longing. [sambucky]

𝟐𝟏: would you look at that

With a racing heart, Bucky felt like he was back in the hands of HYDRA. It reminded him of the anticipation. The hands on him. The smell of rust and something metallic, probably his own blood, or the blood of some innocent victim he'd slaughtered. The guilt of the blood should have been what made him crumble, shatter to pieces, but it never was. It was the hands that had him sobbing and screaming. The touching...

Sam touched him. Like an electric jolt, a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach, a blanket of warmth and home draped over his shoulders.

"We don't have to do this," Sam said.

Bucky's eyes flew wide and he shook his head, putting his hand on top of Sam's, where it rested on his shoulder.

"No, Sammy, I want to it's only that I just..." he sighed, "I can't remember when I'd last felt adrenaline, not associated with a fight. You know?"

Sam tilted his head adorably and Bucky just melted. He shut the door, locked up the apartment, something to do so he wouldn't wrap his arm around Sam and bury his face in his neck. Breath him in, feel his arms around him.

"I was always on edge, at HYDRA," Bucky explained. "Feeling my heart pounding... just reminded me."

Sam nodded, eyes dropping to the floor.

"I didn't know I made you feel that," his tone was strange, disheartened.

"Anticipation?"

"No, anxiety," Sam said. "I don't want to do that."

Bucky felt furious for a moment, at the fact the beaches surrounding their Italian town were pebbled. Because he would very much have liked to bury his head deep in sand at that moment.

"Sam."

The dark-eyed man looked up as Bucky squeezed his hand.

"Jamie," he said, tone laced with sarcasm but the way his voice broke suggested that he liked the way the name tasted.

"Sammy," Bucky whispered back. "I'm ready to go on a date with you, dipshit."

His world-stopping smile danced on his lips as Sam linked his arm with Bucky's.

"If you feel anxious and don't tell me, I'll destroy your sage-green coffee machine."

"Then I'll tell your sister," Bucky smirked. "She'd tell you off."

Sam scoffed as they walked together, with linked arms into town. It was a quiet evening, the temperature pleasant, with a seaside breeze now the sun had set.

"You say that like I listen to a word Sarah says," Sam chuckled.

"She's the only person you listen to!" Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

"Not true," Sam murmured.

Upon contemplation, Sam realised Bucky was probably right. Sarah reminded Sam of his mother so much that he couldn't help but listen to her.

"You certainly don't listen to me," Bucky nudged him with a cheeky grin.

The old streetlights that lined the streets had a cool glow to them, mixing with the moonlight to light up Bucky's pale skin. Making his flushed cheeks stand out like fallen apples in snow.

"I think you're better at listening to me," Sam replied, slowing as they approached the restaurant he'd chosen for their date.

"I never listen to you," Bucky teased.

Sam looked around, upon realising there were no old homophobic Italians lurking around, he unlinked their arms and crowded in against Bucky until his back hit a wall. He let out a gasp from the impact, though it was too gentle to cause that, Sam suspected it was from shock or excitement. Perhaps something else.

"I think you'd listen to anything I said," Sam whispered against his lips, trailing them to his jaw but never putting enough pressure to call it a kiss.

"Do you now?" Bucky croaked as Sam's fingertips brushed the column of his neck that was so beautifully exposed in the dim light of the empty street.

Every whisper and gasp seemed to bounce off the walls.

As quickly as it had happened, Sam leant back. But not without a smirk, that made Bucky want to grab him by the collar of his shirt and never let him go. Sam turned around, looked at the restaurant and the pretty fairy lights twinkling like stars along the pathway leading to the entrance.

Sam pressed his lips together in thought before grabbing Bucky's hand.

"I have a better idea."

"What?!" Bucky laughed as Sam tugged him along by the hand, until the two of them were running along the street like children. "Where are we going?!"

"The last showings are at 10! Come on!"

"What?"

Sam slowed down as they approached a funny looking building. Almost as if someone had taken inspiration from an American theatre and placed it in some old Italian house.

"You feel anxious around lots of people," Sam panted, gesturing with his hands. "So, how about a film? Even if there are people, cinemas have a strange way of making you feel like the person your with is the only other person in the world."

Bucky smiled up at this magnificent man in his shirt that made his skin glow and his eyes sparkle, and thought of how he wished it was just them in the entire universe.

Sam had only taken him to a movie theatre, but Bucky leant up on his toes, wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him like he'd gifted Bucky the entire world.

Sam froze before letting out a soft laugh into the kiss, cupping Bucky's face like a prized relic to kiss him back.

"I thought that was for at the end of a first date," Sam whispered against his lips.

"Shut up."

Sam bit his lip, pressing a brief kiss to Bucky's cheek before taking his hand and nodding to the funny-looking film theatre.

"I want to see an animation," Bucky declared as they walked to the counter.

"That so?"

"Mhm," Bucky nodded. "I have a poor attention span and the last time I went to see a film in the cinema was probably Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. So. Let's see how much it's improved?"

Sam grinned, facing the lady at the counter.

"Um... two," he held up two fingers. "Uh... Animacíon?"

She raised a brow comically and Bucky held back a laugh, and the fact he could speak multiple different languages. One being Italian. Watching Sam struggle was far more amusing.

"Disney?" she asked and Sam nodded, clearly embarrassed by the language barrier. "Ah. Luca. Screen three."

Sam payed and took their tickets, looking at Bucky.

"What's got you all giggly?" Sam mumbled grumpily. "You should try speaking Italian yourself."

"I can."

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm fluent in Italian," Bucky smirked, keeping his eyes ahead as they walked into screen three.

"Would you look at that, I still hate you."

Bucky laughed and squeezed his hand.