|| SamBucky (WinterFalcon Oneshots) ||

Forgive Wip

"How can you forgive me?" Bucky asks, standing a few feet away from his ex husband.

Sam stares at him coldly, a look that doesn't suit the Wilson.

"No, I don't forgive you. Probably won't for a while but you are in need of help, and it would go against my morals of being a hero. So get off your ass ans hand yourself over. Makes it easier for the both of us, yeah?"

"You know I can't. Samuel, I've told you and you never listen. Maybe that's why we never worked."

"No, the reason why we never worked was that we never saw eye to eye." Bucky doesn't flinch when a sharp, dagger sits a little too comfortable above his adam's apple. Bucky can feel it slightly dig in the skin when he swallows. Come to think of it, what did he see in him? To himself, Bucky was a useless waste of space, who only exists to make others look better. 

Their breaths mingle together and only now does Bucky realise the slight, suggestive position he's in. He tries not to think much about that and instead looks into firey brown eyes. Whenever Sam would stare at someone in silent anger, he was so glad that he wasn't at the receiving end of it.

Not that it matters now. There's no recognition there, only an icy cold look of hatred and disgust. He smirks in a manic manner. "Come on, Sammy, do it. I bet you can't. You think you can save me? Darling, I was long gone before you came into my life." He whispers, leaning forward and not wincing when the dagger lightly nips at his skin, cashing a small trickle of blood to roll down his neck.

He smiles menacingly when Sam fumbles, hesitating and readjusting his grip.

He can't do it.

Apart of Bucky is glad that he can't, but the darker side of him, the one he tried so hard to hide from seemed disappointed in the hero.

"You can't do it, can you?" He whispers.

His eyes doesn't miss the shudder the man gives him. It makes him smirk. Even after all this time, he can make Sam weak in the knees.