Stucky: My Blood Red Heart

10 - Friend

(TWO MONTHS SINCE I UPDATED YALL IM SO SORRY TwT)

James slid down the door, holding in sobs and gripping his elbows. This cannot be fucking happening. His hands searched the ground for his phone and he quickly propped it against his shoulder. 

"Hello? Bucky?" Sam's voice came from the other end, hushed and soft. "What's wrong?" 

"Can-" James bit back a cry that was threatening to spill out. "C-can you come here? I need a friend." 

"I'm on my way," Sam said immediately, hanging up. James listened to the dial tone until he heard a hurried knocking on the door. James opened it slowly and let Sam in. 

Sam crouched on the floor next to him, grocery bag in hand. He glanced over James' face and put two and two together. "Shit. What'd Steve say?" 

"It's not always about fucking Steve, Sam," James said harshly, eyes glued to the floor. 

"Damsel in distress on the phone, dickhead in the flesh," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I even got you ice cream." He held out a carton. James accepted it and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just pissed at the moment," He muttered, adjusting so there was room for Sam against the door. Sam gratefully sat down and handed him a spoon. 

"It's chill. You're clearly heartbroken." 

"You're so dramatic, Jesus Christ," James mumbled, shoveling ice cream into his mouth, "I'm perfectly fine." 

"Yeah, sure," Sam said sarcastically, "You only called me at ten at night, almost in tears, and I show up to see your crush has disappeared. I wonder what could have happened?" 

"I didn't ask him out if that's what you mean." 

Sam shrugged. "There's less direct ways to get rejected. What'd he say?"

James swallowed and stayed silent. Sam groaned. "Dude, I can't beat his ass if I don't have something to work with." 

James smiled thankfully. "Well... I was hanging out by the lockers to see if I could congratulate Steve - I probably would've asked him out then too - and he's behind the bushes kissing Tony Stark." 

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Shitttt. That's not good." 

"No duh, dumbass. So Tony asks him out, and they live happily ever after. The end." 

Sam bumped his shoulder. "Man, don't be so pessimistic. Steve will dump this clown and get with you soon enough."

"When is soon, Sam?! How can he be so oblivious about this? I've liked him since high school, and he's never picked up on it. It's fucking annoying." James cried out, already feeling the tears working their way down his cheeks. "I'm just done."

Sam put an arm around his shoulder, and James leaned into him.

"Look, I don't know what you expect of him at this point. It's not your fault that he doesn't realize any of it, this is him being caught up in his own world and not paying enough attention to you. As much as you want to, you can't MAKE someone like you." 

James wiped his face with his sleeve. "Yeah, I guess." 

"Dude, that was top-tier life advice, and all I get is an 'I guess'?" 

James laughed, hoarsely from his crying. "You're such a dick."

Sam smirked. "And your best friend." 

"Not for much longer, if you keep this up," James responded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Sam just grinned and shook him lightly. They stayed that way, in silence, until James pulled himself together and sighed. 

"You should get back to your dorm," He said, pushing Sam's arm off of him. Sam raised his hands in defeat. 

"Fine, fine. But I'm a floor away if you need anything. Also, can I use your crapper?" 

James snorted. "Please don't stink up my bathroom." 

Sam stuck his tongue out and stood up. "No promises." 

James felt uneasy dread flood him as Sam closed the door. Why? He had nothing in there except- 

Oh fuck.

The blood packets. 

James was on his feet in a second, voice laced with panic. "Sam, do not check under the sink!" There was the usual awkward silence that occurs when you yell at someone in the bathroom, then a laugh. There were some scrapes on the other side of the door, and he heard a fucking cabinet open. 

Oh, my God. He's gonna find them. He's gonna think I'm a freak, or stake me. I do not wanna lose another friend tonight, goddamnit. 

James took a deep breath, then slammed his shoulderblade against the door. It rattled in its hinges but didn't give. He heard a sharp breath and crinkling of plastic. No, no, fuck!

"Sam, for fucks sake! I told you not to look under the sink!" He screamed, slamming one fist against the door. It opened, and with a start, James stumbled back. 

Sam stood there, one hand gripping a red packet. Shit.

"So you're either a blood donor or...?" Sam said slowly. He sounded apprehensive, but not frightened. 

James realized his hands were trembling and squeezed them into fists. "Not exactly. The-" He paused and took a shaky breath, "-opposite."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Sam's voice wavered, and James doubted he would have picked up on it if they weren't as close. 

"I drink- I'm supposed to-" James stuttered and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm a fucking vampire, Sam."

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