Archive of Our Own ^beta

1. THE SENTIENT ROOM

Sam wasn’t sure what to make of this. Sure, it wasn’t as if villains hadn’t kidnapped Sam before. That was just par for the course when it came to being a superhero. Sometimes, you just were surprised, knocked out, and brought to an abandoned warehouse (because for 95% of the time, it was an abandoned warehouse), or on the rare occasion like now, a weird undisclosed location.

“I’m not seeing any doors,” grumbled Bucky, circling the room like a tiger in too small of a cage.

Sam knew that most people wouldn’t notice, but this wasn’t just Bucky’s “I’m pissed someone caught me off guard” pacing and “I’m aggravated that someone ruined a perfectly good date for this nonsense” stomping, but also a “I’m having intense feelings about someone trapping me in a room to do with me what they will” quiet panicking. Sam understood the feeling. Sam was doing everything in his power to try not to think about the fact that he was back in a cage too. And Bucky could tell; his saw the fear on Sam even if others didn’t, and was getting mad for Sam, adding “I’m filled with rage for you giving my boyfriend flashbacks to his time in the Raft and torturing him like that” growling to what he was doing.

“Getting us out soon, sweetheart,” said Bucky.

They had been on a date. A wonderful fucking date at the aquarium and Sam had bought Bucky a giant nurse shark plushie because it was cute and Bucky had been eyeing it and they were almost to the truck, almost . What even happened to Bucky’s plushie? If Bucky lost that plushie because whatever loser who kidnapped them left it on the ground as they dragged Sam and Bucky’s lax forms away, then Sam was totally billing whoever was behind this.

“It’s – fine. It’s fine,” said Sam, doing everything that he could not to think about the enclosed space.

It wasn’t fine.

This small room with no walls and escape could never be fine for Sam.

Bucky could tell.

“Fuck this place,” said Bucky, kicking a wall, the wall… groaning, “The fuck?”

“Hey! Don’t kick the walls, they were expensive,” said a voice on speakers.

Sam and Bucky glowered, noticing the speakers in the corner of the room.

“Hello, and welcome to my world ,” said the voice, someone using a voice changer, one of the obnoxious ones that made the voice deeper, “Or rather my room. But this is no ordinary room! It is one that bends to the wills and desires of those who find it, and after exchanging some money for the use of it, it is temporarily mine .”

“A room that groans when you kick it that you bought off some shady black market auction,” said Sam, grimacing at the walls, kind of wishing he didn’t have to touch the floor, “Not creepy at all.”

“The fuck you need with a live room?” asked Bucky through his teeth, pointing an accusatory finger at the speakers, “And why are we in it?”

“Oh, that’s the best part of this,” said the villain, taking the obligatory moment to maniacally cackle, “Now you must have sex with each other! In. This. Room. It’s the only way out of this sentient room.”

Bucky’s eyebrows did an angry dance on his face as if to say, “Fucker wants us to fuck? No way is that happening.” Sam sighed, nodding as if to say, “No, I agree. Plan A.”

“Redwings?” Sam said, the two Redwings popping out from behind because of course they somehow got into their suits before they woke up (suit kink, much, weird sentient room man?). The two drones used their small projectors to fill an entire wall with a PowerPoint, Bucky standing next to the PowerPoint like he was a girl at a car show, “Hello, Villain of the Week; Sentient Room. And welcome to my 582 slide-long PowerPoint about consent, boundaries, and why they’re important.”

*****

Sam clapped his hands, the Redwings moving onto the next slide.

“All right, Slide Number 76: ‘You Don’t Have to Say No to Say No: The Other Ways Your Partner Might Retract Consent or Not Give Consent That Aren’t Just No’ – ”

“Okay, I think we all understand the importance of consent and boundaries,” said the villain, definitely forgetting to turn on the voice changer at this point, sounding more like the blandest man in the world than anything, “Really. I think we’re good now.”

“No, I’m not sure any of you are good,” said Sam, glaring at the open door right there, “No, not when the both of you tried to pull this shit. We’re getting through the entire slideshow. You and this asshole of a sentient room are both getting a thorough lecture on this.”

“Seriously, you can just leave now,” said the sentient room, since it could actually talk , but Bucky shook his head, pointing to the PowerPoint, “Not until Sam’s done with the PowerPoint.”

“Hey, you asked for this,” said Sam, returning to the slideshow, “Now, other ways people might revoke consent – ”

2. THE MAZE

Sam had been through some weird shit in his time. He’d fought a gang of jugglers before; he’d outsmarted a sentient crossword being; hell, Sam had even talked down a group of sentient dinosaurs with “above average IQs” (Whatever the fuck that meant. Not like there weren’t a grab bag of different types of intelligences that were all equally important and IQ tests were flawed).

This had to be up there in the “Top 10 Weirdest Things That Happened to Sam Wilson” list, snuggly between fighting the guy who dressed up like a Rhino and the Arachnid Kid who webbed Sam and Bucky to the ground.  Sam wasn’t quite sure how exactly they got there. One minute, Sam and Bucky were investigating a case about space squids falling from the sky. They were talking amongst themselves after interviewing a few dock workers in NYC, trying to put the pieces together and realizing it was just a harmless interdimensional accident.

The next thing Sam knew, there were cloths over his and Bucky’s mouths and noses, the world getting hazy. There had been some drugging involved; a Minotaur – ? No, several Minotaurs, or maybe people with bull masks and a lot of oil on their shaven, muscular bodies only wearing some of the tiniest booty shorts Sam had ever seen. The oily men holding Sam and Bucky, carrying them, Bucky and himself slipping and sliding in their oil-drenched hands as the weirdos tried to move the two of them.

A maze.

That was where they were taken too – a maze. Some maze in what Sam assumed was in the middle of nowhere countryside somewhere in Westchester (the Best Chester), New York. Possibly in the backyard of an bananas bonkers eccentric billionaire, placing both Sam and Bucky in the middle of a complicated maze.

“Bucky… are you poking the hedges?” asked Sam, raising an eyebrow.

“Just seeing how annoying it’d be to Kool-Aid Man through the bushes,” said Bucky, Sam raising his other eyebrow, Bucky rolling his eyes as he added, “I’ve been catching up on pop culture.”

Sam kept giving Bucky the look.

“Well. AJ and Cass showed me a lot. You know they’ve been catching me up, this shouldn’t be that huge of a surprise,” said Bucky, shrugging.

“Okay,” said Sam.

“Ah! I see that we are all present!”

Sam and Bucky turn to a floating flatscreen showing a group of too rich people with masks on.

“Great,” said Sam, sighing, wiping his face with his hands because Sam was really not in the mood for any of this, “Just great. Okay. Spill. Are we playing Eyes Wide Shut here or The Most Dangerous Game ?”

“What… Cap said,” said Bucky, and Sam could see it in Bucky’s face; Bucky totally did not understand either of those references.

“How quaint , they think they’re in control,” said one of the people in the back with the golden sun mask, a few of the others chuckling, “Oh, this is going to be fantastic .”

“Oh, this is getting real old real fast,” said Bucky, flipping a knife, looking very much tempted to toss it without getting a complete villain’s speech, “Should I – ?”

“Soon,” said Sam, kind of tempted to let Bucky have at the screen, but knowing they probably needed more information from their captors, “Let’s at least figure out what’s happening.”

“Welcome, Captain America and the White Wolf!” said the man in front, a man wearing a Saturn mask, “To our Maze of Mysteries!”

Sam was… not impressed.

“What?” asked the man, sounding annoyed at the lack of reaction, “Nothing?”

“Maze of Mysteries isn’t exactly the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard,” said Sam.

“Yeah, what about the Maze of Malevolence?” asked Bucky, snapping his fingers as he thought of another name, “The Maze of Maliciousness?”

“Or the Maze of Malignance?” suggested Sam, “Maze of Massacres?”

“Ooh, Massacre. I like that,” said Bucky.

“Yeah, that’s nice,” said the one in the Neptune mask to the side before she was elbowed hard by the one in the Mars mask.

“ Anyways, ” said the Saturn Mask Man, turning back to Sam and Bucky, “You are smack dab in the middle of our Maze of Mysteries . And there is only one way to get out of the Maze of Mysteries…”

The man stopped for his dramatic pause.

It didn’t have the effect that Saturn Mask Man thought it would have.

“…Is to complete a series of challenges of the sexual nature! Yes, Captain America and the White Wolf must have sex to survive the maze!” finished the man, his group of planet-masked weirdos cheering behind him and clapping like they were at a golf game.

“Great. Eyes Wide Shut . Okay, that’s just… gross and weird,” said Sam, Bucky nodding.

Sam sighed, gesturing to Bucky. Bucky nodded, walking over to Sam, wrapping his arms and legs around Sam, Bucky hiding his face where Sam’s neck met shoulder, preparing for what Sam was about to do.

“Yes, it’s starting!” said Saturn Mask Man, “I told you guys it would work! You were like, ‘Craig, this is ridiculous,’ but it’s absolutely working! It’s – ”

That was when Sam’s wings kicked in. Because of course the rich asshole forgot about Sam’s jetpack . Sam flew up into the sky, one of his Redwings taking out the screen just as Sam heard the Saturn Mask Man say, “Well, dang it,” as Sam and Bucky escaped super easily.

“It’s like they always forget you can fly,” Bucky hummed, doing everything in his power to not look down, “So many of these people that we fight who aren’t the regular joes that we can talk down are just… wow, there’s just nothing in their noggins.”

“Seriously,” said Sam, sending an alert to the authorities about the creepy-ass mansion and its sex maze and billionaire planet mask cult, “Want to show me your favorite pizza place again? I bet we can get to Brooklyn before everything closes.”

“Let’s,” said Bucky, smiling into Sam’s shoulder.

3. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY CASTLE

Sam was pretty sure something was lost in translation. One minute, he was up in space (SPACE), talking down an alien from taking over the earth, planning a trip to the moon in the back of his head, regurgitating a speech that he used for a few other aliens with the misunderstanding that conquering was a good idea, talking about truth and justice and there might have been something about cats in there at one point because Sam was very sure he lost his metaphor at some point and Sam was contemplating about possibly pulling out his PowerPoint on the subject, the one Bucky dubbed “Sam’s Very Accurate Thousand Page Essay on Why Imperialism Is Wrong,” but then it seemed to click for the aliens he was talking to, their leader apologizing for trying to conquer earth and exclaiming, “We must celebrate our truce, King America!”

The misnaming was – well – it was super weird, that was just a choice , but languages had different translations for terms and maybe their people didn’t have a term for Captain, its closest translation being “King.” So, Sam plastered on the good ol’ Captain America smile, nodded, and let the aliens travel down to Earth, mostly because they were pretty harmless once Sam got to see them, see their abilities, talk to them, though Sam wasn’t sure why they brought Sam and Bucky to Disneyland of all places.

Maybe even other planets knew that Disneyland was the “Happiest Place On Earth?” Though,  they probably weren’t warned about the overpriced tickets or food or how bad the lines could get. Not that any of that would make Disneyland not worth it in the end, but you go in with expectations, you might get burned. The aliens seemed to be having a great time, and it wasn’t as if Bucky or himself were going to say no to an all-expense paid trip to Disneyland, so there Bucky and Sam were, hanging out with a bunch of knee-high aliens bullying people out of lines.

And when the leader of the aliens saw Sleeping Beauty’s, the leader pointed to it and decreed, “WE SHALL HAVE OUR BALL OF TRUCE CELEBRATION THERE!”

Sam and Bucky had a great time watching the aliens kick everyone out of the castle, get the “preparations” ready, send nervous and confused park employees over to the two of them with “attire fit for the occasion” and joined the little chaotic aliens in their mosh pit of a “Ball of Truce Celebration,” listening to music that harkened back to old school punk.

It was fun.

The aliens were weird, but endearing and the music was a little too loud, and Sam probably couldn’t keep up with the dancing for long, but he was having a good time with the aliens and Bucky seemed to love the chaos of it all, giddy as he jumped along with them.

Sam should have known when the aliens brought in a canopy bed that it was going to go from fun weird to weird weird.

The music stopped, the dancing stopped, the aliens cheered and then… just stared at Sam and Bucky.

“What?” said Sam after twenty minutes of staring.

“Well?” said the leader, gesturing to the bed.

“Well what?” said Bucky flatly, stepping in front of Sam protectively, glaring.

“Complete the Ritual of the Ball of Truce Celebration,” said the leader of the aliens, gesturing to the bed once more, “Sleep with your Consort, King America.”

Sam took a deep breath in.

He took a deep breath out.

He looked at the canopy bed in the middle of all these people . He looked at what were clearly plastic decorations making the castle the “Sleeping Beauty Castle.””. Bucky gave Sam a “Oh wow, I think they think we’re going to fuck in front of them” look of horror.

“Seriously? I thought you guys were cool,” said Sam, “We’re not having sex in Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.”

“Well…” said Bucky, his eyes saying “We could at some point”.

“We’re not having sex in Sleeping Beauty’s Castle with you all watching,” Sam corrected, Bucky nodding vigorously.

“But… Ritual of the Ball of Truce Celebration?” said their leader, pouting, all of the aliens looking befuddled.

“ Our way of ending the, um. Ritual of the Ball of Truce Celebration,” Bucky started, definitely not knowing what he was saying, Sam honestly not sure how Bucky was going to end the sentence and a little worried about where Bucky was going to go, “Is. Um. It’s…”

Bucky looked around the room. As if something in the room would tell him how to finish the sentence. Then, Bucky looked at his own goddamn hand and said, “…handshake?”

All the aliens tilted their heads at the same time.

“… handshake?” said their leader.

Bucky proceeded to do the most ridiculous, most nonsensical, most enigmatic handshake to Sam (not with, Sam played zero part in the handshake other than his hand being involved) that Sam had ever seen in his life, Bucky ending the very awkward, very strange handshake with a goat sound.

“…Handshake,” said Bucky, “It’s. Um. Complete. We did the thing. Woo. Ritual over. The Ball of Truce Celebration complete. We did it, team. Go us.”

The aliens blinked up at them.

“You are a very strange race,” said their leader.

Sam and Bucky… shrugged, Sam unsure how Bucky convinced the aliens, but happy he did.

4. THE (ADMITTEDLY VERY BEAUTIFUL( ALIEN

Sam thought if Bucky’s eyes narrowed anymore, they would be shut. But he was pretty sure Bucky was just trying to glare harder than ever before. And, honestly, Sam didn’t really blame him. The truth of the matter was that a small little goblin thing had shown up on their porch, announcing the arrival of someone who seemed important (“Did the little twerp just mention Thanos? I think he just said Thanos.”) but the only thing that happened was a tall white guy appearing to amble up the porch steps.

A tall white guy who wasted absolutely no time flirting with Sam. 

“Look, man, if you’re looking to talk, I wouldn’t open with being related to Thanos,” Sam said, having difficulty treating this as anything other than a weird Tuesday.

The guy– Eros, he’d said–waved his hand. “Let’s forget it then. And you’re Captain America?”

“Uh-huh.” Sam held out his hand to shake, trying to ignore the way that Bucky stiffened next to him. Man, they’d be having such a good day. They’d woken up lazy, trading kisses on shoulders that became kisses on necks that became Bucky’s hands all over Sam until–

Eros grinned when he shook Sam’s hand and looked between them. “Hmm.” His hold tightened on Sam’s hand, as if he was gaining this knowledge from a simple handshake. “Oh, I interrupted something, didn’t I?”

“No–”

Bucky interjected, “Yeah, you did.” 

Sam took his hand away immediately, tugging it out of Eros’ grasp and shooting Bucky a look to “ stop, relax, be cool, please?” Bucky stepped to the side in response, and Sam could still feel his angry eyes on them just as strong. But Sam wasn’t going to piss off a relative of Thanos, especially one that just appeared mischievous rather than evil, so he leaned against the front door. “What brings you here, huh?”

“I just wanted to see the famous Captain for myself,” Eros leaned against the wall, and Sam didn’t miss the way his eyes dragged up his form. He also didn’t miss the way that Bucky stepped a half step closer. Eros’ eyes cut to Bucky then. “The elusive Winter Soldier,” he purred. “Good to know your beauty hasn’t been exaggerated either.”

“Who’s talking about Bucky?” because it wasn’t just Bucky who could be overprotective here. 

Eros laughed, turning his eyes back to Sam. “I assure you, it’s only after we discuss you, Captain.”

Sam was losing patience and fast. “What’s your deal here?”

“I thought that was obvious,” Eros looked between them quickly and then laughed again. “We should have sex. Of course.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at the same time as Bucky rushed their guest, pinning him easily against the side of their house. Unfortunately, of course, that seemed to be exactly what Eros wanted as he smiled broadly. “Perfect.”

Bucky made a sound of disgust and pushed off of him, leaving the man to smooth his clothes as he let lust fill his gaze, unfiltered and comfortable on him. Sam, for his part, reached out a hand to touch Bucky, maybe ground him a bit. Fuck knows that Sam needed it, too, now that Thanos’ brother was asking to have sex with them. 

He let silence settle for a beat before he spoke. “Eros, we aren’t having sex with you.”

Never one to be dismissed that easily, Eros shrugged with a smile still on his lips. “I’ll be around for a while. I’m planning on seeking American citizenship, make my priorities clear, Captain America-“

“Sam…” Bucky’s voice came out like a warning. A warning to whom, exactly, Sam wasn’t sure. But certainly a warning that his nonviolent patience was wearing thin.

Sam fixed Eros with his best “let’s be reasonable about this,” look. “Look, I’m all for open borders, but you’re gonna have a tough time finding anywhere that isn’t at least a little stung by that brother you mentioned.”

Eros frowned, looking across the field in front of their home in Delacroix. “Earth sucks.” He turned back to them, “How are you just relaxing here, anyway? Are you able to just ignore that a Celestial is now involved in the goings-on of Earth?”

“Excuse me?” Sam checked, and he felt Bucky’s steady and persistent glare towards Eros back him up.

“Months ago? When Arishem–?” Eros checked, finding Sam’s furrowed brow in response. “No?”

“With all due respect, we have enough to deal with,” Sam said.

“Back in May? No?”

“Again, I assure you, we have plenty to deal with.” 

Eros smiled tightly, “Of course.” He seemed, thankfully, to take the hint, and ambled off the porch with his goblin thing following him closely. “Well, truly, it’s been a pleasure to lay my tired eyes on you both.” He flashed them a winning smile before reaching into his coat and flicking a playing card towards them both. Neither stooped to pick it up, but from his periphery, Sam found a nine of hearts staring up at him with a shine to it. “If you ever rethink my offer, don’t hesitate to call me.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, “That have a phone number on it or something on it?”

“Just write me a love letter and send it on the wind,” Eros winked. “It’ll find me.” And Sam knew that they would be transferring that particular little card into Sharon Carter’s devious little hands as soon as possible. But he was more grateful than anything when Eros walked into a self-created portal, sashaying easily until he disappeared.

He turned to Bucky and sighed. “Getting house calls to fuck now.”

Bucky was still staring off in his direction. “I’m gonna break all my therapy rules if I see that guy again.” He sniffed and seemed to gather himself before turning to Sam. “What was he talking about? What’s an Arishem?”

“I don’t know. We were fixing the boat in May.”

Bucky nodded before relaxing, finally, into a smile. “Wasn’t thinking of much else but you back then.”

Sam smirked before sliding an arm around his waist, “Better still be thinking about me that much.”

“Nothing to worry about there, Wilson.”

5. THE ROBED ONES

Sam felt his mouth curl at the sight of the temple. It wasn’t that he had anything against freedom of worship or something. But he did have something against this particular sort: all gold and marble columns, the kind of opulence that spoke more to the worship of people rather than any benevolent force of the universe. And way too much bad shit had come from worshiping people. 

As he ascended the steps with Bucky, a silence fell on both of them, broken only by Bucky mumbling, “I hate this kinda shit.”

“Yeah?”

Bucky nodded. “Never know what you’re gonna get with people like this.”

Sam had to agree. Were they gonna get the fake niceties of regular church people? Or something far more sinister? Shit, it’d only been a few weeks prior that they’d been through that sad parody of Eyes Wide Shut. What more could they be walking into now? “Statistically, they’re probably not as horny as the others have been. Most churches aren’t chomping at the bit to get us to fuck,” Sam offered, his words far more hopeful than he felt.

Bucky snorted. “Church people are the horniest motherfuckers out there.”

Sam felt a smile spread on his face in spite of himself. Bucky had been in a rotten mood, and growing rottener still, as they worked hard, batting away villain-of-the-week types for what seemed like months at this point. They were due a vacation soon, but who knew when that would be? 

He held out his hand as they walked, feeling the moment that Bucky grasped his hand, giving him a squeeze. Sam returned it. Then they dropped their hands to enter the temple.

The doors swung wide, the two of them not breaking pace even though Sam wanted to. He forced his feet to keep walking like they always do, to enter rooms he already felt unwelcome in, to talk to people he was afraid of if he thought about it for more than a second. But fear and trepidation had no place in his line of work, never had a place, so he kept walking.

Dark and cavernous, the room enveloped them as the large doors shut behind Bucky and Sam. And then: lights. Spotlights, really, illuminating five figures with long, flowing robes. Sam heard a loud sigh erupt from his partner.

“Would it kill you not to be rude?” Sam muttered from the side of his mouth. 

He could practically hear the eye roll that Bucky was surely giving in response before he muttered back, “We’ve been through this last week. Come on.”

“Not exactly this–”

“Close enough, and–

“SILENCE!” one of the robed figures shouted at them, and Bucky sighed while Sam crossed his arms. “You will speak only when spoken to.”

Sam scoffed. “We’ll see.”

“I would tread carefully, Captain.” And he couldn’t see the robed figure’s face but Sam could bet there was a sneer beneath the shroud, and Sam didn’t take too well to being sneered at, seen or unseen.

“I could say the same to you,” he called out, appreciating Bucky’s return to stony silence next to him, if nothing else for the sheer intimidation factor of it. And if he thought it was hot, too, okay?. He appreciated the support over the hot factor, though.

A different robed figure spoke, this time a high-pitched, scratchy sort of voice. Human? He couldn’t be sure these days. It was certainly distinct. “Captain, we won’t ask you for much.” You won’t be getting anything at all, his mind said, losing its battle with his mouth’s filter. “But we will ask you and your consort to…”

“Ow,” Sam said, jerking away from a forceful jab of Bucky’s elbow into his side.

“SILENCE!” 

The second robed figure continued calmly, “You and your consort must simply join our party tonight.”

Bucky’s cough sounded suspiciously like “Told you.”

“SILENCE!”

Bucky held out his hands, “What? The consort doesn’t get a say?” And Sam had nothing to say at this point, because Bucky was right. He let him go.

“We are speaking to the Captain.”

“Behind every Captain is a loyal consort,” Bucky retorted, making Sam try and hide his smile, finding only middling success. “What sort of party?”

And many things happened all at once. Each of the robed figures became a not-so-robed figure, dropping their garments quickly to pool at their feet. Sam and Bucky’s eyes widened as they took in their hosts–definitely not human. Definitely supremely tentacled aliens, actually.

“Oh, wow.” Sam had half a mind to ask if he could take a picture, prove that such creatures existed, especially given AJ’s newfound fascination with octopi. But just as he was about to do the thing that would definitely make him pass Bucky as favorite uncle of the month, he remembered what’s happening. He was definitely looking at these alien’s genitals. 

“Captain,” the high-pitched one said, holding out one tentacle that seemed to be acting as an arm. “Come inside.”

“What’s inside?” Sam challenged.

“You’ll see…”

“Is it an orgy?”

“You’ll see…”

“Man, you gotta tell us if it’s an orgy in there.”

Bucky piped up, “Seriously. That’s like the first rule of an orgy.”

Sam whipped his head towards Bucky, “How do you know the rules for orgies?” 

“I took an educated guess,” Bucky was barely biting back laughter now, and Sam wasn’t faring much better. And as they stood there, being beckoned to join a tentacle orgy, Sam couldn’t believe it was possible to fall even more in love with Bucky, this man who still took time to laugh with Sam, to show up every time for Sam, to figure shit out with Sam. 

A terrible squelching sound interrupted their gazing, and they turned to find the orgy had been revealed and the previously-robed figures had joined in. Tentacles thrashed and suction cups sucked anything they could get to, the figures all molding together until it was a moaning, groaning pile of tentacles all sucking each other. Sam had to wince at the sheer amount of sucking sounds by then (he’s good with some sucking sounds, but there was too much suction sound in that temple).

“Thanks for the invite, everybody, but you’ve gotta understand: this is our second orgy invitation in a month,” Sam started backing away. “Have at it for yourselves, though!” And he was glad, in the end, that they’d waited until the start of the orgy in earnest, because the figures had already distracted themselves enough for Sam and Bucky to slip out pretty unnoticed.

They exchanged a glance on the step before giving into the laughter that they’d been barely suppressing for some time then. And as Sam pulled Bucky in by the shoulders, he brushed his lips against his ear. “Getting tired of all these bad guys telling us to fuck.”

“Yeah?” Bucky pulled Sam in by the waist, still walking close. “Maybe we should try exercising the ‘ol free will.”

“Maybe we should.”

+1. THE TIME THEY DECIDED FOR THEMSELVES

It had been a bad luck spell in the end.

Some stray, minor little hex that hit them both in the chest, and they hadn’t started noticing the effects until after the mission had ended. 

Sam did blame Bucky for it, in any case. He was the one who had slid his hands down to Sam’s ass as they waited for the wizards to finish the reversal spell that Sam had convinced them to perform. Honestly, they seemed like pretty good allies if they could keep this partnership up. And if Bucky could keep it in his pants.

Which…yeah, Sam didn’t know which was a bigger ask. 

“Buck,” Sam mumbled.

“It’s been so long…”

“It’s been three days.”

“So long,” Bucky sighed, and maybe Sam shouldn’t have encouraged him with a little smile but it did feel good. So they stood there, shifting their weight from one foot to another until the wizards noticed their smirks. 

They tried to hide them right away, but it was too late.

“Are you groping each other during a sacred incantation?”

Bucky stepped away suddenly. “No.” 

“Are you now lying during a sacred incantation?” And that seemed to get him, as he hesitated next to Sam. Shit.

“Look,” Sam started, risking some vulnerability. “We have reservations across the city. We’re just trying to get date night started.”

“Oh, forgive us for interrupting your date night,” a wizard said sarcastically, and that was all the warning they got before they were both hit in the chest with that minor little hex. “Just a little something to help you on your way, then. It’ll be over in a couple hours.”

“It better not be an orgy,” Bucky sighed, “I’m so fucking tired of orgies.”

“Bucky, you can’t just say these things in public.”

But the spell ended, finally, and they were on their way. Or so they thought. The bad luck started striking as they left the wizards’ lair, causing Sam to trip over his own two feet and then Bucky realized that he left one of his favorite knives at the lair when they were already an hour away.

“It was one of their bad luck hexes,” Bucky hissed when it dawned on him. “Like they were talking about earlier.” Right. Sam remembered them mentioning such a spell, filling lives with enough minor inconveniences that could drive a man mad if they persisted. Surprisingly effective, those well-timed inconveniences.

“All right, well, just a couple hours like they said, right?” But as soon as that left his mouth, a pop! from his truck’s tire (because it was date night; because he wouldn’t make Bucky clench his teeth for heights on date night) made him curse. And as he rolled the truck into a field, he found not only the tire popped and flat, but the engine beginning to smoke. “Fucking hell.”

They looked longingly at the road that had promised to bring them to a nice hotel, and instead remembered the motel that had been advertised on the highway sign just a mile back. So they hauled their backpacks around their shoulders and set off, reaching the town and smiling their most charming smiles for the motel owner in the middle of the night.

“Any vacancy?” Sam asked.

“Just one,” the clerk said in a flat, bored tone. “Oh, you’re in luck. Two twin beds.”

“So lucky,” Bucky grumbled under his breath. Sam ignored him and paid for the night. They walked the short way to the motel room, and of course, the key didn’t work. So Sam went all the way back to get the right keys. Then they were back to enter their room.

“Okay,” Sam said, surveying in. “It’s not as dirty as I thought.”

Bucky flopped on a twin bed and stared at the ceiling. He held an arm out and waved it in the air. “I can’t even reach over to your bed.”

“It’s one night, Buck.” 

“You know, after all the bad guys recently who were trying to get us to fuck, these ones succeeded in making us not fuck. All I wanted after the mission was a nice king bed–”

“Oh, Mr. Moneybags wanted a king bed–”

“--In a nice hotel,” Bucky kept going. “But no. Minor bad luck.”

Sam had to admit it was sort of sweet that this is what made Bucky grumble the most, the inability to reach over and touch Sam in the night, the way he sometimes did. Sam would wake up with a flat hand on his back, and Bucky’s eyes watching it as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths, like he was amazed at Sam’s life under his touch.

It made him want to fix this, just a little bit.

“You know what?” Sam said, coming closer until he was sliding on the bed, straddling Bucky’s hips. “You’re right.”

“I am?”

“Mmhmm.” He dipped down to kiss Bucky’s lips, spreading his hands along Bucky’s chest. “I’m tired of these weirdos dictating when we’re having sex.” He sat up to watch the moment it dawned on Bucky, the light that came back into his eyes, and Sam laughed just a little. “You’re so easy.”

Bucky’s hands rubbed up Sam’s thighs. “I know what I like.”

“Yeah? Is it me?”

“Yeah, it’s you,” Bucky said, that easy, happy smile that comes on his face when things start to feel right to him again. Sam loves that smile. He loves all of Bucky’s smiles, really, but especially that one. That smile is the one that seems to appreciate Sam most, the one that counts Sam as all that’s right in the world. 

It encouraged Sam to lean down and kiss down his jaw, pausing to swipe his tongue around Bucky’s earlobe as he murmured. “Like you plenty, too, you know?”

“Yeah, I figured,” and Bucky wasn’t nearly breathless enough. Sam had to work him up, his favorite kind of challenge.

“Know what else I like?”

“Tell me, baby.”

Baby. Sam rolled his hips against Bucky’s in response before speaking. “Like when you get that big cock of yours all nice and wet for me. Get me nice and relaxed for it, too. Fuck, your fingers alone make me see stars, Bucky,” he continued to grind against Bucky’s hips, feeling his hands clench around his thighs. “If I didn’t love coming on your cock, I’d have you just feel me up from the inside.”

“Fuck, Sam.”

“But I love it,” he kept going. They were both plenty hard now; he could feel Bucky stiffening up underneath him, and he needed to see more, feel more soon. Fast. “You fill me up so nice. So nice. Think you were made to be inside me sometimes.”

Bucky groaned at that.

“You like that, honey?” Sam asked, raising himself up and arching his back as he kept grinding them together. “Like thinking that you’re made for me? Just have you stay inside me where you belong? All nice and warm and tight?”

“The fuckin’ dream, Sam,” and that’s better. Bucky’s voice was rough around the edges, excited and desperate, and–yeah, sure, a king bed would be much better for the kind of sex they really like to have, but Sam wasn’t an amateur and neither was Bucky. They were gonna make this work.

Sam leaned down to kiss him deeply, their tongues sliding along one another, claiming each other’s attention like no mission, no bad agenda, no spell ever could. He only broke away to whisper. “Then I think we should get you in me.”

Bucky got to work, bless his heart, sliding out from under Sam to start rifling through his backpack. “Where the fuck–”

Sam figured it would be part of the bad luck for Bucky to be delayed in finding lube, so he helped him out a little bit before he could get grumbly again, shimmying out of his shirt and pants. He slid a hand down the front of his boxers and started touching himself, enjoying the way Bucky’s lips parted in spite of themselves. 

But it wasn’t exactly the main point.

“Find the lube,” Sam murmured, smirking.

Bucky groaned but kept going, throwing everything out of the backpack and half the contents of a duffel bag he’d carried with him, too, until he found the little bottle. He grinned triumphantly as he rejoined Sam, pulling down his boxers and exhaling when he watched his cock spring free, resting hard against his stomach.

“So pretty,” Bucky groaned, settling himself between Sam’s legs and leaning down to press an almost chaste kiss to the head of his dick. Sam clenched his eyes shut. “Love this dick.” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty fond of you, too,” Sam said, just a little breathless, but he got his eyes back open to watch Bucky shrug out of his clothes, too. And maybe a twin bed was a sign of good luck, actually, because Sam didn’t want to be anywhere but pressed up against every inch of this man’s skin. “God, come here–”

They wrapped their arms tight around each other as they kissed desperately, Bucky sliding down with a slick hand– when did he slick up? What was time and space outside of Bucky Barnes? Could he notice anything besides him now? All good questions, Sam thought–and wrapped it around both of them until they were gasping into each other’s mouths. 

“Need you,” Sam breathed out, and Bucky nodded against his forehead, laying him down so sweetly that Sam thought he was going to explode. But he didn’t explode, not yet, so much as sigh out in bliss when Bucky slicked up his fingers again and reached under him, to that familiar and vulnerable place, circling his rim softly before pressing. “That’s it, that’s it–”

“Always in a hurry,” Bucky chided playfully, grabbing a handful of his ass a little tighter to make his point. 

“I like when you fuck me, all right?” 

Bucky hummed in response, pressing in farther, working his finger in and out slowly and carefully, letting Sam feel the very beginning of a stretch. He got impatient soon enough, nodding wildly as Bucky nudged his rim with a second finger, same with a third sometime later. Sam worked to fuck himself on Bucky’s fingers, which made Bucky click his tongue again.

“Eager, eager.”

“I told you–”

“Gonna fuck you, Sammy, don’t you worry your pretty head.” He smiled as Sam rolled his eyes, still bucking his hips and betraying his show of cool. “You saw how worked up you got me. Filthy mouth you’ve got.”

“You should talk,” Sam said, trying his hardest to keep little gasps and moans from escaping his mouth and still failing. “You’re worse than I am.”

“You love it,” Bucky challenged. “Love hearing how I’m gonna loosen up this tight hole.” Sam’s head fell back with the words. “You never let me really loosen you up, though, huh? You love that stretch. Love feeling full.”

“Yeah,” Sam gasped. “Yeah, I do.”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky hummed, dragging his fingers out and leaving Sam to clench down on emptiness. He opened his eyes to see Bucky watching the sight, flicking his eyes up to Sam’s only when he caught him looking. He crawled over him with a sly smile, covering his body with his own. “How d’you want it, baby? You wanna show me how you can ride my cock?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, letting Bucky show off a little with his ridiculous strength, maneuvering Sam on top like before. Bucky’s cock was ready for anything, it seems, hard and dripping from just fingering Sam open, and Sam nearly salivates from just looking at it. He wants it bad. He doesn’t wait anymore.

He settled himself with a deep breath, reaching behind him to guide Bucky into his body and breathing out as he sat on it.

“That’s it,” Bucky sighed, a picture of relaxation under Sam, pliant and happy and peaceful. “Perfect inside.” Sam braced his hands against Bucky’s chest with the compliment before starting to ride him, letting the drag of his cock fill him up. He groaned with it, groaned with the power of setting the pace, one of his favorite things, and letting the day wash out of them both with this. “So fucking hot.”

“Yeah? Like seeing me ride you?” Sam checked, speeding up just a bit, just enough to make Bucky groan anew. “God, you’re gonna fill me up good. Give me all that come inside.” The moan Bucky let out made Sam keep going. “Love feeling you go off inside me, just fucking painting me.”

“Feels so good.” Bucky’s voice was wrecked with want by now, his hips jerking underneath, and Sam tightened his walls around him. “Oh my God,” he gasped. “Sam.”

“Yeah, I’ll make it good for you,” he said, because he will. 

“You always do.”

“Damn right,” Sam murmured, and there were no words after that, just moans and skin slapping against skin. Bucky thrust his hips up just right, hitting that soft spot inside of Sam and making him groan out, “Oh, God, Bucky.”

Bucky nearly growled at that, fingers clenching so hard and his hips thrusting so hard and so unexpectedly that the next thing Sam knew, he was tumbling to the floor with Bucky.

“Oh, fuck,” Sam laughed breathlessly, flat on his back now. “We fell out of the bed.” 

Bucky groaned, cradling his head close. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam laughed, “Yeah, just a good note that we’re way too big for a twin bed.” He bucked his hips underneath Bucky’s body now. “Come on, I’m so close.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, now scrambling for purchase on the cheap carpet as he thrust into Sam hard enough to make his vision darken and his eyes roll up. His hand came in between them, jerking Sam off once, twice, three times until he was going off.

“Bucky,” Sam chanted as he came across his stomach under Bucky, “Bucky, Bucky, honey, oh…” He laid his head back, letting Bucky take what he needed, hips snapping into Sam with those delicious sounds echoing off the walls as he did.

Bucky buried his face into Sam’s neck as he came, quiet and serious, holding on tight and letting Sam catch his breath. And maybe this was it. Those moments that it didn’t matter whatever weirdness they were up against, the weird shit that people expected from them both. Maybe this was all that mattered: to be holed up in the middle of nowhere, making the most of anything by enjoying each other. Maybe that’s all that was needed. 

After a minute, Bucky turned to kiss on Sam’s neck. 

“Bad guys don’t get any say in that.”