Archive of Our Own ^beta

There are a couple of perks to being Captain America that Sam didn't expect. No one bothered to tell him that you get promo goods, endless i-hop vouchers, fancy tech, real sweet work-out gear, the list goes on. 

Those are all fantastic, but he doesn't even use half the shit they send over for him and Bucky because they always get the sizes wrong. So they donate the tech equipment, super small t-shirts, pants, and some shoes because you really can have too many despite what Sharon says. 

Bucky clings to all the oversized sweaters like a koala to a tree, so Sam's given up trying to get those donated. He does look quite cute in that Captain America hoodie. 

But today, a box arrives that Sam is ascending for. He can hear the fucking heavenly gates open, feels the angel's light shine upon his skin. Today is going to be a good fucking day. 

"What's Lush?" says Bucky with his cheek full of bagel.

"Oh my god." 

"Don't 'oh my god' me like you're some hip millennial, Wilson. What's Lush? You order sex toys again?"

"First of all," Sam says, and he rips the box open, "The fact that you used the word 'hip' just shows how un-hip you are." Bucky makes a face at him, "And secondly, get your brain out the gutter."

"Aw babydoll, you like me all un-hip and filthy." 

Okay, maybe Sam does, but that's beside the point. This time he makes a face at Bucky and takes the bagel out of his hand, kisses him, and also helps himself to Bucky's coffee. 

"It's beauty products and shit. Look." he pushes the box over. 

Before looking inside, Bucky winks at Sam, "Now you don't need any of those, sugar lips." 

"Stop forties-flirting with me, Barnes, and look." 

Bucky starts unpacking the box. "Ooh a geode," he says and hands a small brown paper bag to Sam. He takes his bagel back but resigns himself to the fact that it is now their coffee, "The fuck is a geode?" 

"Says here it's a bath bomb." He laughs when Bucky's eyebrow does a confused twitch. "It melts in the bath, baby," Sam says and moves a little closer to Bucky, he stands right beside him to help unpack. 

Bucky mumbles something about 'bombs don't melt but whatever.'

The box further contains body wash called Rose Jam—that Bucky actually tastes, and then makes Sam taste and of course he does because he loves Bucky and they're idiots in unity—body scrub called Dark Angel, a shampoo bar, something called a Toner Tab that'll require further investigation, scalp treatment, two face masks, and shaving cream. 

Bucky brings their coffee and a bagel to the lounge to finish breakfast. Sam's sitting on the couch, checking emails with Bucky between his legs on the carpet watching t.v. 

Old Hell's Kitchen reruns are on; Ramsey calls some poor dude a Panini Head and they both bust-up with laughter. 

"Panini Head!!" Sam wheezes at the same time Bucky makes a high pitched sound for air. He's red in his face, and it's hilarious.

"Stop!" Bucky says, but that's impossible; the more they look at each other, the more they laugh. 

Sam already feels some held up tension seep out of him just from cackling with this moron about something so stupid.

It only gets worse when Bucky snorts and declares, "I'm about to piss myself, Wilson, shut up!" 

Sam's limbs are weak with laughter, but he pulls Bucky up on the couch with him, he says, "Come gimme some sugar instead." 

Bucky shifts them, so Sam's flat on his back, somehow getting himself straddled over Sam's hips before he can even blink. Then he leans down and gets his hair all over Sam's face, which is fine because he kisses him, still sort of smiling from before. That's just the type of thing Sam could never begin to explain. Like flying but quite possibly better. 

Sam stretches out and just enjoys Bucky's lips on his, the weight of his body. They kiss for a good long while before it's clear they're headed in a completely different direction if Sam's hands plastered to Bucky's ass is any indication of events.

So Bucky says, "What you wanna do, baby boy, hm?"

"Hmm," Sam says and makes his best doe eyes, which Bucky knows is code for 'don't make choose' because he's smiling super fondly.

"You wanna get dolled up, smellin' fancy, put that rose butter on your pretty face, or you want me to do you nice and slow? Put something else on your face."

"What kind of proposal is that Barnes? Jesus, Hydra's negotiation tactics are bullshi—ah!! Okay okay!—and it's rose jam not— ahh!" 

"Yeah. So what's it gonna be, honey?" 

Sam chooses getting 'dolled up' as Bucky puts it since it's a rare thing to get a day off, and who knows, they might get called up for action later, and then he'd never find out what the hell a Toner Tab or Dark Angel scrub does.

Bucky's running a bath while Sam sits on the ottoman at the foot, reading the labels on all the products and application instructions. 

"Okay, so I get the scrub and even the weird shampoo bars. It's just this toner whatever that's got me fucked up."

"Read the label," Bucky mumbles from the bathroom.

For real, Sam thinks, what's he been doing? This thing didn't come with a label. Bucky comes out to back up his comment a moment later and takes the tab from Sam, sits down beside him. 

Bucky's grabbed another bagel from the kitchen and holds it out for Sam to take a bite, "Call Sharon," he says and takes the phone.

"You call Sharon. I'm eating." 

Buck rolls his eyes but does it anyway. He's too sweet on Sam to argue, and when he does, it's just to set Sam's blood to a little boil—he thinks Sam doesn't know, but he does; he loves it when Sam gets a little annoyed and hot under the collar. Then he throws one of his thousands of goddamn pet names at him and Sam's proper weak. 

Sharon's number rings a few times, and she picks up slightly breathless, "Sam??" There's a ruckus in the background. 

"Sharon. This is Captain America's partner, and we need your help." 

"Partner?" Sam says, he sticks his finger in Bucky's side, "What are we? Senior citizens?" 

Bucky flips him off.

"Put her on speaker." 

"Bucky? What's the matter? You guys in trouble??"

"Sharon, sweetheart." Bucky says and twirls the oversized pill around in his hand, "What is a Toner Tab?"

There's silence. Sam thinks they've lost signal.

"Shaaaronnn," Bucky says impatiently.

"I'm sorry," Sharon finally replies, and she sounds pissed instead of sorry, "Did you just ask me what a Toner Tab is?? Did I hear that, right?" 

Sam takes the phone, "Well yeah, we don't know—"

"I am working!!! Oh my god!" 

And then she hangs up and leaves them as deep in the dark as they were before the call. 

"Jeez," says Bucky. "We should give her a foot rub with the rose slime stuff."

Sam pulls his face, "That's for washing yourself with, Panini Head."

Bucky snorts then breaks out in full on laughter again, Sam follows and they kind of fall over and laugh about it on the floor. 

The Toner Tab mystery gets put aside until after the bath. Sam puts on some good old Mr. Smokey Robinson (what the hell else do you listen to when you're havin' a romantic day with your guy, right?) and then strips down and heads for the bathroom. 

When Sam gets there Bucky has placed little candles all along the edge of the bath, draped the bath mats like they're a red carpet that leads to the holy throne of water. Sam thinks he also sprayed some air freshener probably.  

Sam smacks Bucky's bare ass when he comes to stand beside him to admire the scene. 

"Goddamn, baby! Went all out, huh?" 

"Only the best for my Captain," Bucky says.

And well, Sam is kind of week for all that sweet-talking. He's trying to pull Bucky closer for a kiss, but the idiot darts away. Little pale butt jiggling as he runs.

"Forgot something!!"

"That FRIDAY can see your ass through the walls?"

"She what!?!?"

Sam laughs at Bucky's fake hysteria. 

Bucky returns with a bottle of pink champagne and a handful of plucked off rose petals—so much for Sam's beautiful flower arrangement—then throws the petals in the water because he's incredibly weird but also entirely adorable, so Sam goes with it.

"Romantic, right?" He grins at Sam.

"Totally, babe."

They get in, and the water is just on the border of scalding, steam wafts up from it as they both sit and sink down.

They make a unified "Ahhh" sound and tangle their legs together, Bucky's knees over Sam's thighs. 

Sam takes the champagne and pops it open, it spills into the bath, and even that's pretty romantic.

Bucky reaches for the small brown paper bag and says, "Let's see what this baby does." then dumps the bath bomb into the water. 

And okay, it's pretty amazing how the ball starts dissolving with faint little fizzles and colorful bubbles. They watch it topple and turn in the water, pushing it between the two of them.

Bucky says, "Smells like peach blossoms." 

"And Magnolia." Sam nods and pours some bubbly down his throat.

The bathwater is orange and sparkly once the ball has totally dissolved, and they lie there to soak it up. Bucky's smiling lazily, and Sam has his head tipped back against the lip of the bath. 

"Oh, god. This is good, huh?" Bucky's rubbing his foot against Sam's side, it's ticklish but so nice that Sam allows it.

Sam takes a deep breath inhaling the sweet scents, "Wish we had time for this shit every day."

Bucky creaks open one eye, makes grabby hands for the bottle and says, "You can, you know. Just tell 'em you're taking a week or so to recoup. Who's gonna tell Captain America he can't?"

Sam's never really thought about it. It's not like the world stops having issues or no longer needs saving. Not like the bad guys will sit around waiting for him to get done relaxing. But he's been on the burnt-out side before, he's pushed himself to unimaginable limits, and that's not somewhere he'd like to return. So his health will come first, and if that means a two-week vacation, then so be it.

"Yeah," he says, "Captain America is allowed goddamn vacation leave like everyone else, right?" He's asking the question because he's not sure if vacation leave is a thing at New SHIELD.

Bucky hands the champagne back, and Sam takes a sip.

"Damn right, dollface." Bucky winks at him and closes his eyes again, "And if he ain't, they can come talk to me." he lifts his metal hand; his wiggling fingers make a soft whirring noise. It's menacing and strangely attractive. 

"Would we even know what to do with ourselves for two whole weeks? Where'd we go?" Sam asks and runs some more hot water. 

"We could go to fuckin' Nice, honey, Marseille, Sète. Go sailing or some shit."

Bucky dips low, so only his head is above water. He's massaging Sam's ankle and calf with his right hand. 

"Hmm. France huh. Gonna call me Mademoiselle?" Sam says in his best French imitation.

Bucky gets a dirty grin on his face, rides his hand up a little higher on Sam's leg. "Depends, you gonna let me dress you up in some fancy lingerie?" He says lingerie just like he said Marseille and Sam's dick gets very excited about the entire prospect. 

"Baby, you keep talking like that you can do whatever you want to me."

"Fuckin' A," says Bucky gives another lazy grin and takes a sip of champagne.

Sam's phone rings while they're soaking. He's secretly hoping it's Sharon reporting on the Toner Tab. Instead, it's someone equally delightful. 

"Wilson, if you're talking to me while you're sitting on the toilet—"

"I'm not on the toilet."

"Then why's it echoing?"

Sam blows a kiss at Bucky, "Having a nice soak with my baby." he says. Bucky's still floaty and smiling, eyes closed. 

"Niiice," Maria says. She's off somewhere remote with Fury; he bets she'd love to have the luxury of a long hot bath right now. "You should totally shave your legs while you're at it, change your sheets, so it's fresh before you get in tonight. Better than sex." 

"Baby girl, what kinda sex you been having?" Sam asks, and she laughs right from her belly. 

Bucky yells hello from his end of the tub, and Maria talks for a while longer, tells them what to do with the toner tab, and offers a few more tips. He thinks she must really miss home if she calls just to chat like this. 

Bucky's busy lathering himself with the Dark Angel scrub by the time Sam hangs up. 

"Turn around baby, let me do you." he says, and Sam grins, then Bucky splashes water at him, "Not like that!!" then after a beat "Probably later."

So Sam gets himself turned around and lets Bucky polish his back and biceps with that scrub. He thinks he could fall asleep in the bath; it feels so goddamn good. 

They swap positions, and he does Bucky's right arm and back, and when they turn to face each other again, they do each other's chests. It ends in a steamy necking session, water lapping out of the tub, slippery hands, smooth skin. 

Bucky's twisting his nipples at the same time he bites his neck and Sam's so hard with Bucky between his legs like this; he starts getting touchy.

"What're you doing, Wilson?" Bucky says quietly against Sam's ear, inching his thigh closer to Sam's dick.

"Come on, don't tease. Just a little," he lets his legs fall open a bit more. 

Bucky dips his hand underwater and wraps his fingers around Sam, "Yeah, you see, I wanna make you wait a little; build it up, make you lose your mind later, but—"

"Buck, please come on." Sam tilts his hips up into Bucky's fist.

"But then you ask so nicely," he says, voice a low growl in Sam's ear. 

Sam's legs twitch when Bucky starts stroking him up, "Just like that. So polite, honey."

"I can get nasty if you want?" Sam's really just babbling now, got his eyes shut, it feels so fucking nice, skilled fingers, slick water, soft lips in his neck. 

"Nah, stay sweet for me," Bucky says, flipping Sam's nipple with his metal fingers.

Sam makes an unintelligible sound, some rumbling plea from the back of his throat. He's only a few more strokes away from coming, and Bucky starts kissing his neck again, soft and wet and nibbling just so.

"Buck…" he warns, grabs Bucky's ass, "Gonna—"

"Yeah, sweetheart, come for me."

Sam endures for a couple more strokes, then lets it go. He looks at Bucky when he comes, bites his lip since Bucky loves that.

"Oh christ," Bucky moans, "Sweet jesus, you're gorgeous." 

Sam does something between smiling and gasping for breath. He kind of loves this sweet garbage talk.

Bucky lets him go just as he starts getting sensitive and kisses him, a little filthy, deliberately hard.

Sam's just lying there depleted of rational thoughts, and his eyelids are so goddamn heavy he can't open them to return the favor, which makes Bucky chuckle, the idiot. But he starts washing Sam's body with that Rose Jam shit and god, that smells even better than the rock ball thing in the water. 

"I just jizzed in this water. So gross." Sam mumbles as Bucky lifts his arm to scrub under it.

"Like I haven't had that shit all over my face." 

Sam snorts, "Cause you're also gross."

Bucky leans down for another kiss, "Only for you, doll." he bops Sam's nose, "Only for your sweet ass." 

And then Bucky washes up too, and they get out of the tub since the water's turned a murky orange and gone cold. After this, it occurs to them that they hadn't washed their hair yet, so Bucky runs a shower. 

Can't have greasy hair when the rest of you is all polished and shiny. 

Sam's shaving at the basin with the cream they sent him while watching Bucky's ass in the mirror. 

"This is like washing my hair with a cookie, Sam," Bucky says. He's smearing the round soap bar around on his head. Sam's sure that's not how it works, but it's fun to watch. 

"Speaking of cookies, I gotta go to the store later. We're out of everything. Thought there was milk left, turns out it was just the empty container. In the fridge. Looking like a full one."

Bucky glares at Sam over his shoulder, "I'm recycling." then he turns away again, "The earth is dying, you know." 

"Can't come at me with global warming while I'm calling you out for being a shit."

"Just did, Captain," Bucky says. He steps out of the shower and comes to hug Sam from behind. "Honey, I'm so fuckin' clean now, think I washed some forties trench dirt off myself today." 

"Smell this stuff," Sam holds a blob of shaving on his palm. 

Bucky's naive enough to come closer but doges away just before Sam smashes it into his face. He gets his cheek, but Bucky takes off sprinting to the room with a loud cackle and "Loser!" echoing in the bathroom.

Sam, of course, chases after him with another handful of shaving cream. He finally corners Bucky in the kitchen—it occurs to him then, when looking at the floor to ceiling windows, that they're both naked and their dicks are dangling all over the place.

"Give it up," Bucky says, a little breathless, eyes twinkling mischievously. 

"Stop putting empty milk cartons back in the fridge." 

Bucky shrugs, "Eh. Like how it gets you all hot and bothered."

Sam flicks a dollop of cream at him, hits his metal bicep. "It drives me insane!" 

"Yeah," Bucky says like he's swooning, shooting Sam a wide grin, "So sexy." 

"Come here and say that, coward."

And he does, walking up to Sam and crowding his space, pressing them together up against the counter, kissing him proper hard.

"I said," Bucky nips at Sam's bottom lip, "You're a goddamn sight, baby boy. And I'm all kinds of nuts about you." 

Sam smiles, delighted with this outcome. He still smears the shaving cream evenly between his hands and smacks them down on Bucky's ass.

It leaves a perfect, white handprint on each ass cheek, which naturally has them both in complete stitches. Sam even makes Bucky stand still for a photo before he gets cleaned up. Again. 

"FRIDAY," Sam says flat on his back and naked as the day he was born. Bucky joins him on the bed. 

"Good afternoon sir, how may I be of assistance." says lovely FRIDAY.

"How's it looking with some risotto, fresh salad, and a couple of beers up in this place?" 

"Be right up sir, may I add cranberry cheesecake to your order." 

Sam pulls Bucky up to his chest, kisses his forehead. "Yeah, add that cheesecake. And uh, how long's that gonna be FRIDAY?"

Bucky gives him a devilish look, and FRIDAY being the sweetheart that she is, says, "About forty minutes, sir." even though the Tower's food never takes that long, because she probably knows what they're about to do.

"Thanks, darling," Bucky drawls and starts nibbling Sam's ear, kisses all the way down his jaw, then back up, slowly starts crawling on top of Sam. 

Sam can feel the hard press of Bucky against his thigh, and Bucky ruts against him, getting a little wet at the tip. He flips Sam over, starts massaging his ass, somehow gets hold of lotion, and smears it all over Sam's back. Smells like vanilla and cinnamon.

He starts working his hands into Sam's back, kneading and pressing and rubbing just right, in all the spots Sam needs it. So obviously he's moaning about it as all his muscles start going slack, more so when Bucky pours lotion down his crack, squeezes his ass together and slips his dick in between. 

"Oh christ," Sam breathes, clutching the sheets. His ass is going to smell like a vanilla latte on Halloween.

"Come on, baby boy," he says and taps the side of Sam's thigh, "Tighten up for me now."

So Sam squeezes his thighs together, and Bucky says, "Fuck yes, like that." and presses his dick into the narrow space between Sam's legs. 

Bucky's got one hand on Sam's back, still massaging, up his spine, then back down, dwindling on his ass cheeks, sometimes slapping his ass to watch it jiggle. And okay, Sam can totally come again if he keeps this up, holy shit. 

He's got the sheet's friction beneath him; Bucky doing all that fantastic stuff up top, so he starts rubbing himself against the mattress along with Bucky's rhythm. 

Bucky goes, "Oh shit." 

And Sam grunts a little, says, "Buck, baby," and Bucky starts going faster, leans down on Sam's back, so they're flush. 

Sam turns his head to catch Bucky's lips just in time to feel it get wet and warm between his thighs and Bucky breathing hard and fast against his mouth, tiny little shivers and twitches wrack his body. 

And well, Sam's hard too now, ready to go, so he keeps grinding down into the sheets taking Bucky along for the ride. Bucky sucks sloppy, wet kisses down Sam's spine.

He says, "You feel so good," and sweeps his hand up Sam's side, "You're so good," He's still hard, and Sam's almost there, and then Bucky whispers, "God, I love you," and Sam's gone. 

He shudders through it, breathing with Bucky, smiles when he's done, and his body is all warm and slack and satiated. 

Bucky gets them cleaned up and wrapped in their robes just before the food arrives. They eat on the bed with the midday sun gleaming in through one of the big windows, leaving strips of golden light painted across the bed. 

When they've had lunch, Sam hooks his phone up to the Bluetooth and starts singing along to Sweat until Bucky's cackling and red in the face. 

Bucky comes to sit in Sam's lap and kisses cheesecake crumbs off his lips, kind of dancing along to the song. He'll hold steady that The Winter Soldier doesn't fucking dance. 

Later, Sam fills two big glass bowls with hot water and drops the toner tabs in there. They steam their faces, with towels over their heads, holding hands because they're a couple of suckers of each other. 

Then, once they're red-cheeked and sweaty, they wipe themselves down, and Bucky gets out the face masks, but not before leaning in and giving Sam a quick kiss. Like he said: suckers. 

They make a total mess of putting the masks on; shit's sticky and runny at the same time.

"You look so stupid!" Bucky cackles and takes a photo of the blue gunk on Sam's face. 

"Not as if you look any better, like some low budget serial killer." 

Naturally, Bucky tries to wrestle Sam, and Sam tries to feed him his face mask, and they're a giggling heap on the floor with their junk out in the open again. They decide to stay like that until the masks have dried and are ready to come off. 

Sam's skin is incredibly soft when he's done, smooth, and supple; he can't stop touching it. Bucky, who is spread out in bed beside him, keeps stroking his cheeks absently too while they watch a movie.

Sam is relaxed right down to his pinky toes, and he feels all lazy and sleepy and clean, holy shit. His skin is glowing, smelling like all kinds of exotic flowers and herbs. Like a deep forest princess.

This crime-fighting job is taxing, and sometimes it seems as though there are more downsides than up, more dark times than happy ones. But then a day like this comes along where he gets to unwind and not overthink anything except when the face mask should come off or how much more mushroom risotto he can stuff in his mouth. 

He gets to laze around, eat whatever, wear loose comfy clothes, or none at all. He gets to spend precious time with his man, gets to have conversations that aren't business or mission-related and make plans for a future beyond all this. 

He gets to dream about settling down out in the country, going house hunting with Bucky, growing old and senile, and annoying the hell out of whoever takes over the Cap mantel by then. 

And, even though tomorrow is back to the grind, back to fighting the good fight, he gets to enjoy some rest and recuperation right now; get all refreshed and perky for the work that lies ahead. 

After all, there's nothing like blowing up a Nazi base or two with that fresh glow, silky skin and shaved legs.

Much later, Sharon gets back from her mission and comes to flop down on their bed instead of heading up to her suite. 

"Why do you smell like mint??" she mumbles face down in their fresh sheets. "Why does everything smell… nice?"

"Had a DIY spa day," Bucky says. He's rubbing her shoulder. 

"That's nice. I hate you." 

Sam gives her arm a light smack, "Hey now. There's still some shower gel and scrub left, Buck's gonna run you a bath with the jets on, yeah?" 

"I'm gonna what now?" Bucky says, eyes glued to the screen, and at the same time, Sharon says, "Hmmph."

"Come on. Lady's tired," Sam starts kicking him off the bed, "FRIDAY, get some chicken wings up here, maybe another bottle of bubbly." 

"Uhg, fine!" Bucky says, hauls Sharon over his shoulder, and carries her to the bathroom. 

"Oh my god, your hair smells like cookies?! How does your hair smell like cookies??" she yelps and inhales a lock of Bucky's hair.

He laughs, then says, "You should smell Sam's ass, doll." 

Sharon punches him in the ribs, as he deserves, but Sam's giggling fondly. 

He sure is looking forward to that vacation in the South of France. 

Two whole weeks of this? Paradise.