[Its been a week now. A week of having to play the part of newlyweds, recently indoctrinated into the family. It's something he's never had to do before though. Never had to pretend to be somebody else for a mission. In the war, he was a soldier, fighting for a cause he believed in. With Hydra, he was their weapon, broken out to kill whoever was standing in the way of their goals. And after-
Pretending to be Bucky Barnes doesn't count. Not now he's finally reclaimed that name for himself. Not now that he's finally come to understand just who that really is.
So this? This is something entirely outside of his wheelhouse. This is pretending to be someone he's not in order to protect the only person that really matters. That simple mix up of words, and now there's an added level to their cover story. One he can't risk breaking. Not when the stakes are so high. When Sam could end up being held even partly accountable.
Which is why the routine is exactly the same that night. Why, when he steps back in to the room, his only greeting is an excessively chipper sounding-]
Hey, doll. Up for an early night?
[Not that he stays still long enough to wait for a response. Instead, he heads off to the bathroom under the cover of getting ready to turn in for the night. The door's left wide open though, the request all too clear. It gives him the excuse to turn the shower on. An added level of protection so the two of them can try to talk. Though even then, there's still only so much they can say while still stood inside their room.]
[ There are pet names that will, without fail, get a roll of Sam's eyes behind closed doors. There are ones that will make him outright laugh. There are ones that he can hear without breaking character. And then there are the ones like doll and sweetheart. And without fail, even a week into their little charade, Sam will briefly glance down, unable to quite hide the small curl of his lips and the way his cheeks flush warm.
His coat is draped over their coat rack, but he's still in the waist coat and shirt with rolled up sleeves when he follows Bucky into the bathroom. It's strange, this game of pretense. Sam's alright with casual flirting with basically everyone he knows who isn't horrifically too young for it, but a pretend relationship is quite different. Not just that, a marriage.
It weighs something down in his chest. Makes him worry about Bucky a little too - about comfort levels, control, and the last time they had to pretend to be something they're not - or not anymore, at least. And still, if he has to play pretend at something like this, at least it's with Bucky, someone whom he trusts more than enough to share a bed with. The way they push and needle at each other goes a long way to reduce the discomfort and awkwardness Sam might have felt with someone else. ]
Sounds good, babe.
[ And of course he follows the silent invitation, running water a good cover for quiet words. In the bathroom, Sam finds himself checking, automatically, for the telltale signs of 'no touch' tension in Bucky's shoulders, and not finding that at least, he reaches out, places a hand on Bucky's left arm, his own body language open in invitation to step closer if Bucky wants to. ]
Tell me about your day. You good?
[ They don't always share jobs between them. As much leeway as they get, there are limits to how accommodating the Featherstones are even to lovebirds. Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about the sort of jobs Bucky is sent on - and he doesn't expect to be told in full detail, either. But the check in on Bucky isn't optional. It's second nature, especially after Madripoor. ]
[The contact does have him tense up a little. Has him a little on edge. But it's only because of where Sam's touching him, rather than the contact itself. All this time, and still Sam insists on taking that risk. On purposely placing himself in harms way like that. Sure, Bucky may not want to hurt him, but it's only ever going to be a matter of time before something goes wrong.
Again.
It's only after he lets out a careful breath, silent despite how heavy it is, that he forces himself to continue. To step in to the offer laid out in front of him. As long as they're in this building, they each have a part to play. And after sharing a room for all this time, it isn't exactly a hardship to do it.
So his hand move to Sam's hips, tugging the man in close. That brief moment of tension is erased in the easy way he moves. In the almost cocky looking grin on his face as he leans in to quietly whisper-]
Better now I'm here.
[And, well, that's not entirely a lie. It's Sam's presence alone that's keeping him from falling apart. Between all the new arrivals and this mission, he's barely had a chance to process it all. Barely had time to figure out how he's meant to deal with it. Without Sam, he knows he wouldn't have made it this far. So if it takes playing this role to keep by his side down here, he'll do whatever he has to.
It's just an added bonus that he gets to mess with Sam in the process.]
[ It's a mental separation Sam keeps very well - between Bucky and the Winter Soldier. Sam might normalize teasing Bucky instead of treating him with kid's gloves, but it doesn't mean he ever mentally loses the distinction between the Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes. And as far as Sam's concerned, Bucky can choose to be dangerous - don't make him a danger. So there is no fear. Not hesitation. That arm is a danger to Sam in very specific circumstances, and outside of those, it's just that - an arm. Bucky's arm, with which he saves people, plays with children and fixes boats. So Sam's touch there is deliberate. He won't push when he can tell Bucky is truly uncomfortable with it - but otherwise, he will absolutely normalize this between them.
In the meantime, he lets himself be tugged close, easily folds into Bucky's framed. They're pretty matched in build, and Bucky only has an inch or two on Sam, which makes their fit comfortable and easy. And where Bucky's hands go to Sam's waist, his own wind around the man's shoulders a little more directly now. Still, that cocky grin earns Bucky a roll of Sam's eyes, even if there's mirth dancing in them. ]
Cheesy. But then, I can agree that I'm a pretty damn great thing to come home to.
[ And perhaps Sam answers Bucky's cocky grin with one of his own. It's true after all. Sam's a catch. And as if to prove that, he idly presses at the tension in Bucky's neck and shoulders, gently coaxing the muscles to relax a little. ]
[It'd be all too easy to lose himself in this. Too simple to forget that it's all just cover for a mission. That none of this means anything. But with the freedom to touch, to enjoy those small points of contact that he allows himself, he's beginning to think he's lost sight of the line between what's real or not.
So when he starts to walk Sam backwards, presses his back to the wall, it's muscle memory alone that guides them to the edge of the shower. Closer to the stream of water that serves as a cover. And it's only after the sound registers somewhere in the back of his mind that he finally speaks again.]
You can feel it, right?
[His words are still quiet, another careful whisper. Intimate perhaps, if his follow up had continued in the same strain.]
They're all waiting to see who's gonna make the first move.
[ Sam keeps the eye contact between them while Bucky walks him backwards, lets himself be maneuvered without resistance. They're tucked close together, locked chest to chest, and Sam is trapped between Bucky's frame and the wall. It shouldn't relax him, but it does, a soft exhale and something in his body going a little more pliant with the motion. Bucky might trust Sam more than himself, but Sam in flipside trusts nothing and no one as much as he does Bucky (except when it comes to the matter of Bucky's own safety and self-percetion, of course). This is a high strung situation in which Sam, overall, feels wildly out of his element.
In everything but this, perhaps. It comes naturally, like an extension of where they're at with each other. What's a little pretend marriage between friends, right? The heightened intimacy is unexpectedly nice, truth be told. Sam hadn't realized how much he missed being touched like this, to hold someone and be held, to lean close and whisper sweet nothings, to curls around someone in the dead of night. Their little competition, their ways of pushing each other's buttons, lends itself well to the ruse. Because of course, that's all it is. They're not really flirting. None of this means anything. Bucky would never...
Sam swallows. Those bright blue eyes are impossibly close, and Sam finds himself idly carding his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Bucky's neck. ]
Yeah. Yeah, I can.
[ His voice just as quite, gaze dipping for a moment and then coming back up under long, curling lashes, unable to quite stray from Bucky's massive staring problem. ]
Feels like a tipping point. Like a small nudge is all it would take.
[ The mission. Of course, they're talking about the mission, while standing so close that they're breathing together.
[It shouldn't be so easy. Shouldn't feel so natural to lead the conversation this way. They tease one another, sure. Like to push and pull at each other with with both words and actions. But it's never weighted like this. Never tucked away from prying eyes, under the cover of a relationship that doesn't exist. Never this tense, this close to a breaking point that he never knew existed.
Between the rush of water and the rising steam, the closeness of their bodies and the sentiments hidden beneath their words, it's impossible not to give as good as he gets. Too difficult to turn his back on the opportunities here and get back to business.]
Just gotta work out the right places to push.
[He ends up pressed in close at that, the space between their fronts wiped away as he pins Sam in place with his body. Whether there are cameras in the bathroom or not, he isn't taking any risks here. Isn't giving the ones monitoring them any reason to start doubting their cover story.
(Is willing to use the excuse. A way to stay close without Sam pushing him away...)
It's a step beyond anything they've done in public, and he knows it. Is likely further than he should be pushing it while they're still tucked away in the relative privacy of these four walls. But as long as Sam is willing to play along, he's more than happy to take advantage of the moment.]
Think you can figure out how to get the best response?
[ Sam would like to think he tries. Tries to throw Bucky a small but sharp and pointed glare, one that communites 'what are you doing' with a 'what the hell' implied. It's just that... It's just. Bucky presses close. Pins Sam between himself and the wall, and there's nowhere to hide the way this affects Sam. The way his breath goes a little deeper, the way his pupils widen, the way his muscles relax into it almost on instinct. It'd be different if they were bickering, if they were pretending to trade barbs, if they were still at odds with one another even.
But they're not, and in their game, Bucky gives Sam everything he's been wanting and needing, and the best Sam can do at this point is not let it ruin him completely. Just a game. Just a ruse. Bucky pushes, and Sam doesn't push back, but proverbially lets Bucky overbalance right into him.
The way Sam relaxes to the point where Bucky's closeness is all that's keeping him upright is easily explained away by simply engaging in that ruse, of course. He's not actually yielding to Bucky, just pretending to be a husband gladly yielding to something intimate. The way his fingers tangle fully into Bucky's hair, too. Never let it be said that Sam Wilson doesn't know to give as good as he gets, legs shifting to accommodate for Bucky to take up as much space as he wants, eyes unable to flick away. It's all explained away, except perhaps for how easily it comes to him.
And the silent 'What are you doing' feels more curious and appreciative than laced with the intended sharpness, even to Sam. ]
I'm better at giving responses than getting them. Think that's where you shine.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Pretending to be Bucky Barnes doesn't count. Not now he's finally reclaimed that name for himself. Not now that he's finally come to understand just who that really is.
So this? This is something entirely outside of his wheelhouse. This is pretending to be someone he's not in order to protect the only person that really matters. That simple mix up of words, and now there's an added level to their cover story. One he can't risk breaking. Not when the stakes are so high. When Sam could end up being held even partly accountable.
Which is why the routine is exactly the same that night. Why, when he steps back in to the room, his only greeting is an excessively chipper sounding-]
Hey, doll. Up for an early night?
[Not that he stays still long enough to wait for a response. Instead, he heads off to the bathroom under the cover of getting ready to turn in for the night. The door's left wide open though, the request all too clear. It gives him the excuse to turn the shower on. An added level of protection so the two of them can try to talk. Though even then, there's still only so much they can say while still stood inside their room.]
no subject
His coat is draped over their coat rack, but he's still in the waist coat and shirt with rolled up sleeves when he follows Bucky into the bathroom. It's strange, this game of pretense. Sam's alright with casual flirting with basically everyone he knows who isn't horrifically too young for it, but a pretend relationship is quite different. Not just that, a marriage.
It weighs something down in his chest. Makes him worry about Bucky a little too - about comfort levels, control, and the last time they had to pretend to be something they're not - or not anymore, at least. And still, if he has to play pretend at something like this, at least it's with Bucky, someone whom he trusts more than enough to share a bed with. The way they push and needle at each other goes a long way to reduce the discomfort and awkwardness Sam might have felt with someone else. ]
Sounds good, babe.
[ And of course he follows the silent invitation, running water a good cover for quiet words. In the bathroom, Sam finds himself checking, automatically, for the telltale signs of 'no touch' tension in Bucky's shoulders, and not finding that at least, he reaches out, places a hand on Bucky's left arm, his own body language open in invitation to step closer if Bucky wants to. ]
Tell me about your day. You good?
[ They don't always share jobs between them. As much leeway as they get, there are limits to how accommodating the Featherstones are even to lovebirds. Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about the sort of jobs Bucky is sent on - and he doesn't expect to be told in full detail, either. But the check in on Bucky isn't optional. It's second nature, especially after Madripoor. ]
no subject
Again.
It's only after he lets out a careful breath, silent despite how heavy it is, that he forces himself to continue. To step in to the offer laid out in front of him. As long as they're in this building, they each have a part to play. And after sharing a room for all this time, it isn't exactly a hardship to do it.
So his hand move to Sam's hips, tugging the man in close. That brief moment of tension is erased in the easy way he moves. In the almost cocky looking grin on his face as he leans in to quietly whisper-]
Better now I'm here.
[And, well, that's not entirely a lie. It's Sam's presence alone that's keeping him from falling apart. Between all the new arrivals and this mission, he's barely had a chance to process it all. Barely had time to figure out how he's meant to deal with it. Without Sam, he knows he wouldn't have made it this far. So if it takes playing this role to keep by his side down here, he'll do whatever he has to.
It's just an added bonus that he gets to mess with Sam in the process.]
no subject
In the meantime, he lets himself be tugged close, easily folds into Bucky's framed. They're pretty matched in build, and Bucky only has an inch or two on Sam, which makes their fit comfortable and easy. And where Bucky's hands go to Sam's waist, his own wind around the man's shoulders a little more directly now. Still, that cocky grin earns Bucky a roll of Sam's eyes, even if there's mirth dancing in them. ]
Cheesy. But then, I can agree that I'm a pretty damn great thing to come home to.
[ And perhaps Sam answers Bucky's cocky grin with one of his own. It's true after all. Sam's a catch. And as if to prove that, he idly presses at the tension in Bucky's neck and shoulders, gently coaxing the muscles to relax a little. ]
no subject
So when he starts to walk Sam backwards, presses his back to the wall, it's muscle memory alone that guides them to the edge of the shower. Closer to the stream of water that serves as a cover. And it's only after the sound registers somewhere in the back of his mind that he finally speaks again.]
You can feel it, right?
[His words are still quiet, another careful whisper. Intimate perhaps, if his follow up had continued in the same strain.]
They're all waiting to see who's gonna make the first move.
no subject
In everything but this, perhaps. It comes naturally, like an extension of where they're at with each other. What's a little pretend marriage between friends, right? The heightened intimacy is unexpectedly nice, truth be told. Sam hadn't realized how much he missed being touched like this, to hold someone and be held, to lean close and whisper sweet nothings, to curls around someone in the dead of night. Their little competition, their ways of pushing each other's buttons, lends itself well to the ruse. Because of course, that's all it is. They're not really flirting. None of this means anything. Bucky would never...
Sam swallows. Those bright blue eyes are impossibly close, and Sam finds himself idly carding his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Bucky's neck. ]
Yeah. Yeah, I can.
[ His voice just as quite, gaze dipping for a moment and then coming back up under long, curling lashes, unable to quite stray from Bucky's massive staring problem. ]
Feels like a tipping point. Like a small nudge is all it would take.
[ The mission. Of course, they're talking about the mission, while standing so close that they're breathing together.
Just the mission. ]
no subject
Between the rush of water and the rising steam, the closeness of their bodies and the sentiments hidden beneath their words, it's impossible not to give as good as he gets. Too difficult to turn his back on the opportunities here and get back to business.]
Just gotta work out the right places to push.
[He ends up pressed in close at that, the space between their fronts wiped away as he pins Sam in place with his body. Whether there are cameras in the bathroom or not, he isn't taking any risks here. Isn't giving the ones monitoring them any reason to start doubting their cover story.
(Is willing to use the excuse. A way to stay close without Sam pushing him away...)
It's a step beyond anything they've done in public, and he knows it. Is likely further than he should be pushing it while they're still tucked away in the relative privacy of these four walls. But as long as Sam is willing to play along, he's more than happy to take advantage of the moment.]
Think you can figure out how to get the best response?
no subject
[ Sam would like to think he tries. Tries to throw Bucky a small but sharp and pointed glare, one that communites 'what are you doing' with a 'what the hell' implied. It's just that... It's just. Bucky presses close. Pins Sam between himself and the wall, and there's nowhere to hide the way this affects Sam. The way his breath goes a little deeper, the way his pupils widen, the way his muscles relax into it almost on instinct. It'd be different if they were bickering, if they were pretending to trade barbs, if they were still at odds with one another even.
But they're not, and in their game, Bucky gives Sam everything he's been wanting and needing, and the best Sam can do at this point is not let it ruin him completely. Just a game. Just a ruse. Bucky pushes, and Sam doesn't push back, but proverbially lets Bucky overbalance right into him.
The way Sam relaxes to the point where Bucky's closeness is all that's keeping him upright is easily explained away by simply engaging in that ruse, of course. He's not actually yielding to Bucky, just pretending to be a husband gladly yielding to something intimate. The way his fingers tangle fully into Bucky's hair, too. Never let it be said that Sam Wilson doesn't know to give as good as he gets, legs shifting to accommodate for Bucky to take up as much space as he wants, eyes unable to flick away. It's all explained away, except perhaps for how easily it comes to him.
And the silent 'What are you doing' feels more curious and appreciative than laced with the intended sharpness, even to Sam. ]
I'm better at giving responses than getting them. Think that's where you shine.