Use Your Words

When He Brings the Happy Octopus

3.

Six weeks later...

Okay, so the Daddy thing was nothing at all like Sam expected. He was no neophyte when it came to kink. Nor was he some shrinking violet. Sam was down with the dirty talk and the hair pulling and the booty smacking. So when Barnes had asked if he could call him Daddy, Sam figured they were venturing into whips and chains excite me territory. A little S&M to spice up the work week.

While Bucky might have been a Sub (an avenue which Sam intended to explore to the fullest) and he might have been into a bit of pain (see previous note), he sometimes preferred softer treatment from his more dominant partner. Less choke me, spank me and more cuddle behind me and thrust into me as you tell me how good I've been. Bucky wanted to be taken slow and deep by his big, strong Daddy who would never let anything bad happen to him.

Now, Sam didn't have time to unpack all that. But he felt that he was up to the task.

"As long as you don't ask me to fuck you while I'm wearing the Captain America suit."

Barnes squinted at him, confused and alarmed. "No, that would be weird."

Yeah, because that was the line in the sand where normal ended and degeneracy began.

The Daddy thing wasn't an incest kink, either. Not to yuck anyone else's yum, but that was a hard I think the fuck not for Bucky. And making believe that Barnes was his son as he plowed his ass like it was a Saskatchewan highway in January didn't exactly make Sam's manhood rise. No, this was about the soft, delicate bean that lurked beneath the impenetrable shell Barnes had built for survival. It was the part of Bucky that craved gentle touches and quiet words of praise. The part that wanted to be looked after and kept safe and...

In truth, the situation didn't even have to be sexual. Maybe Bucky just wanted to lay on the couch, spread out on top of his Daddy like a blanket as they watched TV. Maybe Daddy would rub his hand up and down Bucky's back or play with Bucky's hair. And then, when his eyes grew too heavy to stay open, maybe Daddy would lead Bucky to the bedroom, help him get into his pajamas, and then the two of them would climb into bed and go to sleep. With Daddy holding him close.

This revelation unlocked a protectiveness within Sam that made him simultaneously want to cry and crack open the skulls of every last twisted son of a bitch that had hurt his James.

That was what Barnes wanted to be called when those particular moods struck. He'd be James and Sam would be Daddy and how, exactly, was Sam supposed to say no to that? How could he look into those eyes, so full of vulnerability and the expectation of rejection and just turn it down? Not happening, pal. Sam Wilson was gonna be the best damn Daddy in the whole wide world.

In fact, Sam even got Bucky one of those reversible octopus plushies whose mood changed when they were turned inside out. Dark grey grumpy face octopus equaled Bucky on any normal day. Light blue smiley face octopus meant his James needed some loving. The little stuffed animal made things easier for when Barnes had trouble using his words.

Three days after ringing in the New Year was the first time that little smiling octopus got dropped into Sam's lap. An ordinary, uneventful Tuesday evening, after a dinner of penne vodka and Sam's signature meatballs that his sweet baboo had asked him to make. That right there should have been a sign of things to come. Barnes didn't really ask for a lot. Rarely did the guy come out and plainly state what he wanted. Unless it was to grumble at Sam for hogging the covers or to tell Sam to shut his yap after while they watched one of those godawful Fast and Furious films that Bucky seemingly couldn't get enough of. Yet just the day before, he had offhandedly inquired if Sam could maybe make those meatballs. If it wasn't too much trouble.