The one forgiven sin 《Sambucky》

00.06

But even trained assassins have hearts and a mother

He was so numb. After all the adrenalin left his body all he felt was the numbness. And the silence in his head.

When Captain America basically begged him to drop his life and go search a very fucked guy, he couldn't help but question the war icon's sanity. But, well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do.

What he did not expected, though, was running into said fucked guy.

He expected to find him loaded with different guns, armed to the teeth, a constant glare replacing his attractive facial features he had been analysing for his history class.

He, however, did not expect to find the deadly Winter Soldier about to die because of clear undernurturing in a dirty ally.

Sam had been searching for him for good half a year now together with Steve, but Captain America was needed in Sokovia thanks to Tony's arsen-committing-robot son, who decided the humans had to die after being on Reddit for five minutes straight. But hey, Sam kinda knows where the guy is coming from, if he had the power, he would probably make a move, too. However, back to the day he met the Winter Soldier.

He was in east Europe, following a lead he thought would get him nowhere. Someone claimed, they saw the assassin beat a catcaller on the streets near his apartment. But, of course, it was a fruitless search as well, the man long gone. So when Sam was walking towards his car to get him to the model he was staying in and saw a homeless man, he couldn't help but pity him.

Instantly making a decision, he jogged over while ripping off his jacket, holding it out to the man as a nice offer.

He did not expect the guy to look up with blue, confused eyes and reach out with a metal arm, ready to say thank you, but recognizing Sam last minute. He jerked back with an animalistical sound and tried scrambling away. And god, Sam could cry. He searched the man around the whole world and here he was.

Dying in an ally. Yikes.

Buckys hair was greasy, his eyes big and moist as he stared up to Sam. The bags under those blue diamonds way too ugly for Sam's liking. But for now, he was concerned with the fear of sending the assassin into a panic attack.

"Shhh! No, wait, don't move! It's okay, I won't hurt you!" He tried, raising both his palms up, in a way of surrender, before offering his jacket back to Bucky.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Bucky reached for it and shrugged it onto his shoulders. And God, Sam could cry again. The man drowned in his clothes, but still shivered, his eyes never leaving Sam. The poor baby looked like a cat dumped outside in cold rain.

"Thank you..." Bucky mumbled, and that was Sam's last straw.

"Can I touch you?" He bluntly asked, raising his eyebrow a little.

He was surprised to be met with a blushing Winter Soldier.

"Uh- What!?"

"Can I touch you? I need to help you, but for that I need you to come with m-"

"No" Sam found himself on the receiving end of the sight the Assets victims must have seen last, and, HOLY SHIT, this some heavy glare. Right there. But, well, he was not gonna get stopped.

"Look, dude, you 'bout to die real quick if I ain't gon' safe your ass, and I don't think Steve would appreciate me letting his best friend die in the cold, starved as fuck." At Steve's name, the guy lid up like a Christmas tree, but cowered onto himself not even seconds later. It seemed he tried to think of an escape route, but came up with nothing, because his shoulders relaxed and he nodded feebly. Defeated.

A very silent and awkward car ride later he opened the door to his motel room and made a beeline for his minifridge, being thankfully for having bought so much fast-food last night. But, he was no idiot, he kept Bucky in the corner of his eye. But was mildly surprised to find him staring confusedly back at Sam.

"Why are you doing this?"

"What am I doing?" He asked, perplexed, and turned to him fully. The bucket full of chicken wings heating up in his microwave.

"Helping me?" Bucky questioned, his eyeberows furrowed.
"Do you do this for Steve? Where is he?" He asked, not having moved from the door. He seemed tense again, and Sam felt himself furrow his brows.

"Dude, you think I would let you die on the streets? Why?"

"Because you think I'm dangerous?" Bucky asked, and looked at him as if Sam was the confused one.

"Well, you are dangerous, but I can hold my ground"

"Not against me." Bucky snorted, but before Sam could come up with an comeback, the microwave dinged loudly. Making Bucky flinch. Violently.

He tried to ignore it to not make the older uncomfortable, grabbed the hot bucket and took his milk out of the fridge, two plastic cups and balanced all of that towards the couch. A hand gesture later, he called out for Bucky, who awkwardly settled like three feet away from Sam on a four feet couch. Impressive.

His Ma always told him tired men were men incapable of thinking, so she teached him a trick. Chicken and milk could turn the harshest, most terrifying men into cute sleeping kittens, and to this day, that drink never dissapointed him. Not even with Mr. Glare, who had been slipping in and out of consciousness every goddamn minute after only a few bites and half a glass.

Of course Sam had to take a bite of the chicken before him, because he, in Bucky's brain, could have poisoned it. But Sam stayed away from the unopened milk, this was the real trick. This was the heaviest sleeping pill in existence.

But watching Bucky struggle so painfully obvious, slowly falling asleep, only to startle awake a second later, was hurtful. So, he did something surprising himself. Reaching behind the couch, he carefully, out of Bucky's eyesight, reached out, and tangled his dark hand in the unruly curls of the assassins hair. Sam expected telling, cursing, god, he expected to be shot.

He did not expect a half asleep James Barnes to fucking strain his neck to meet the movement, like some cute Babykitten.
But well, who is Sam to call a poor touch starved man out.

Half an hour later, the guy was dead weight, completely dosing away on Sam's couch. And Sam knew, the smart decision was reach out and send Steve a message, the guy was alive, the guy is sleeping with me, well, not sleeping sleeping, but, like, napping, and if you could turn up he-

But Sam was never one for smart decisions. So he simply... stayed. There, on the couch. His hand tangled in the older ones' hair, watching the steady rise of the others' chest. 

And boy, this broken white boy was beautiful.

But not the way Sam was beautiful. Sam was hot, like, the kind of hot, if you were on a party and you'd see Sam  you would want to fuck him, have some real passional night with him. Hot blown lust, something like that.

But the broken soul before him? You would want his face to be admired. You would want to watch it, every little expression of it. You would want him happy, is what it is. And Sam had to admit, it's exactly what he wanted, too.

But here, in the middle of the night, he had no chance to voice his thoughts as exhaustion crept up his spine and pulled him into sleep against his will.

His last thought was that he wanted Bucky to stay with him.

But Bucky, to no one's surprise, vanished as if nothing happened.