#sbweek

Sam is grinning at Bucky like a dope. “Yeah,” he says. “You know it.”

Bucky’s fingers fuck into him slowly--too slow. “God, I wanna fuck you.”

Sam quirks an eyebrow. “How?”

Groaning, Bucky’s fingers move a bit faster, imagining all the things he could do. “Dunno,” he admits. “Hands and knees?” He kisses Sam, quick but by no means chaste. “That way I could watch myself fuck you.” His smile is tainted by the way his eyes glaze over. “Mmm. Whaddaya think, Wilson?”

Sam’s body is moving of its own accord, trying for more as he ruts himself on Bucky’s fingers. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, works for me.”

Bucky keeps fingerfucking Sam, loving Sam’s shuddering breaths. Then, he finally forces himself to stop. Sam has to give himself a squeeze to keep from coming. “Alright,” he says, and he frees his fingers carefully. He’s panting, too, and he’s barely been touched. Sam turns over and Bucky drapes himself over Sam’s back, whispers, “I’m so hard for you,” into Sam’s ear.

“Gonna give it to me?” Sam asks, pressing his ass back against Bucky.

Bucky bites his lip and exhales long and slow out of his nose, tries to keep himself calm. He shakes his head. “Yeah... Yeah. Shit. Just one sec.” He backs off and grabs the lube, his human hand shaking as he slicks his cock up. Sam wiggles his ass and Bucky laughs. He guides himself in, sinking in deep and pressing kisses to Sam’s back as Sam tenses up. “God, you’re fuckin’ tight, Sam.” He grabs Sam’s ass, then smoothes his palm over the curve of Sam’s hip. “Relax, huh?”

Sam rolls his hips back. “’M plenty relaxed.” He lets out a little gasp as Bucky’s hand slides lower, grabs his cock.

“Dunno,” Bucky says, making little unconscious thrusts as his body searches for friction. “Seems  like you could use some loosening up.”

Sam can’t see Bucky’s smirk, but he’s sure it’s there. “Ha.” He’s getting antsy though. “You gonna make jokes or you gonna fuck me?”

Bucky does let out a little chuckle then. “Well, if you insist.” He drags himself out just enough that when he slides back in, he can feel Sam’s ass clenching around him, pulling him in. He watches Sam stretching around his cock and groans.

Sam thrusts back, aching for more. “Think I made that pretty damn clear.” Bucky’s hand starts to move on him and Sam has to bite his lip.

Bucky fucks him in long, slow strokes, his hand stuttering and forgotten and Sam turns back as best he can to look. Bucky is distracted, watching the way their bodies connect, watching himself fuck Sam.

Sam is pretty sure that shouldn’t be as much of a turn on as it is for him. “Enjoyin’ the view?” he asks, lifting his ass, presenting himself for Bucky.

“Fuck. Yeah, Sam. Sorry.” Buck’s thrusts speed up and his hand on Sam’s cock moves in sync with the rest of his body. He leans over Sam and his metal hand reaches up to grab the headboard and Sam knows they’re going to have a hell of a time explaining that later.

It’s not like it’d be the first time.

Bucky is panting, hair falling over his eyes as he concentrates on fucking Sam. “Close?” he asks, and when Sam nods, Bucky fucks him harder, lets himself get lost in it. “’M gonna,” he says, and Sam is already anticipating it, his breath catching because he wants it.

Suddenly, it hits him, and Sam has to tense his arms to keep from collapsing as he comes, spilling over Bucky’s fist and onto their sheets.

Sam hasn’t even finished when Bucky is following him, the feeling of Sam’s ass clenching and spasming around him almost on the wrong side of too much. Almost overwhelming. “Sam. Sam.” He squeezes his eyes shut and he rests his forehead against Sam’s shoulder, hips still thrusting as he fills Sam up.

“Okay,” Sam says finally. “That was... Yeah. We need to do that again.” He hisses as Bucky pulls out of him. “Just, uh. Just gimme a couple’a days, huh? I didn’t get dosed with any special serum like some people.” He collapses onto his side, catching his breath. He grins at Bucky and it takes Bucky a second to actually see him, to grin back.

Bucky is sitting back on his haunches, but he leans forward, slides a hand over Sam’s leg. “You’re gonna make me wash the sheets, aren’t you?”

Sam shrugs, trying for a straight face. “Maybe. I mean, unless you wanna sleep on this?” It’s sticky under his arm, on his ass and thighs.

Bucky’s eyes light up and Sam seems to sigh in defeat, knowing what Bucky is thinking. “Guest bed?” Bucky suggests.

Sam closes his eyes, but nods. He’s tired. He should argue. He really should. It’s not like one fuck is enough to out Bucky down for the night. “Guest bed,” he agrees. When he looks up again, he raises an eyebrow at Bucky. “But you’re washing them tomorrow.”

Bucky nods, standing only for better leverage to scoop Sam up. “Uh-huh. Tomorrow.” He carries Sam into the bathroom and threatens to drop him in the tub, only lift him back up and kiss him instead.

It’s not like they ever actually run together.

Steve’s always too busy yelling “on your left” – when would he ever get over that? – and giggling as she watches his back disappear beyond her. And Bucky – if he isn’t popping up behind trash cans scaring the living shit out of her, he’s getting hit on by teenagers, little old ladies, guys in bike shorts, dads, and ... okay, everybody.

Sam doesn’t even like running. Yeah she does it but she does it begrudgingly and only because it keeps her fit and ready for battle. She doesn’t actually, god forbid, do it for fun.

So why is she letting two geriatrics torture her at shit o’clock AM when she could just run alone without all the hassle?

Bucky tucks his hair into a bun, his biceps flexing at the movement, and she nods to herself. Oh, that’s right.

She appreciates the pull of muscles for a moment before she looks away because damn is it embarrassing.

Sam is a responsible adult. Ninety percent of the time she has her shit together. She’s certainly not the type to get all weak in the knees for the first broody guy in a man bun who comes her way. Or jumps on the roof of her car and tries to put a bullet through her head. Whatever.

But the thing is, she’s watched Bucky go from a shell of a person to the work in progress that he is now and helping him get back to this place has been at times frustrating and difficult but it’s been rewarding too.

And that feeling of fulfillment has turned into something more. Something she can’t deny even though she wants to.

“I’m observing,” Bucky states, taking the water bottle from her and finishing the rest.

“Well, you’re about to observe my foot in your ass,” she retorts, falling back into their usual banter.

“I only do that on the third date.”

“You need to keep your weird kinks to yourself if you actually want to date sometime this decade, Barnes.”

“Getting dates isn’t a problem,” he says pulling out a crumple of phone numbers from the pocket of his jogging pants.

“There’s no accounting for taste,” she snarks.

Steve slows to a halt in front of them with a wide grin. “That redhead was cute. Kinda looked like Nat.”

Sam glares at him. Steve Rogers and his stupid super hearing was the bane of her existence.

He sees her look and his smile brightens. “Don’t you agree, Sam?”

The innocent boy scout look doesn’t fool her for one second and she smiles back at him sweetly. “I didn’t even notice.”

Steve winks at her and she considers strangling him.

Steve Rogers is a troll and while 95% of the time she loves it, she could do without the remaining 5% when he’s trolling her.

This is all her fault of course. She’d opened her big mouth during a drunken ramble at some party about her possible crush on James Buchanan Barnes and she’s been teased mercilessly about it ever since.

She’d hate Steve’s guts if she didn’t actually like him so much.

Bucky slips an arm around her and she keeps her face straight to hide how her pulse is racing. “You should have seen her, Sam. She had a— what is it the kids say, an as—,”

“Okay that’s enough,” Sam interrupts before he can get any further in his description.

“She was real cute,” he continues as if she hadn’t spoken. “But not as cute as you.”

Her heart foolishly stops for a second and her eyes jerk to his face.

He’s smirking at her. “You don’t think I’d ever use a line like that, do you?”

Steve bursts into laughter and she’s caught between wanting to smack both their heads together and wanting to laugh too. Because they’re both such dicks but they’re her dicks.

Figuratively speaking.

“I don’t know how you did things in 30 A.D.,” she says, moving out of his one-armed embrace to begin their trek back to her apartment. “I figured you just clubbed someone you found attractive over the head and called it a day.”

“History’s not your strong suit, huh?”

“Hardy har har.”

He falls into step with her as Steve walks ahead. “Back then if I liked someone,” he says contemplatively, “I’d just say, ‘Samantha Wilson, I’d like to take you out tonight.’”

Sam nods. “Generic but it does the job.”

“He’s asking you out on a date,” Steve says looking at her over his shoulder with sparkling eyes.

“Huh?” Sam’s sure she looks as baffled as she feels.

Bucky stops her from walking any further with a hand on her shoulder. Steve walks on.

“Sam, can I take you out?” he repeats and this time she notices the sincerity in his eyes.

“Oh.”

Oh.

“Yes,” she says before she can come up with a thousand reasons to say no.

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he says, eyes intense in a way that makes her pulse race.

Bucky’s teasing smile is met with Sam’s mock-consternation.

Bucky leans down to kiss her and Sam responds in kind, giving Bucky’s ass a playful squeeze in the process.

Sam breaks the kiss, feeling Bucky’s excitement and knowing that they’re already running too late for even a quick fuck. “Come on,” she says, walking to the door, holding it open for Bucky.

Once they make it down to the beach, Sam notices Bucky fidgeting, fixing her bun and biting her lip.

“You okay?” Sam asks quietly. They’re too far from the others or anyone else to be heard yet.

Bucky gives an abortive nod, murmuring back, “People are starin’ at me.”

“It’s not the bikini,” Sam assures. She twines her fingers through Bucky’s metal ones. “Pretty sure it’s the arm.” Bucky’s grip tightens almost painfully in hers, but she sees the effort Bucky exerts to stop herself, calm herself. “Hey,” Sam whispers, making Bucky stop to look at her. “Doesn’t matter, okay? You survived.” She tilts her head. “And, hey, you’ve got an an awesome girlfriend attached to that arm. That’s probably why they’re staring, actually. I mean, come on.” She shrugs, smirking at Bucky.

Bucky laughs. “Yeah,” she says. “You’re probably right. Twice in one day, definitely a record.”

“You don’t need my help,” Sam assesses, pulling her hand away for emphasis. It comes out sarcastic, but she means it, too. Bucky has come so far. Bucky doesn’t need her--and that’s a good thing. Bucky wants her, and that’s more than enough. She wants Bucky, too. And she wants Bucky to be herself.

Bucky pouts at Sam, wrapping her arms around the other woman’s waist. “I couldn’t tie my shoes without you,” she whines, her eyes wide as she furrows her brows in some play of innocence.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, knowing it’s not true. “But you don’t need shoes to swim. Go!” She taps Bucky on the ass and watches as the former Winter Soldier runs out to the water.

Sam, on the other hand, heads to Steve and Natasha and food, keeping an eye on Bucky in the process.

“You choose the suit?” Natasha asks, and Sam nods. “Good color for her.”

Steve sighs. “You know... I never thought--” He shakes his head. “I’m proud of Bucky. She’s...” He looks at Sam, really looks at her. “You’re good for her.”

Sam scratches the back of her neck, tries to hide her emotions with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “Now hand me a beer.”

Sam watches as Bucky enjoys the freedom of the ocean, the freedom of being as she should be. Being out.