the of The Avengers. The Guardians of the Galaxy. T’Challa and Shuri. Even Strange and Wong had shown up. Fury and Maria Hill had made it and Carol had returned from space just in time. 

“This everything you wanted?” he asked Steve as they slow danced. 

Steve was a careful dancer, wary of stepping on Tony. Wary of skills that he thought he didn’t have even though he moved more like a dancer than a fighter when in the middle of battle. It was a matter of how he seemed to overthink his every step. He didn’t trust himself. 

“You are everything I wanted,” Steve whispered. “This is just nice -- having everyone here.” 

“Sappy. You’re getting sappy in your old age, husband.” 

“I am not the oldest one in this relationship, husband,” Steve said. 

Tony tutted at him. “Just because you were in ice,” Tony whispered back. “Something I will always be grateful for.”

“Is it everything you wanted?” Steve asked. 

Tony shrugged his shoulders and he spun them, looking around at the other dancing couples. Clint and Laura. Scott and Hope. Natasha was trying to get Nebula to dance with her to not avail. Gamora was over in a more secluded area with Quill. Then there was everyone else mingling around them. Pepper and Happy laughing at a table with Rhodey. He spotted Peter with his friends. Thor was talking to Shuri and Tony would have loved to know how that was going. Then, he spotted May talking to Bruce. 

“Yeah. You at my side. All of our friends. Our son.”

Steve’s eyes met his. “Our son,” he repeated. 

Tony kissed him, chaste and quick. He pressed their foreheads together. “Steve, you jumped off a cliff to bring him back to me even though you had no idea if you’d survive it because you love him just as much as I do. He’s yours too.”

Steve smiled and nodded. They’d discussed it before a few times,but it was nice to bring it up again. “Yeah, he is. We talked about it before the ceremony.”

“Of course you did. He loves you too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t think I needed to hear it from him, but when he said it, it was one of the best feelings in the world.”

Peter laughed from the table he was at -- joined by Bucky and Sam -- and for a while Tony just watched him and he remembered once not expecting to ever get to meet or be a part of Peter’s life at all. But he had met him and formed a relationship with him. He’d brought him back after Thanos snapped him from existence. 

Steve kissed his temple and pulled at his hand. Tony followed, walking beside him towards Peter who immediately got up and hugged him first and then Steve, staying between them for a moment once May got out her phone to take a picture. 

“Be sure to send that to me,” Tony said. 

“Of course,” May said. 

When Peter moved away, again, Tony drifted closer to Steve, pressed against his side. Peter glanced back at them and Tony just smiled at him and then looked to Steve again. He was so so lucky. 

---

I once thought I’d be alone forever. I didn’t think I’d ever even meet my son much less someone I would want to share him with. Not until you, Steve Rogers. There are no words to describe the relief I feel at having you at my side. This is for as long as the universe allows and even beyond that. I love you. 

---

The rest of the night went well. There were speeches at some point and Peter could tell that Bucky had gotten into some of Thor’s Asgardian mead because he seemed a little drunk when he gave his.

“Super soldiers aren’t supposed to get drunk, are they?” Ned asked. 

“No. Not unless it’s alien mead.” He motioned towards Thor and the other Asgardians. 

Rhodey had given a best man’s speech too -- a more coherent one. Peter really intended to spend more time with him and ask him about stories about his dad when they were both in MIT because he knew they had to be good. And despite officiating the wedding, Pepper had had a few things to add to Rhodey’s speech as well. Peter was just glad that he didn’t have to make one. 

All in all, the wedding was perfect. It was towards the end of the night that his dad got up to talk. 

“I want to thank everyone for being here. It’s been a long few months for a lot of us but the world is finally set right and we can only hope that it will remain so. Today I married the love of my life -- a man for another era entirely and one I’ve loved and hated my entire life. He brings out the best in me and I hope I do the same for him. And I’m just glad I get to share this with all of you. With my friends, my teammates, and our son.”

He paused them, to glance around at everyone. 

“My dear husband and I are going to take off, now, but the party can keep going. There is a lot to celebrate and plenty of cake.” 

Before leaving, his dad and Steve stopped where Peter was standing with a plate of cake. 

“Have a good night,” Peter said and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Don’t be cheeky, child,” his dad said.  

Peter hugged his dad first and then Steve.

“I’m really happy for you,” Peter whispered. 

His dad kissed the top of his head. “Love you kid. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The party kept going after they left. Thor and the other Asgardians were still drinking. Quill kept up his playlist and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Peter spotted Natasha dancing with one of Clint’s kids. Scott was dancing with his daughter. It was cute. 

“This was nice,” MJ said. “Thanks for the invite.” 

Peter nodded. “I’m glad you came. Did you--” he motioned at the dance floor, “did you want to dance? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t, but there’s really nothing else to do and I think May said we’d be leaving soon too so--”

MJ grabbed his hand and Peter trailed off, his eyes widened and when he looked at her she just laughed and then tugged him along. 

“You ramble a lot,” she said. 

Peter didn’t know what song was playing because it was something too old for him to actually know, but it was soft and easy to dance to even if it still made him just a little nervous when MJ turned to him. But moments later, his arms were around her waist and her arms were over his shoulders and as nervous as it made him, MJ felt good in his arms. She smelled like something flowery. 

It felt like the moment lasted mere seconds but also forever and when it was over and Peter pulled back, he smiled at her and she smiled back. 

“That was...that was nice,” Peter said. 

“Yeah…”

It was awkward. Everything was just so awkward. It was lucky that Ned appeared then and he clapped Peter on the shoulder. 

“Good, found you two. May thinks it might be a good time to go.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “Yeah, sure.” 

Although his dad and Steve were going to some fancy hotel for the night and Peter had had the option to stay at the compound with Bucky and Sam and the rest, he’d decided to spend the night with May instead. He hadn’t gotten to see much of her since the first time he went to see her and it also meant spending a bit more time with Ned and MJ on the drive to Queens. 

May had insisted on driving instead of letting Happy pick her up or letting Doctor Strange bring them over through a portal, but Peter didn’t mind the drive. They found her soon enough. She was talking to Happy and Pepper and Peter was surprised to see how weirdly cozy they looked. 

He gave Pepper a hug and high fived Happy and then said his goodbyes to Natasha and Bucky but only because he saw them as they were heading out. He wasn’t sure how much longer the party would go for, but everyone still seemed to be having fun. 

“It wasn’t as overthetop as I thought it was going to be,” May said as they set out. 

Peter shrugged. “Pepper and the wedding planner had a lot to do with that. Also how fast they had to arrange things.”

“Well, it was nice,” MJ said. “I had a great time.” 

She met his eyes and Peter ducked his head and then they all got into May’s car. Ned told them all about how he’d managed to talk to Sam for a while and how cool he was and it was easy to let Ned just fill the silence. 

The topic of conversation drifted away from the wedding to other things eventually and everything just felt normal. MJ even tried to bring up decathlon. 

“We’re not even in school right now,” Ned said. “We don’t have to worry about it.” 

“I just want us to do well, Ned, and as captain that falls on me. All I’m saying is that Peter can’t slack off because of his spiderness.” 

“Hey! I went to all the practices last year.” 

“He did,” Ned said. 

After they dropped off Ned and MJ, Peter leaned back into his seat. He was actually feeling quite tired from the day and he wasn’t expecting for May to want to talk to him about anything. 

“You know, for a while there I hated that you knew the truth,” May said. “I didn’t trust Tony Stark to really know what was best for you. I figured he would take you away. I guess, well, he sort of did. But he also didn’t keep you away and after Ben -- I’m really glad you get to have him be your father. Your dad. And from the state he was in when you were gone, I know that he loves you and that he needs you just as much.”

“May, I--”

May reached over and grabbed his hand. “You have a big family, actually, and I’m really glad you do.”

Peter nodded, thinking about everyone at the wedding. Most of them he could consider family. A big superhero family and some of them weren’t even human. 

“I guess I do,” Peter said. 

---

“I don’t even want to know how much money you spent on this place. Especially when we could have just gone back to the tower seeing as no one is there.” 

Tony just chuckled. Steve had been nagging him about their post-wedding plans since he’d learned of them earlier in the day, but Tony wanted to end the night in style by which he meant with a surprise.  

“I really love hearing you put down all my romantic plans,” Tony said, but shot Steve a grin.

“I just don’t think it’s necessary,” Steve said. 

Tony nodded. “I kind of figured you’d feel that way. But have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you riled up over something that doesn’t even matter?”

Although Tony was in the driver’s seat, it was Friday that had control of the car and so Tony felt entirely safe turning to look at his new husband. “I did something a little crazy,” he said. 

Steve’s suit looked as pristine on him as it had in the beginning of the night and the way he looked at Tony was with a warmth fondness rather than any real annoyance. They were both so sappy and in love and it was kind of disgusting. 

“Crazy how?” Steve asked. 

“Crazy as in, Peter is right, and we do deserve to have a honeymoon. Even a small one. And if we do it in another time, then Peter won’t have a chance to get into any real trouble.”

Steve shook his head. “Tony, you’re...where -- no, when are we even going?” 

“Any time you want. Anywhere you want. As long as we’re together.”

“Together,” Steve said. “I like the sound of that.” 

-

Epilogue

[cicinicole-14]

jvsvau 1

So... its currently 4am... and I'm just posting this now. to clarify, Gus is the youngest of 4 kids in the Sloan family (including Sofia) and Shelly is the 3rd out of 4 kids in the Hunt family. anyway, they have so many more things I could talk about because Gus and Shelly have a very complicated yet adorable relationship. and hats off to @only-freakin-sunflowers for letting me steal a good chunk of the original fic this story belonged to. this is technically the AU version of Shelly’s story, yet we created a whole life story behind it, oops? anyway, enough rambling... 

if you want to know more about Gus, Shelly, or their families, feel free to leave some requests! @only-freakin-sunflowers owns Shelly and the Hunt fam, and I own the Sloan fam. if you have any questions about them too, we will be happy to answer! onto the fic! 

also: these really don't have titles, sorry. and they’ll be numbered if I keep posting them but by no means are in chronological order... 

Everything was all lined up. It was going to be picture perfect.

On August 31st, when Shelly went into labour, Laurie and Roger Chapman were to meet her at the hospital, and once the baby was born, nurses would hand it over and it would be theirs. Forever. Shelly would never know it’s gender, or it’s name, or what it looked like or acted like or grew up to be. Her baby would be out there in the world, without her. That’s what she had chosen.

But her baby would be okay, he or she would have Laurie and Roger. Her baby would have an actual father in Roger. And Laurie would be a better mom than she ever could; she was a teacher, and a Christian, and she baked, and she liked to garden. On paper, she was your stereotypical, storybook mother…

“Augustus, you home?” Shelly calls into the apartment as she squats down and places the spare key back under the welcome mat outside and stands back up.

“Living room!” He responds, watching her appear from around the corner of the hallway.

Shelly walks over to the couch and plops down not-so-gracefully next to him as he’s typing away on his laptop. “Work?” She questions. He shakes his head.

“No, video game. I’m trying to finish up the one I was creating. I have a few more details to add into it but I can’t figure out what exactly I need to make it feel like it’s complete.” He muses and she shrugs her shoulders. “What were you doing today?” He asks, looking up at her.

“I’m bored!” She whined. “There’s nothing to do at home because both my parents are at work, Dee still kinda hates me and Evie’s back in school now.” She complains. “I was hoping you were home, and I seriously don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t home. Actually I probably would’ve went to your office to bug you, because I’m bored. Maternity leave is boring. This baby can just makes it’s way out any day now. That way I can get my body back and go back to work. I will be so much happier when that happens.” She rolls her eyes at the last sentence.

Gus laughs shaking his head. “Sometimes I don’t know why I’m friends with you.” He shakes his head. “You want something to drink?”

“Because you love me and yes, a beer please.”

“That’s not even funny, Michelle.” He says in a serious tone, turning and walking into the kitchen to pour hr a glass of ice water. He returned to the couch, handing her the glass and sitting back down next to her with his laptop on his lap.

“Thank you. Do you want to watch a movie?” She asked and he shrugs before picking up the remote.

“Sure, pick something, just–”

“I know, no scary movies and no movies where a dog dies.” She says taking the remote from him and flipping through the tv guide searching for a movie. “Oh, since I’m here we can finish catching up on Supergirl.”

---

“I still can’t believe Maggie just turned Alex down! That was so sad.” Shelly rants, watching her show. “I am so glad Alex finally told Kara she was gay,  though. Hopefully Maggie will come to her senses. Also, I still think Alex looks like your mom.” Shelly says, smiling at Gus.

“Not at all. If anything, Maggie looks like your mom.” Gus replies.

“No! For one, Maggie is Puerto Rican. My mom is not. Alex so looks like your mom. Now hurry and click play.” Shelly urges.

“I am… Shelly, did you spill your drink?” Gus questions, feeling the puddle of liquid seeping into his pants on the couch.

“No my water broke.” Shelly answered, shoveling popcorn into her mouth, too engrossed in the show. Her eyes widen and she looks at Gus. “OH MY GOD I’m going into labour! What do we do?!” She screams at him.

“How am I supposed to know? I’m the baby of the family. And please don’t yell.” He says softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just freaking out. I didn’t really think these were real contractions because my mom said they start out slow and light, and they have been going on since last night. I didn’t think anything of it.” She rambled on.

Gus stands up, helping Shelly to her feet before grabbing the redhead’s purse for her along with his keys and leading her out the door to head to the hospital.

“Shit, I need to call Laurie and Roger." Shelly groaned.

---

Gus walks her into Grey Sloan, one arm holding her hand and the other arm wrapped around her waist. He spots the Chapmans and can see the mixed look of excitement and worry across both Laurie and Roger’s faces. He walks up to the nurses station in the maternity wing of the hospital and helps her nurse get her settled in the room. Stepping out when she goes to change into the hospital gown.

Looking in the mirror, standing sideways to fully assess her grown belly, Shelly couldn’t imagine not being a mother in a few months. She already felt like one, if she was being honest; and while on the surface it looked like a horrible idea… she couldn’t imagine not following this through, not being there for the rest of her baby’s life.

But Laurie and Roger were just out there in the waiting room waiting for her to hand over her child to them. She had to do this, right?

---

Gus had been sitting with her, keeping her company as her labour progressed and got more intense as the hours passed. Shelly reached over, squeezing his hand lightly, knowing it would get his attention. Gus looked up from his phone and smiled, knowing something was on her mind.

“What’s up?” He asks softly.

“What if I could do it?” Shelly asks. “I always thought i just couldn’t keep this baby and I need to give it up for adoption, but what if I could do it? The whole ‘raising a baby’ thing.” She thought aloud.

“If you really wanted this, I think you could make it work,” Gus admits gently. “You can do a lot more than you give yourself credit for, Shell. You’ve been in and out of rehab four times now? You’ve had the effort to step back up to the plate and keep batting every time; you’re not a quitter, and you’re not weak. But you know inside what you can and can’t handle. Raising a kid is not an easy thing to do. If you really want it though, then you could do it.” Gus tells her.

“It’s too late though, Gussy.” She says with tears in her eyes.

“Have you handed over your baby yet? Have you signed the final papers?” He asked, a bit harshly.

“No.”

“It’s not too late, Michelle.”

“It is, Augustus. Laurie and Roger are right outside in the waiting room, waiting for me to pop this baby out and hand it over to them. It’s too late.” Shelly argued back, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“It’s not, Michelle, but I really don’t want to argue with you now. I’ll come back later.” He said standing up and leaving.

“Augustus, you’re seriously leaving right now?”

“I need to cool down, Shell. I need a minute. I’ll be back, I promise.” He stated, before walking out of her hospital room.

“Great! Now both of my best friends kinda hate me right now.” She stated, the tears falling harder down her face.

---

Amelia can see the pain across her daughter’s face. Not just physical pain, but the emotional pain of not having Dee or Gus in the room with her right now. Half listening to the obstetrician, Amelia picks up her daughter’s leg, as Shelly takes a deep breath, getting ready to push when the door swings open and crashes against the wall behind it.

“I’m here, I’m here I’m here I’m here,” Dee announces quickly, running into the delivery room. Shelly lets go of the breath she just inhaled and smiles, tears falling down her face again. “Gus called me, I’m sorry I’m late. He’s in the waiting room, by the way. He said he’ll see you after. He didn’t want to be in with all the loud noises.” Dee told her. Shelly just nods appreciatively.

Dee takes Amelia’s spot as Amelia leaves the room and Shelly looks up at the brunette with a smile. “Thank you for being here, still.” She whispers, inhaling a deep breath, getting ready to push again.

“You’re welcome.”

---

“You’re doing great, Shelly, just give me one more big push,” the obstetrician instructs. “One more big push” turned into six, but then, there was a cry, and when Shelly looked up, she saw Dee smiling. “Do you want to see the baby?” the OB asks.

Shelly shakes her head. She was wordless, with everything that had happened, and everything that was still happening, but she shakes her head. She can’t; if she gets to see the product of these long nine months, all the nights she’d spent awake thinking and questioning and crying… she would never want to let it go. And she had to let it go.

“Will you go let my mom know she’s a grandmother to a child she won’t ever know about and let the Chapmans know they have a kid now?” Shelly asks Dee. Dee nods. “And go see the baby, i know you want to. You can hold it, if they let you, and take Gus with you too, i need a minute to myself.” With that, Dee gives Shelly a smile and walks out of the hospital room, following the nurse pushing the tiny basinet.

---

Dee stayed in the nursery with the baby, Gus and the new parents oogling over the new baby until Shelly was moved from the delivery room to recovery. She comes back in awe, with a smile on her face, trying so hard not to show it. She doesn’t want Shelly to feel bad. “She’s beautiful,” Dee says simply. “She’s got red hair just like you…”

“It’s a she?” Shelly asks, a little bit of sadness mixed with shock in her voice. She hadn’t wanted to know she was abandoning a little girl in this world. Dee realizes her mistake instantly, her mouth slightly agape as she tries to figure out how to fix it. “Uhhh… no….”

“It’s a he, then?” Shelly asks again, this time more sadness in her voice. She hadn’t wanted to know she was abandoning a little boy in the world either.

“Uhhh….no….” Dee repeats again.

“It doesn’t have private parts and it’s an alien?” Shelly asks, this time she’s crying. Not about her genderless alien baby, not in particular, just about everything. Dee can’t help but laugh a little. “It’s not an alien Shelly, I’m sorry,” she comforts her. “It’s a girl. I didn’t mean to tell you.”

“It’s okay,” Shelly whimpers, wiping her eyes.  

“I’m so proud of you,” Dee says as she sits down on the edge of the bed and leans in for a hug. “I’m so, so proud of you.” She says again.

Shelly closes her eyes, trying to conceal the tears. “Dee, can I have another minute alone?” Dee stands up from the bed, nodding.

“No problem. I’m going to go find Gus for you, but I’ll give you some time first. Anything you need?” She asks before she leaves but Shelly just shakes her head.

---

The door to Shelly’s room opens up again, not even five minutes after Dee leaves and Shelly doesn’t even open her eyes. “Gus, Dee said she would give me a few minutes before she found you and sent you over.” Shelly breathes.

“I’m not Gus, but I can come back.” The social worker says. Shellys eyes open as she recognizes the voice.

“No, wait, I need to talk to you.” Shelly says, sure of her next statement.

---

There’s a knock at her door and Shelly looks up as he walks in. Gus raises his eyebrows as he sees the sight before him. There was Shelly, sitting upright in her hospital bed, her arm propped up on a pillow with a pink bundle cradled in her arms. “Gussy, I want you to meet Lyla.”

“Is that what Laurie and Roger are naming her?” Gus asks, walking over to the side of the bed.

Shelly looks back down at the baby, avoiding eye contact. She swallows and clears her throat before speaking up. “No. No that’s not what they’re naming her. They aren’t naming her because they aren’t her parents. I am. Because some stupid friend of mine told me it wasn’t too late to keep her, and now I have a daughter named Lyla, who has absolutely nothing, because I was planning on giving her up for adoption.”

Gus just stares between the baby and Shelly, a smile spread widely across his face. “Well, who would do that?” He asks innocently. She elbows him with her free arm, playfully.

“Can you go get my mom and Dee?” She asks.

“Can I hold her first?” Gus asks tentatively. Shelly gasps quietly, forgetting to offer that.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I forgot to ask you if you wanted to hold her. Here,” She said, passing over the baby. “Just support her head like that.”

Gus stared down at the little baby, smiling. “Hi, Lyla. Welcome to the world.”

---

“Shelly, what’s wrong?” Amelia asks, bursting into the room. “Gus said you needed us to come immediately.”

“Shhh.” Shelly hushed her mother as the woman walked in, followed by Dee and Gus, both women staring with their mouths hanging wide open at the sight. “She just fell asleep.”

“How’d this happen?” Dee asked, taking one side of the hospital bed, while Amelia stood at the other side and Gus stood at the foot.

Shelly looked up at Dee. “After you left, the social worker came in and was going to ask me to sign and I told her I couldn’t. I made sure it wasn’t too late and I told the nurse I wanted to hold her. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give her up.” Shelly said, looking back down at the baby. “Mom, Dee, I’d like you to meet Lyla.” Dee gasped.

“Lyla.”  Dee whispered, looking at Shelly.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Shelly said, wondering if Dee would hate that she named a child after her.

“Thank you. I love it. C-Can I hold her?” Dee held the baby, walking around the room, gently rocking the infant as Shelly looked up at her mom.

“I know I still live at home and I didn’t talk to you about this, but we have room. We can turn Charlie’s room into a nursery. Mom, I can’t give her up. I’ll make this work, I promise.”

Amelia just nods, with tears in her eyes. “I’m a grandma. Oh, your father is going to have a cow.”

---

“What if I break her? She’s too tiny, Gus, I can’t do this!” Shelly says frantically, laying the sleeping baby back onto the hospital bed.

“Will you bite my head off if I do it?” He asks and Shelly shakes her head, stepping back.  Gus steps closer, picking up the baby and laying her gently into the carseat and buckling it over her tiny frame. “There. Was that so hard? She didn’t even wake up.”

“Thank you. And thank you again for driving us home. Mom and dad both got called into emergency surgery and Thea couldn’t get off work.”

“You’re very welcome. Now into your seat.” He said pointing to the wheelchair. Shelly rolled her eyes and groaned in disgust.

“Why do I have to ride in this?” She whined.

“It’s protocol.”

“Both my parents and your parents work here and your parents own part of it, as well as my aunt and uncle, you’d think i could get away with not riding in a friggin’ wheelchair and embarrassing myself.” Shelly grumbled.

“Michelle, just humor me?”

“Fine, but only for you, Augustus.”

---

They made it back to the Hunt home, almost an hour later, because the whole way there, Shelly made Gus drive ten miles under the speed limit, but he did it to please her, anything to ease her mind of worry.

Gus smiled as he opened the back door to grab the carrier. “No heavy lifting.” He reminded her as she reached to grab Lyla’s carrier and Gus took it from her. She rolled her eyes but took his hand instead and walked into her house, leading Gus upstairs towards her room.

“Surprise.” Everyone whispered, lighting up Shelly’s face. Everyone was there. Her mom and dad, her sisters, Dee, even Jesse and Gus’s parents and siblings were there to welcome her home.

“We’re going to leave soon so you can adjust with the baby, we all just wanted to welcome you home.” Thea smiled, hugging her little sister. “Congrats, Shelly.”

Everyone filed out of Shelly’s room, giving her and the baby a minute to relax and for her to take Lyla out of the carseat since she woke up and began to fuss. She just finished feeding the baby when there wa a soft tap on the door and it opened.

“Everyone left, but we have one more surprise for you.” Owen told his daughter. Shelly carefully stood up and followed her mom, dad and Gus down the hall towards her brother’s room.  “Open it.”

She pushed open the door with one hand, amazed by the nursery. “Wow. How’d you do this so fast?” Shelly asked, walking in, admiring the crib and running her hand along the smooth wood. She peeked in the drawers, finding them filled with baby clothes and everything stocked full of baby items.

“You can thank this boy right here.” Amelia said, patting Gus’s back.

“You did this?” Shelly asked, still astonished. She watched as her parent backed out of the nursery slowly, shutting the door on their way out, giving them privacy.

“Michelle, you’re my best friend. You help me through all the rough times in my life, and were my friend when no one else was because of my condition. You’re always there for me when I needed you to be, I’m just returning the favor.”

“How’d you get all this though? You were with me in the hospital the whole time?” She questioned.

“I had it. I knew you wouldn’t be able to give her up. Michelle, you’re strong, but you aren’t strong enough to give your child away. You’re stronger for raising her. I knew you would.”

“You should’ve told me. Why didn’t you just tell me to keep her in the first place? This would’ve been a whole hell of a lot easier.”

“I couldn’t do that. This had to be your choice, your decision on your own terms. You had to decide to be strong enough to raise her. You can do this.”

“Thanks for believing in me, Augustus.”

“Always, Michelle.”

Shelly looked down at her daughter. “Welcome home, Lyla.”

But Laurie Chapman wasn’t her baby’s mother. She was.

this started from one of those sentence prompt things, this one was ‘OH mY GOD I'm going into labour what do we do?!’ and... well.... thus Lyla... aka kinda the beginning point of the AU part in this series verses Shelly’s original plan of letting the Chapmans raise Lyla. 

again, if you have any questions, let me know. any future pics posted in this verse will be tagged as below.

[tentori21]

SLBP My Playlist Master Post

The other post felt a bit unruly so I made this one so it’s a bit cleaner. The latest update is 07/15/2017.  Here’s my personal playlist so far. I’ve only been through 600/3,456 songs on my Spotify playlist though so this should fill out nicely soon!

If you want to get in on the fun, here’s the link to some song category ideas. http://tentori21.tumblr.com/post/162699614282/slbp-playlist-meme 

  Nobunaga

Reminds me of him: “I Want Candy” https://youtu.be/G6Vw9RGm1tM

Nobunaga to MC: “Everywhere to Me” Michelle Branch https://youtu.be/HLCasyAh7ic

MC to Nobunaga: “Spells” Orgy https://youtu.be/sG-yFf3SyWs

His go to song when he’s sad: “Annani Isshou Datta Noni” by See Saw https://youtu.be/uYcERWBQCXA

(Lyrics:  http://www.animelyrics.com/anime/gundamseed/annaniishoudatta.htm ) “We Used to be so close together but…” This guy is used to everyone betraying him, even people close to him. Yet, he soldiers on.

Reminds me of their story: “Ikusa” Wagakki Band https://youtu.be/Y5zj3dwNxJw

Song he’s embarrassed he likes: “Candy” Mandy Moore https://youtu.be/NkVsJGl5d6E

Act Two: “The Garden of Imperfection” Miro and A’Qila https://youtu.be/gobHCaQA3gI and “When Darkness Comes” Shelby Merry https://youtu.be/Z9–uTfjP2o

  Mitsuhide

Mitsuhide to MC: “Into your Arms” Capital Kings https://youtu.be/D_0B7POXzSQ

MC to Mitsuhide: “Resuscitate Me” September https://youtu.be/51vB15OgHrw

Divine Ending: “Sacrifice” Zella Day https://youtu.be/TAncvkA_-ds

    Yukimura

Yukimura to MC: “Way Back Home” Mako https://youtu.be/r2F6Ralr43I (bonus remix: https://youtu.be/TsTMAOpSGvY )

MC to Yukimura: “Anchor” Tritonal https://youtu.be/JkOXrWGjz_M (bonus remix: https://youtu.be/oyJBdlHFimE)

Reminds me of their story: “The Best Thing” Savage Garden https://youtu.be/R4lf0JRWW90

    Saizo

@yoolee Did a Saizo playlist! http://yoolee.tumblr.com/post/162825831547/slbp-playlist-meme-saizo

Reminds me of him: “Remember We Die” Gemini Syndrome https://youtu.be/kUHsY6gPCys

Saizo to MC: “My Hell” Aaron Richards https://youtu.be/viPofENEZZY

MC to Saizo: “Crucify” Emma Hewitt https://youtu.be/BicDOam1tUg

Reminds me of their story: “When you Wake Up” Dead by April https://youtu.be/ZkqdDgmnQDs I imagine this is more like the MC telling this to Saizo rather than the other way around but I could see it working for Saizo too. 

Saizo’s sad song: Taylor Swift and the Civil Wars “Safe and Sound” https://youtu.be/RzhAS_GnJIc

Saizo’s angsty song: “Redemption” Gackt https://youtu.be/LXp0v93ZRTs (lyrics: http://saishi-gackt.livejournal.com/17067.html )

    Masamune

Masamune to MC: “Curly Sue” Takida https://youtu.be/zRUxhEmzRzY

MC to Masamune: “Atonement” Anberlin https://youtu.be/8rD1zXSTnlc

Reminds me of their story: “Just a Kiss” Lady Antebellum https://youtu.be/v_yTphvyiPU

      Kojuro

Kojuro to MC: “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” Frank Sinatra https://youtu.be/C1AHec7sfZ8

Reminds me of their story: “All My Life” KC & Jo-Jo https://youtu.be/DXvMT_mVbqw

The event story where MC is gone for like 3 whole days and Kojuro is a mess: “Fall to Pieces” Velvet Revolver Seriously, this guy falls apart when MC is gone for a few days…

      Hideyoshi

Reminds me of him: “Just to be Somebody” Runaway Zoo https://youtu.be/fhBx-hW6hPA

MC to Hidyoshi: “Heartbeat Song” Kelly Clarkson https://youtu.be/d4_6N-k5VS4 (Bonus Remix which I personally like better https://youtu.be/VIxRDQVrC8I )

His go to sad song: “Hurt” Johnny Cash  https://youtu.be/vt1Pwfnh5pc (Another awesome version: https://youtu.be/lrEy46OkVXg )

      Toshiie/Inuchiyo

@hajeema Made a full Toshiie list! https://hajeema.tumblr.com/post/162988371821/slbp-playlist-meme-inuchiyo  

Reminds me of him: “The Jolly Roger” Vamps https://youtu.be/AV9UKkT9eLw

Toshiie to MC: “My Heart I Surrender” I Prevail https://youtu.be/4LiymHEuSOA

Song he sings in the shower/car: “Night by Night” Chromeo https://youtu.be/6XCcWlgVqHA (OMG the video reminds me more of Shingen though…)

Song that reminds me of their story: “Let’s Get Married” Jagged Edge https://youtu.be/9XwPCVvMcuE (Bonus Remix: https://youtu.be/Mo1HaVN1Pt0 )

Song he would sing in the car/shower: “Separate Ways” Journey

Angsty/Sad Song: “Calling” Dead by April https://youtu.be/9ycOIsMOTy8 I posted a lyric video because this song could really go either way, Sad song or Angsty Song

Toshiie to MC in Hideyoshi’s Route: “Fool’s Gold” Aaron Carter https://youtu.be/ugskNSdZbac

    Ieyasu

Reminds me of him: “Blue Monday” Orgy https://youtu.be/aJZTfl3DmCU

Ieyasu to MC: “Enjoy the Silence” Depeche Mode https://youtu.be/m0AKJMGxwpE  (Bonus version by my favorite band: https://youtu.be/cpD5695Kfis )

MC to Ieyasu: “This is Love” Cappa  https://youtu.be/wNHuolLp-RM and “Knife” Nola Wren https://youtu.be/e3xQvfQoCHQ

Embarrassed the he likes it/Should play for Mc but won’t: “I Really Like You” Carly Rae Jepsen https://youtu.be/qV5lzRHrGeg

    Mitsunari

MC to Mitsunari: “Stranger Ways” Anberlin https://youtu.be/E_yan51myNI and “On and On” Agnes https://youtu.be/tJJBajoexGg

Reminds me of their story: “Under Your Spell” The Birthday Massacre https://youtu.be/O-8IYWMltIg

    Kenshin

@lilmisscastle made a full Kenshin list! http://lilmisscastle.tumblr.com/post/162939754786/slbp-playlist-meme

Reminds me of him: “Birds of Prey” Anberlin https://youtu.be/gutxQBORnNo

Kenshin to MC: “Start of Time” Gabrielle Alpin https://youtu.be/yWcGtLblBxs

MC to Kenshin: “Glow” Tony Anderson https://youtu.be/-161eYBXnGY

Song the reminds me of their story: “Tsuioku” Wagaki Band https://youtu.be/6SIsSa23RAE (lyrics: http://www.jpopasia.com/wagakkiband/lyrics/289606/yasouemaki/tsuioku-%E8%BF%BD%E6%86%B6/ )

His sad song: “One” The Birthday Massacre https://youtu.be/zyYcS5kidhw

His angsty song: “I’m not an Angel” Halestorm https://youtu.be/TyAKdS3lk3Y

Kenshin’s Divine Ending: “Tears of an Angel” RyanDan https://youtu.be/gg4zxY1vF1w

His MC’s sad/angsty song: “Without You” The Birthday Massacre https://youtu.be/zRRUtLlQzQY

    Shingen

Reminds me of him: “Forever and Never” Cinema Bizarre https://youtu.be/FPShFK0g7qs

and “Animals” Maroon 5 https://youtu.be/qpgTC9MDx1o

MC to Shingen: “Stay with You” Clare https://youtu.be/XNnLewM6A7I

Sings in the Shower/Car: “Dance Like We’re Making Love” Ciara https://youtu.be/Fw_crqWYBCM

Go to party song: “All for You” Janet Jackson https://youtu.be/xvkblzKP29g

His angsty song: “As a Butterfly” Dead by April https://youtu.be/yfgGBpV0ARk He knew he was going to die before her, he always knew that…

His MC’s angsty/sad song: “Guernica” Brand New https://youtu.be/BJQv1WnRXD0

Chapter where they burn the castle down: “Chaos” I Prevail https://youtu.be/KrzWkeVHUJw

    Shigezane

Shigezane to MC: “You and Me” Lifehouse https://youtu.be/ac3HkriqdGQ

Shigezane to every woman Kojuro stole from him: “Don’t You Forget About Me” Simple Minds https://youtu.be/CdqoNKCCt7A (Bonus Cover version: https://youtu.be/zBdQVBJ34pw )

  Bonus Tracks

“Creatures of the Night” Menno de Jong (Ninja theme) https://youtu.be/OqS7CjkU6Yk

“The Heart Wants What it Wants” Selena Gomez (MC and Kotaro’s theme) https://youtu.be/ij_0p_6qTss

“Starstrukk” 3Oh!3 and Katy Perry (Kirigakure Yuki) https://youtu.be/4dUlhq-tc0I

“Release Me” Agnes (MC to Nobuyuki) https://youtu.be/0G7eDpMGe1k

[nuuribby]

ES Book 2 Connections/Theories

So after discovering Rourke’s Computer Password and the different constellations, I tried looking up the legends behind the different constellations to see if they connect anywhere.

This is what I’ve found... Your welcome to make your own theories based on this information. I have no idea what will happen in Book 2 but there are some similarities in the constellations and places where they connect.

Jake: Lupus (Wolf) and Raj: Centaurus (Centaur)

In ancient times, the constellation “Lupus” was a group of stars inside “Centaurus” and was considered to be an animal being killed or about to be killed for Centaurus.

If you didn’t rescue Raj in Book 1, is there a chance he’s out for vengeance and tries to kill Jake?

Michelle: Pavo (Peacock)

I thought this was interesting because its the story of someone who was unfaithful and cheated on their spouse. What’s also interesting is the Goddess related to the Peacock is known for her jealous and vengeful nature against Zeus’s other lovers.

Zeus lusted after a beautiful princess of Argos named “Lo”. Zeus turned “Lo” into a cow (How romantic!) so he could sneak her past his wife, Hera. (Hera is the Goddess of Women and Marriage and in Greek Mythology, The Queen of Heaven) Hera saw through Zeus’ trick and asked Zeus to give her the cow as a gift. It would be insulting not to so he did and then Hera banished Princess Lo and arranged for a creature with 100 eyes (Argus) to guard the pregnant Princess. Zeus asked Hermes to save Lo so Hermes killed Argus. Hera put his hundreds of eyes on the tail of a peacock (Her favorite bird).

Zahra: Corvus (Raven), Craig: Ursa Major (Bear) and Rourke: “Hydra”

Corvus is also a legend of unfaithfulness - Maybe it has something to do with why Craig & Zahra are no longer together? Also Corvus was cursed to be forever thirsty - Might that have anything to do with how much Zahra drinks? Or was that just a funny quirk?

Rourke is said to represent “Hydra” which a Hydra is also a sea monster but John H. Rogers said that Hydra signified Ningishzida, God of the Underworld. He said that Corvus and Crater (Along with Hydra) were symbols of death and marked the gate to the underworld. The name “ Ningishzida” translates to Lord of the Good Tree. He is depicted as a serpent with a human head ((Similar to Aleister!))

Also it’s worth noting that the legend of Ursa Major is ALSO about unfaithfulness. The wife of the one who cheated turned his lover into a bear so that she would no longer be attractive to her husband.

Quinn: Delphinus (Dolphin), Neptune’s Cove and Aleister: Serpens (Serpent)

A rich poet/court musician was traveling home with all his wealth but seeing all his wealth, the crew of the ship turned against him. Threatened with death, he asked to be granted one last wish which the crew allowed... He wanted to sing a dirge (Which is a song for the dead). After he did this he flung himself into the sea but before he drowned he was rescued by a dolphin that had been charmed by his music.

If this has any relation to Quinn... it would seem that the Poet accepted his death but before he died he was rescued.

In your suite you find a lover’s letter asking them to meet them at “Neptune’s Cove”

Neptune is the Roman name for Poseidon. Poseidon fell in love with a water nymph on an island and fell in love with her. She refused him but he was not discouraged. He asked his servant, a dolphin, to look for her. The dolphin found her, pleaded Poseidon’s case so persuasively that she changed her mind. As a reward for finding and returning the nymph, Poseidon immortalized the dolphin as the constellation, Dolphinus.

This doesn’t explain Neptune’s Cove but maybe Quinn will have something to do with it down the line.

---

Serpens was a snake held by the healer Asclepius. The healer once killed a snake but it resurrected after a second snake placed a revival herb on it before its death. Snakes shedding their skin every year represents rebirth in Greek Society - Legend says the healer would revive dead humans with the same technique he witnessed.

Could there be a relation between these two? Will Aleister find a way to heal Quinn?

MC: Andromeda (Chained Princess) & The Sea Monster

Andromeda’s parents said that she was more beautiful than the Nereids so Poseidon sends a sea monster to ravage their city as punishment. Andromeda’s parents are told that the only way to get the sea monster to leave them alone is to chain Andromeda to a rock and offer her as a sacrifice. Luckily she is rescued by Perseus who marries her after.

Maybe there’s some connection between MC and the Sea Monster?

Also it’s mentioned that this story is an example of the “Princess and the Dragon” Motif which is the popular, “Princess in trouble... Needs rescuing from a dragon or other scary monster... Prince saves her.” But the reference to the word dragon could have some tie to Draco/Estela especially since there are scenes you can unlock where Estela admits to having previous memories with MC but can’t remember anything but bits and pieces. 

----

That’s all I found. Poor Diego’s by himself... His constellation represents a hunting dog and the only thing Sean had in common was he was mentioned on the Wiki page of Zahra’s constellation but only briefly.

Were you able to come up with any theories based on these connections? If so please share them and tag me or comment!! I can hardly wait for Book 2 in July and love brainstorming new ideas!

[wherever-i-look-blog]

Darla’s parents come about and like when Lorna came to Louisiana, we are led to believe everything we were told is not true.

Previous Recap: Episode 12 “Live in the All Along” 

Director(s) Liesl Tommy Writer(s) Monica Macer & Davita Scarlett Notable Guest Stars Darlene Michael Michele Quincy Roger Guenveur Smith

Lupus: Aunt Vi

Lupus is the reason Aunt Vi has been sick. Something which is a bit devastating for her, as you can imagine. Also, it is something she tells no one this episode.

Let’s Take It Slow: Nova, Calvin, Charley, Remy

Calvin returns and is talking sweet nothings to Nova. Yet, if there is one thing she has learned from the people she damn near makes sound like rebounds, it is that what she needs is her freedom right now. Not sleeping with a bunch of random people or boo’d up. She needs to be with her community and falling back in love with that. For be it Robert, Calvin or the girl whose name escapes me, she is just not ready for them and what they want for her to be. In a way, she is just starting to discover who she is and what her place is. A task all of them, sort of desire to help with, but only as long as she ends up who they want her to be for them.

As for Charley? Well, she is experiencing something similar in a way. Remy, being that he has long since lost his wife, has had a few things on his mind. One being marriage and the other children. Two things which make it so Charley realizes they can’t be all cutesy and adorable anymore. Remy is bringing adult conversation. Long-term relationship conversations. Of which, despite saying Remy is important, Charley wasn’t necessarily thinking of.

Just when they were about to have sex, some pillow talk about forever from Remy throws in a monkey wrench.

From what it seems, she saw him as a kind of friend with benefits. One who gave her the support of a boyfriend, maybe even husband, but didn’t ask for much besides her respect. But with it now being clear he wants marriage, a family, and that not necessarily being a deal breaker but something he seriously wants her to think about, so comes a crossroad. Will Charley adapt to what Remy wants or stick with the path she is on? After all, Micah is damn near grown and while being married wouldn’t be horrible, she just got out of a marriage.

So, for now, it seems, like Micah and Keke, the two of them are going to take things slow. Now, as for how they mutually define that? Well, only time will tell.

Family Reunion: Darla, Ralph Angel, Darlene, Quincy, Blue, Aunt Vi

The Suttons come to Ralph Angel’s farm and they seem like nice enough folk. Darlene, Darla’s mom, is warm and welcoming. She even asks for little Blue to hug her – which of course he obliges. As for Quincy, Darla’s dad? Well, he is a bit awkward and cautious. However, as he reveals he did his research on Nova and Charley, it seems he is warming up a bit. Heck, even when Darla asks if they can make amends, he doesn’t give her a hard time.

Then again, it could be because Aunt Vi has been keeping in contact with them. You see, Aunt Vi reveals Darlene, during the time when Aunt Vi had custody of Blue, was sending monthly checks. Of which, you know Darlene wasn’t just sending money and not asking for updates. Heck, her rapport with Aunt Vi is so friendly that I wouldn’t be surprised if all Quincy knew came from Darlene and Aunt Vi’s conversations.

I mean, considering how dirty Darlene implies Darla did her and Quincy, maybe to the point of rocking their marriage, I’d believe Aunt Vi telling them the truth, noting Darla’s progress, might be why they came around. For while Darla claims it has been 6 years of silence, this came after who knows how long of back and forth moments. Calls when she was high and wanting money, was in pain, wanted to come home, or was threatening to hurt herself. The kind of calls which are calls to action but when they showed up, no Darla.

As you can imagine, that puts a toll on a person, a marriage, and the relationship between a daughter and her parent. Yet, again likely due to Aunt Vi’s secret communications, it seems like a time to heal. Of which, Quincy reveals it isn’t just with them that Darla has to make amends with. She also does with Ralph Angel. Someone she reveals may not be Blue’s father.

Other Noteworthy Facts & Moments

Ralph Angel made 20% more on the soybeans than expected.

Nova and Calvin mutually say they never got over each other. However, while Calvin makes Nova seem like the first decision he was never pressured into making, Nova thinks of Calvin as a prison. Something which would require constant explanation so she decides against reforming their bond.

It seems Darla’s drug problem started in high school – per her talking about seeing some high school friends and doing harder drugs than ever before.

Question(s) Left Unanswered

I speculated a lot but, how much did Aunt Vi tell Darlene? Much less, how did those monthly payments start?

Did Charley really think Remy wouldn’t, at least, want to get married?

Has Nova accepted she needs to be single and perhaps not mingle for a while?

How is this going to affect Blue in learning the people he has known his whole life may not even be blood relatives? Likely he will still see them as family, but with that family tree project, will he have a tantrum and rip it up? Maybe even get mad at Darla? It isn’t clear if he remembers any of the bad times, he likely doesn’t, but may he bring that up?

Where is Darla from because Darlene makes it seem they are not locals.

Collected Quote(s)

I believe in forever and I want you in mine.

Highlights

Darla’s Parents Threw Me For A Loop

Weekly, Sarah and I go back and forth and the topic we usually square in on is Darla and Ralph Angel. One of the things which has been seriously dug into is how Darla’s parents were going to be. One of the ideas which came about is that they’d be the opposite of Lorna. That is, someone who was touted as menacing in a way but ended up being mostly a sweetheart. However, with Darla’s parents, it was figured, at least by me, they would live up to their legend.

Yet, again that wasn’t true. In fact, the way Darlene puts it, and probably knows, Darla has outright lied on them. Not to imply they might not have been strict and had expectations, much less didn’t cut Darla off. But, it seems what Darla has said which has likely made masses of viewers think of her as an angel, while forgiving her past, was mostly a lie. The kind which, I don’t want to say was about garnering sympathy. However, that is what it kind of looks like. Hell, maybe even manipulation to a point.

Though, one could also see it as weakness. She burnt her bridges and poisoned the water with her folks. Seemingly to the point where it could have destroyed their marriage. She manipulated them while high and through their emotions about like some wild carnival ride. All of which was who the old Darla was. But does that mean we can, or should, easily forgive her lying on these people? These people she made seem abandoned her outright, didn’t know who Ralph Angel was, and barely knew Blue?

It is something which I find hard to say because, as noted in the comment section of a past episode, Darla has been allowed to be angelic on the show. Yes, she had her past but outside of with Kenya, she hasn’t had the same amount of bumps as Charley, Nova, or even Ralph Angel. She has remained this consistently likable and sympathetic character. Which now is brought into question.

Could it be, because of how weak and frail she was, she made it seem she was abandoned because she needed that sympathy to finally get better? Was seeming weak how she dealt with her guilt and as she built up her person, it was a crutch? Heck, could it be, when she hit rock bottom, the tough love of Aunt Vi was what she needed vs. her parents either flying across the country or just leaving her to the wolves? It is all so hard to pin down an exact emotion.

Aunt Vi & Her Secrets

Going all the way back to the Landry family formerly owning her family, Aunt Vi sure knows how to keep secrets doesn’t she? The problem is, damn near all of her secrets she only lets out after the damage is done. That Landry secret only came about because Charley was really seeming to put her foot down about selling her piece of the land. When it came to Lorna, until confronted, she didn’t say anything and that secret messed up Nova royally. So between her having Lupus and whatever deal she made with Darlene, you gotta wonder which will come out first?

The Cool Points Out The Window And You Got Him All Twisted Up In The Game

Nova notes she can’t be all of herself when with Calvin. Something which it seems she repeats no matter who she is with.

Excuse me for quoting Bringing Down The House [External] but I couldn’t help it. At this point, it seems Nova, Charley, and Ralph Angel are no longer in any sort of honeymoon period with any of their romantic relationships. For Nova, she keeps hitting these difficult conversations and increasingly seems unwilling to approach the idea of compromise. Before she could blame what happened with her mom but there comes a point you can’t use your parents as an excuse. You got to own up to the issues you allow to remain consistent in your life.

Leading to the question of: Will she finally take real time to heal? Be it sex or jumping into semi-serious relationships, Nova seems to have never really pursued being alone. Finding peace and joy in herself. It always seemed to be about one distraction or another. Anything to keep herself from being alone for more than one or two nights. You ever notice that? I’d even argue her investment in the community partly stems from her trying to avoid being alone when it isn’t on her own terms.

Then with Charley, I still can’t fathom how such an intelligent woman who I thought got to know Remy, would really think he wouldn’t want marriage. Also, didn’t he note he tried to have kids with his ex-wife until life got in the way? I mean, if they met now, after she got divorced, I could see her being taken back by what he said. However, these two have been talking for at least a year now. All of which have been flirty conversations. So don’t tell me she never thought of this man in a long-term fashion.

After all, considering how much Remy has done for the family and her, aren’t they damn near like a married couple anyway? If she didn’t see them as long-term, why note how important he is? Why so publicly kiss him in front of the entire community? I hope that wasn’t to get back at Davis over Tamar. Surely she can’t be that petty right? But, connecting Charley with Nova, who is to say Remy wasn’t a rebound like Robert and the other girl was? Just with Remy being someone who was much more of a beneficial partner.

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Leaving Ralph Angel. I don’t think anyone could argue that Blue has been the driving force behind his rehabilitation. Raising Blue, seeing that smile, and protecting him has been what kept Ralph Angel either on the straight and narrow or what helped people push him back on that road. So with the possibility he is not the father, so comes the question of if he even cares. He is more than 6 years in and signed the birth certificate. Though Darla’s parents may know, who else really needs or deserves to know really? Why mess something up which works?

But, lest we forget, Ralph Angel is a bit emotional. So while things may not change between him and Blue, the same can’t be said about him and Darla. For one of the reasons Ralph Angel went to jail was to help take care of that kid. So imagine, as you reflect, this kid being a few years old and you are robbing stores, risking yourself getting shot, to raise someone else’s seed. You lost years of your life, got a record now, because your lady relapsed and had some fun in DC with some high school friends.

Usually, when Ralph Angel has his moments it makes me roll my eyes but if he decides to go off, I can’t blame him on this one. Though, at the same time, I do wonder if his pride may lead him to keep this secret to himself like his name is Violet.

#QueenSugar: Season 2/ Episode 13 "Heritage" - Recap/ Review (with Spoilers) Darla’s parents come about and like when Lorna came to Louisiana, we are led to believe everything we were told is not true.

[strictlyfavorites]

Catherine Deneuve in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

Film Critic Roger Ebert -  Has there ever been an actress in the history of the movies who has changed as little and aged as slowly as Catherine Deneuve? Here she is in "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg," her first major film, made in 1964 and now restored. Thirty-one years later, I met her at the 1995 Cannes Film Festival. To the degree that she had changed, it was simply to ripen, to add experience and sympathy to the raw beauty of a teenager. I am not making empty compliments. Her beauty, then and now, is like a blow to the eyes.

When she made "Umbrellas" for the French director Jacques Demy, Deneuve was 20, and her work in this film was a flowering that introduced one of the great stars of modern French cinema. The film itself was a curious experiment in which all of the words were sung; Michel Legrand wrote the wall-to-wall score, which includes not only the famous main theme and other songs, but also Demy's sung dialogue, in the style of the lines used to link passages in opera. This style would seem to suggest a work of featherweight romanticism, but "Umbrellas" is unexpectedly sad and wise, a bittersweet reflection on the way true love sometimes does not (and perhaps should not) conquer all.

Demy's film was a worldwide hit when it was first released, but if its star did not age, its film stock did. Like many of the movies shot in the 1960s, it was released in a version of Eastmancolor that did not remain true to the original colors. The greens and blues lost their strength, leaving the film looking pink, as if it had faded in a bright sun. Demy regained control of the film a few years before his death in 1990, and I remember a summer day in 1989 when I sat with Demy and his wife, the director Agnes Varda, in the garden of their house in Paris, and they talked of restoring the film's original color. That task was finally finished by Varda in 1994, and now here is "Umbrellas of Cherbourg" again, looking as bright and fresh as on the day it premiered.

The story is a sad one, yes, but it ends on a note we can only conclude is the right one. (Do not read further until you see the film.) Deneuve plays a young woman named Genevieve, who is head over heels in love with a local garage mechanic named Guy (Nino Castelnuovo). Her mother (Anne Vernon) runs a little local shop and is desperately in need of money to save her business. A rich man (Marc Michel) walks into the shop, falls in love with the daughter and begins a slow, indirect process that might lead to a proposal of marriage. Genevieve has eyes only for Guy, but he is drafted for two years by the army. And although they pledge to love each other forever, she receives only one letter from him in two months.

[probinism]

After Skyfall and Spectre, the next possible James Bond film name has been named as No Time to Die which was supposed to be Eclipse. After Quantum of Solace, Casino Royale, Skyfall and Spectre, the 27th bond-film is expected to be Daniel Craig’s fifth and the last bond film. Going by the report the 25th Bond film is named as Eclipse which overlaps the news previously broke about the film to be Shatterhand. Now, No Time to Die is the finalised name for the film and expected to be released in April 2020

Production Weekly is a premium subscription data-service that delivers news and updates on film and television productions, even claims that the shoot for the film will starts on in June this year.

As for Spectre, the French actress Léa Seydoux is going to be the bond girls for the second time.

Started in 1962 with Dr No based on the 1958 novel by Ian Fleming the British spy film series took the public psyche by the first Bond actor Sean Cannery and actress Ursula Andress, a former Swiss television actress, model and sex symbol, who acted in various American, British and Italian films.  The film credited Sean Connery skyrocketing fame making him with an international sensation at his old age.

Sean Connery appeared in 7 films as James Bond, while Peter Stellers 1 and  George Lazenby appeared in only 1 film On Her Majesty’s Secret Service in 1969, legendary Roger Moore appeared in 7 films consecutively form 1973 to 1985, Timothy Dalton did 2 films, Pierce Brosnan appeared in 4 films as Daniel Craig already prepped in four films and No Time to Die (2020) is going to be his 5th and last film which is expected to be released in 2020.

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Ursula Andress starred in Dr No (1962) and Casino Royale (1967). Nationality: Swiss

Daniela Bianchi acted in From Russia With Love in 1963. Nationality: Italy

Honor Blackman in Goldfinder 1965 as Pussy Galore . Nationality: British

Claudine Auger in the bond-film Thunderball in 1965. Nationality: French

Mie Hama in You Only Live Twice (1967). Nationality: Japan

Diana Rigg in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969). Nationality: British

Jill St. John in Diamonds Are Forever (1971). Nationality: American

Jane Seymour in Live and Let Die (1973). Nationality: British

Britt Ekland in The Man with the Golden Gun (1974). Nationality: Swedish

Barbara Bach in The Spy Who Loved Me (1977). Nationality: American

Lois Chiles in Moonraker (1979). Nationality: American

Carole Bouquet in For Your Eyes Only (1981). Nationality: French

Kristina Wayborn in Octopussy (1983). Nationality: Swedish

Barbara Carrera in Never Say Never Again (1983). Nationality: Nicaraguan

Tanya Roberts in A View to a Kill (1985). Nationality: American

Maryam d’Abo in The Living Daylights (1987). Nationality: Dutch

Carey Lowell in Licence to Kill (1989). Nationality: American

Izabella Scorupco in Golden Eye (1995). Nationality: Polish-Swedish

Michelle Yeoh in Tomorrow Never Dies (1997). Nationality: Malaysian

Denise Richards in The World Is Not Enough (1999). Nationality: American

Halle Berry in Die Another Day (2002). Nationality: American

Eva Green in Casino Royale (2006). Nationality: French

Olga Kurylenko in Quantum of Solace (2008). nationality: French

Tonia Sotiropoulou in Skyfall (2012). Nationality: Greek

Léa Seydoux in Spectre (2015) and will be in 2020 bond film No Time To Die. Nationality: French

From Ursula Andress of Dr.No in 1962 to Spectre in 2015 there are about 76 bonds girls for whom bond usually has love interest or sidekick, a slang expression meaning a companion or colleague who is usually regarded subordinate to who she accompanies. A bond girl is typically at least ten years younger than the leading protagonist, James Bond. Even though there are more than one actresses with whom Bond has a sexual encounter there is usually only one main sidekick bond girl in each film. As we know in the last film Spectre the main sidekick was Dr Madeleine Swann (Léa Seydoux).

The bond girls are usually of the well-defined standard of beauty, as they always possess a wonderful figure and habitually dressed in a muscular and assertive fashion, with only a little jewellery of wide leather belts and square-toed leather exotic leather shoes. Defending on the variation of clothes the bond girls make their initial appearance in the films in evening garments, in bra and panties, or naked occasionally. Almost all of the actresses either femme fatale or main sidekick are of white complexion, usually sunburned skin due to exposure to ultraviolet.

Noticeably, the bond girls wear little to no makeup and no nail polish as well as they keep their nails short. Their hair may be any colour, though they typically wear it in a natural or casual cut that falls heavily to their shoulders. Their features, especially their eyes and mouths, are often widely spaced. Their eyes are usually blue and sometimes this is true to an unusual and striking degree.

Nevertheless, the world and the film lovers have yet another occasion to look forward to celebrating with great enthusiasm. As a film enthusiast, I can only tell you how hard it is to wait for a film which is to be released and nothing can be more awarding than to watch a much-awaited film, after all.

All the bond-films from 1962 to Upcoming one in 2010

Dr. No (1962)

From Russia with Love (1963)

Thunderball (1965)

You Only Live Twice (1967)

On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)

Goldfinger (1964)

Diamonds Are Forever (1971)

Live and Let Die (1973)

The Man with the Golden Gun (1974)

The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

Moonraker (1979)

For Your Eyes Only (1981)

Octopussy (1983)

Never Say Never Again (1983)

A View to a Kill (1985)

The Living Daylights (1987)

Licence to Kill (1989)

Casino Royale (1967)

Golden Eye (1995)

Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

The World Is Not Enough (1999)

Die Another Day (2002)

Casino Royale (2006)

Quantum of Solace (2008)

Skyfall (2012)

Spectre (2015)

No Time To Die (2020)

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Actors who appeared in bond-films as 007

The Scottish 6.2″ tall handsome actor appeared in 7 bond-films in between 1962 to 1983 with a host of other notable films. With deep Scottish accent, Thomas Sean Cannery was born in Edinburgh, Scotland on August 25, 1930. His father Joseph Cannery was a factory worker and truck driver.

His Bond films are Dr. No (1962), From Russia with Love (1963), Goldfinger (1964), Thunderball (1965), and You Only Live Twice (1967), Diamonds Are Forever (1971) and Never Say Never Again (1983)

The Australian-born actor George Lazenby was born on September 5, 1939, in New South Wales. The actor moved to London after serving in the Australian Army in 1964. Before he made his way to be an actor, he was involved in various professions such as automobile mechanics, selling preowned cars and a male model, in London.

Even though he appeared in only one bond-film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969), he acted in many TV series and films and was the highest-paid male model in Europe before his career as James Bond.

The legendary British actor Roger Moore also served in the British military during WWII. He was born on October 14, 1927, in Stockholm, London to a family of a policeman. His mother was born in Calcutta, India, to a British family.

Roger’s career as an actor started in 1953 in the United Stated with Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer. His role as James Bond started with Live and Let Die in 1973 in which he portrayed his predecessor Sean Cannery.

Live and Let Die (1973), The Man with Golden Gun (1974), The Spy Who Loves Me (1977), Moonraker (1979), For Your Eyes Only (1981), Octopussy (1983) and A View to Kill (1985) are the films played the role of James Bond.

For his services in UNICEF and Kiwanis International, Roger Moore was awarded Knighthood in 2003. He died of prostate cancer in Switzerland at 86, on 23 May 2017.

Born on March 21, 1946, Timothy Dalton was a trained Shakespearian actor who already made his career in television, theatre and films. Especially his role as Sir Laurence Olivier in Wuthering Heights (1970).  But the Scottish actor’s role as a James Bond started with The Living Daylight in 1987. Dalton, the green-eyed actor, officially resigned the role of James Bond on April 1994 hoping for fresh challenges and the role subsequently went on to Pierce Brosnan. The Living Daylights (1987) and Licence to Kill (1989) are Dalton’s acted films.

The Irish actor Pierce Brendan Brosnan was born on May 16, 1953, to a smith and carpenter family. His famous James Bond films are GoldenEye (1995), Tomorrow Never Dies (1997), The World Is Not Enough (1999) and Die Another Day (2002).

Was selected as one of the “50 Most Beautiful People by the USA magazine, People in 1996 and was voted as “Sexiest Man Alive” in 2001.

He was terminated from the role of James Bond because the producers did not want to renew the contract with him making him the only actor to resign not on his will.

The struggling actor Daniel Craig who had to toil in the restaurant kitchen as a waiter is one of the famous faces in the British theatre. From a teenage actor in the National Youth Theatre Daniel Craig rose up to be a much talk-about celebrity in Hollywood. He appeared in Casino Royale (2006), Quantum of Solace (2008), Skyfall (2012), Spectre (2015) and upcoming No Time To Die (2020)

Born on March 2, 1968, in England, he was raised by his older sister Lea as their parents split up in 1972. Daniel’s interest in acting grows stronger when he saw Roger Moore’s Live and Let Die when he was just five.

Being a film enthusiast I myself enjoyed all the rest 26 films from the James Bond series. I hope that Daniel Craig’s fifth and reportedly the last Bond film would keep riveted the film lovers eyes to the screen.

You may also like: Padmavaat Sustains the Da Vinci Code Fate

No Time to Die: The 2020 Bond Film After Skyfall and Spectre, the next possible James Bond film name has been named as No Time to Die…

[mrmichaelchadler]

Ebertfest 2019, Day 3: Sebastian, Cold War, Cane River, A Year of the Quiet Sun, Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion

On paper, Day 3 of Ebertfest might have struck some viewers as perhaps a bit dark and heavy from a programming perspective. After all, two of the films dealt with post-war romances that most assuredly do not live happily ever after, and a third was a long-unseen feature that essentially disappeared from view after the first-time writer/producer/director passed away a mere two months before it was set to have its New York premiere. However, to see them in front of the always-enthusiastic Ebertfest crowd turned each one of them into celebrations, not just of their own qualities but of the restorative qualities of cinema itself. Of course, it also helped that the long day of moviegoing was capped off by one of the most heedlessly goofy and utterly charming movies imaginable to send attendees out into the streets with smiles on their faces and any number of '80s-era hits rattling in their heads.

The day started out with a presentation of “Sebastian,” a short film by Sam Fragoso, who began attending Ebertfest several years ago when he was just in high school and now works as an author, critic and podcast host. Before the screening, he recounted his first Ebertfest, and how his father would not let him leave the theater until he went up and introduced himself to Roger. Not surprisingly, Roger took to him and encouraged him to keep up with his writing—while advising him not to disclose his age to avoid people dismissing his work sight unseen—and he certainly would have been pleased to have seen his short as well. The film, in which a Mexican-American almond picker narrates a letter that he has written to his son, is only three minutes long but it nevertheless packs a significant emotional punch. More impressively, there is not a single wasted moment on display—every shot is framed in just the right way and held for just the right length. The whole demonstrates a sure hand for the medium that leaves you curious to see what Fragoso does next. 

It is perhaps no coincidence that “Sebastian” prefaced the screening of “Cold War” since both films find their filmmakers grappling with the legacies of their own family sagas. In the case of “Cold War,” writer/director Pawel Pawlikowski (whose previous film, “Ida” (2013), screened at Ebertfest and won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film) was inspired by the tempestuous on-and-off relationship of his own parents to tell the story of the up-and-down romance between a conductor/musicologist (Tomasz Not) and the ambitious young singer (Joanna Kulig) that he discovers that is set against the background of the political and cultural shifts spreading throughout Europe in the post-war period. 

I named "Cold War" as one of the ten best films of last year, and being able to see it again, with its already extraordinary visuals getting additional luster on the giant screen at the Virginia, I found myself liking it even more. This is a film that is quite short—not counting the end credits, it only runs about 77 minutes or so—but it is certainly epic in regards to scope. Covering more than 15 years and set amongst a number of of European countries, it has the feel of a much larger work without ever being bogged down by anything that could possibly take away from the central story of two lovers who have undeniable chemistry (as do the two actors, both of whom are incredible) but whose relationship is forever being thwarted both by the winds of fate and their own basic incompatibility. The film was nominated for three Oscars this year—Pawlikowski was cited for Best Director and it was also in the running for Best Foreign Language Film and Cinematography—and as critic Michael Phillips pointed out in his introduction, it could well have been a serious contender to win the latter two if it weren't up against the juggernaut that was “Roma.” Phillips was joined by Carla Renata, a.k.a. The Curvy Critic, who recounted interviews that she did with Pawlikowski and Kulig in order to illuminate some of the film’s themes, and Nate Kohn, who mentioned that he himself spent some time behind the Iron Curtain during the '60s as well.

As you probably know, this year’s Ebertfest kicked off with “Amazing Grace,” a film that had gone unseen for decades but was well-known enough so that most attendees presumably at least knew something about it and its complex backstory. In the case of this year’s other so-called “lost” film, “Cane River” (1982, pictured at top) it is very likely that, outside of those connected directly with the festival, most sitting in the theater hadn't even heard of the film, let alone seen it. 

Set in Louisiana, it tells the story of a pair of star-crossed lovers whose burgeoning relationship is threatened by issues of class and color. Peter (Richard Romain) is a former local football hero who has just rejected an offer to play professional football (okay, the offer was from the Jets, but still ...) who has returned home with vague dreams of perhaps becoming a poet. One day, he meets Maria (Tommye Myrick), who is about to go off to college, and the two fall almost instantly in love. Unfortunately, this blossoming romance flies in the face of a long-standing barrier between Peter’s people, the lighter-skinned Metoyer creoles who used to own land and slaves back in the day, and Maria’s, the darker-skinned families who were used as slaves. Despite the disapproval of their families, their love continues to grow but the question arises of whether it can stand up in the face of historical precedent and the disapproval of both their families.

The film was the debut creation of Horace Jenkins, a former producer of such television shows as “Sesame Street” and “30 Minutes” (a children’s version of “60 Minutes”), who wrote, produced and directed "Cane River" independently. Nowadays, that might not sound that shocking but this was early enough in the evolution of what would eventually become known as the American independent film movement that it didn’t even have a name for it. Around that time, other maverick filmmakers like John Sayles and Victor Nunez were gaining notice for their similarly developed debuts, “Return of the Secaucus Seven” and “Gal Young’Un” (both 1979), and it is entirely possible that the same would have happened to Jenkins as well. Sadly, he died in 1982 shortly before his film’s premiere. After a couple of screenings, "Cane River" disappeared from view and languished for decades in the vaults of the DuArt film laboratories, until producer Sandra Schulberg stumbled upon it among the other 4,000 negatives that were left behind and became obsessed with the notion of restoring it, and was able to do with the support from the likes of Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences and the Roger and Chaz Ebert Foundation. After the screening, Schulberg appeared on stage to discuss the discovery and restoration of "Cane River," joined by Myrick, and Jenkins’ children, Sacha and Dominique, who spoke movingly of the unexpected chance to get in touch with their father’s creative legacy.

The next screening, “A Year of the Quiet Sun” (1984), served double duty by highlighting a title that Roger had admitted into his Great Movies pantheon and by serving as the focus of a tribute to the life and work of Scott Wilson, the actor who starred in the film and who had been one of Ebertfest’s most frequent and beloved guests before his passing last October. (This year’s edition has been dedicated to Wilson.) 

Like “Cold War,” this is a film that mixes together war and romance in ways that manage to come across as both sweeping and shockingly intimate. Set in 1946, Wilson plays Norman, an American soldier who has been sent to Poland as part of a commission looking for a mass grave of American soldiers executed by the Nazis. He has a lot of free time to wander around and one day, he comes across Emilia (Maja Komorowska), a war widow who is living in a bombed-out single room with her aging mother (Ewa Dalkowska) and earning a meager living baking cakes. Neither one speaks the other one’s language, of course, but some things are universal and the two fall instantly in love. Unfortunately for the two of them, the path to happiness has many obstacles—the mother is suffering from an infected leg, a man who appears to be a sleazy local official uses his vague position of power to inflict unnecessary cruelty on anyone that he can, Norman is haunted by memories of his own war experiences and Emilia, having spent years as a refugee before finally being able to return home, is uneasy at the prospect of leaving Poland again. Without going into too many details of what transpires, let it be said that writer/director Krzysztof Zanussi lets his story unfold in unexpected ways that run the gamut from heartfelt romance to powerful drama to even the occasional bits of humor. He hits every one of them dead on, aided in no small part to the powerhouse performances from the two leads.

After the screening, the festival paid tribute to the film and Wilson by having both Heavenly Wilson, Scott’s wife and a familiar face to regular attendees, and co-star Ewa Komorowska, who flew in from Poland and was accompanied by her grandson, Jerzy Tyskiewicz, who served as her translator. Obviously, Q&A’s involving a translator can sometimes be tough, but between Tyskiewicz’s charm and Komorowska’s delightful personality—the kind that needs no translation—it proved to be a relatively smooth experience. (It didn’t hurt that people struggling with translations was a running joke in the film itself.) Between the two of them and Heavenly, who teared up during her introduction following a montage of clips from throughout Scott’s career, and then delighted the audiences with a number of anecdotes about making the film in Poland, it proved to be a lively, and touching tribute to Wilson, whose spirit will no doubt continue to bless Ebertfest for years to come.

That said, all the films up to this point were a bit on the heavy side and it therefore came as a sort of blessed relief to conclude the day with the burst of pure cinematic cotton candy that is “Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion,” the wonderful 1997 comedy about two cheerfully goofy misfits, Romy (Mira Sorvino) and Michele (Lisa Kudrow), who have been best pals since high school, where they were ostracized by their snottier classmates for daring to march to their own drummers. Now it is time for their ten-year reunion and when they finally decide to go, they decide to cast aside their seemingly humdrum lives and show up pretending to be high-powered business executives who struck it big by inventing Post-It Notes. The film, inspired by a play by Robin Schiff in which Romy and Michele were only supporting roles, is not exactly profound—the deepest it gets is in its observation that most everyone was miserable to one degree or another during high school—but that does not make it any less funny or entertaining. Sorvino and Kudrow are both pitch-perfect in the leads—they correctly play their characters so that they embrace the silliness and vapidity of the roles instead of simply making them into airhead idiots—and they get great support from a cast of familiar faces that includes Alan Cumming, Janeane Garofalo and Justin Theroux.

“Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion” was directed by David Mirkin, who made his directorial debut with this film (his only other feature would be the underrated 2001 comedy “Heartbreakers”) and who is better known for producing such TV shows as “The Simpsons” and the program that may be the single greatest work of art in the history of the medium, “Get a Life.” Like his film, Mirkin lightened the mood considerably with a funny and occasionally rambling Q&A in which he discussed the production of the film, his occasional clashes with Disney over everything from the tone to the musical choices (at first, he recalled, they wanted him to drop a song by No Doubt from the soundtrack, only to then ask for additional cuts by them once they broke wide—alas, by that time, they were too expensive). He admitted that unlike a lot of high school-oriented movies, in which the oddball characters always found themselves gravitating towards the center in terms of acceptability, he wanted to do one that would “celebrate the weirdos.” At the end of the discussion, Mirkin even accepted the request of an audience member and sang the immortal “Spider-Pig” song that he wrote for “The Simpsons Movie,” a fitting end to a long and ultimately rewarding day at Ebertfest.  

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