so I had wondered if Andrew Garfield was ticklish and was informed he was tickled in the movie âThe Eyes of Tammy Faye.â so I had to investigate. and I came out victorious.
the chasing and the panicked laughing and đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°
Anon: 22 with bucky + whoever?? i adore your fics btww
Bucky canât stop thinking about how strong Samâs gotten lately. Sam happily uses this to his advantage. 22: âWhat are you dOIHING?â Minor spoilers for Thunderbolts and Captain America: Brave New World
Sam had gotten stronger.
Bucky noticed much about him, in the few quiet moments they had together. He saw the weariness that had settled into his bones. He notedâand kissedâevery scar and poorly-healed fracture. He loved how easily Sam still smiled, even with the weight of the world on his shoulders. This apartment was too big, too shiny at times, but Sam was always there to make the edges feel real. He embraced this graver, rougher Sam.
But this most recent changeâŚBucky couldnât quite wrap his head around it.
ââScuse me, baby.â Sam murmured, half-awake, and picked Bucky up by the waist. Sam deposited him on the counter, kissed him, and grabbed a glass from the now-accessible dishwasher.
Bucky lost all command of speech. He watched Sam pour himself some orange juice and drain the glass. It made his own mouth feel dry, suddenly.
âYou good?â Sam frowned. His arms flexed as he washed the glass. Bucky tracked the movement.
âY-Yeah.â Bucky cleared his throat. âFine.â
âPinkâs a good color on you, Buck.â Sam grinned, gesturing with the glass.
âShut up.â Bucky scowled, but his face did indeed get warmer.
âLove you too. Iâll see you for dinner, Congressman Barnes.â Sam pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Buckyâs mouth. Bucky pulled him back in by the collar of his shirt and attempted to impress on Sam just how much he loved this new life with him via his mouth.
It took a while. With how tightly Sam held him, he didnât seem to mind.
âŚ
âBuck. Bucky.â
Bucky jolted awake. He processed Samâs warm smile and gentle touch quickly enough to avoid drawing the gun hidden in the couch cushions.
âMmm. Hey.â Bucky stretched, reaching for Samâs hip. Sam squeezed his hand.
âCâmon, letâs go to bed.â
âWha? What time is it?â Bucky fumbled for his phone on the coffee table. The screen brightness singed his retinas.
âItâs only 8:30.â Bucky frowned.
âItâs past your bedtime, gramps.â
âFuck off,â he said without any heat.
âYouâre drooling on my throw pillows.â Sam huffed. Buckyâs gaze trailed over himâhe was still wearing the bottom half of his Captain America suit. It fit him very well, and Bucky let himself admire this, as he could not be seen fawning over the good Captain in public.
How lovely it was to open his eyes here, the first place that was really starting to feel like his own, and see Sam there. Changes, indeed.
âIâm not coming to bed yet. Did you evenââ Bucky wiggled around so he could see Sam betterâ âDid you eat?â
âYea, baby. Iâve been talking to you this whole time. I thought you were ignoring me, but then I heard you snoring.â The corner of Samâs mouth lifted just slightly, but it still brightened his whole face.
âI donât snore.â Bucky frowned.
âLike a freight train.â Sam gave Buckyâs chest a fond pat. âAt this point, X-Files is watching you. Câmon.â
Sam extended his hand.
âIâm not going.â Bucky sniffed petulantly and settled down into the cushions.
âIâm not asking. Weâve got an early morning with the Secretary tomorrow and I donât wanna hear you complaining.â Sam wiggled his fingers. Bucky turned up his chin. Sure, this was a stupid hill to die on, but heâd already planted his flag.
âBuck. Give me the remote.â
âCome and get it.â Bucky folded his arms behind his head, dropping the remote beside his pillow.
âNext time I ask you, Iâm gonna kick your ass. Give me the remote.â Samâs voice sent a shiver down his spine. Not unpleasantly.
âYouâre gonna kick my ass? You, Americaâs Sweetheart?â Bucky smirked. He squinted at the TV, trying to suss out how many episodes of X-Files heâd slept through.
Sam lunged. Bucky rolled backwards over the arm of the couch, landing with the remote in hand like one of his favorite knives. He expected Sam to stop. Reevaluate, at least. Instead, Sam swept his legs, caught him, and hefted him bridal-style into his arms.
Buckyâs mouth forgot the shape of all the words heâd learned over the years, even the snarky ones he so badly wanted to launch, leaving him spluttering out nonsense. Heâd never beenâŚcarried before. Not like this.
He flung his legs up and went to wrap them around Samâs neck, fully intending to bring him downâeven at the cost of another coffee tableâ but Sam smoothly blocked and flipped him. Bucky laid draped over Samâs shoulder like a sack of potatoes for several stunned moments. Sam locked his arm across Buckyâs legs, and it may as well have been a steel bar. He started moving them towards the bedroom, whistling all the while.
When did this happen? Sam had always been a good wrestlerâgood fighter, reallyâbut he never contested Buckyâs strength directly. He moved with Buck, or around him, the wake to his tide.
He tested his legs against Samâs grip, fully planning to somersault out of this, as he did most things. A strong hand dug into his thigh and all of Buckyâs logical thought fell out of his ears.
âWhat are you dOIHING?â All the air rushed from Buckyâs chest in a great squeaky torrent. He couldnât evenâgod, he couldnât even pretend to be unbothered, not with Sam tickling the shit out of him.
âBullshit deterrent. Since youâre so damn determined not to cooperate.â Sam gave his ass a conciliatory pat, then went back to tormenting him. Laughter fell easily from him, what with Sam shaking it out.
So unbelievably stupid. One man had turned over a century of carefully-built reputations and walls. One man whoâd apparently found the spot behind Buckyâs knees that made him hiccupâagain, so deeply stupid.
âYouâre so cute.â Sam murmured, and Bucky probably wasnât supposed to hear that, but he did. It made his whole chest buzz. He growled.
âI am notââ
âShut up, giggles.â Sam reached up to pinch at Buckyâs hip and he shrieked.
âS-Sam!â Bucky fisted the back of Samâs shirt. God, this was all so much. Samâs presence in his life shook him up like a soda can. Bucky didnât know what to do now with the fizzing in his chest.
âGoing down.â Sam flipped Bucky hard over his shoulder, sending him bouncing down onto the mattress. His laughter flew with him. He tried to launch himself at Sam, but his partner yanked his legs out from under him. Before Bucky could think, Sam had one of his legs in an armlock and was tickling the shit out of his foot.
âIâm gonna kick you! You asshole!â Bucky cackled madly.
âYou better not!â Sam threw himself on top of Bucky likely to prevent itâBucky had accidentally put him through a wall before. They rolled around for a while, all half-huffed laughs and wide smiles, until Sam got his hand under Buckyâs arm and he screamed.
Bucky rolled them and caught Sam in a searing kissâa transparent distraction, but a functional one. Bucky tangled their legs together and pulled him close. Sam hummed into his mouth, pulling Bucky up towards him. Samâs hands wandered, eager and grateful to touch every damaged inch of Bucky without pause. This, mercifully, had not changed. Bucky hoped, despite the voice that delicately crooned falsehoods in Russian in the back of his head, that it never would.
Bucky broke the kiss with something between a giggle and a yelp, his hand flying to his ribs. He grabbed Sam with the other. Sam grinned like an imp, pinching fingers arrested in a metal grasp. Bucky could only imagine what he looked like right now. If he was even a quarter as red-faced as he felt, he was going to fling himself into the Potomac.
âYouâre so annoying! Cut it out.â Bucky tried to kill his nervous smile. It evaded him.
âWhy? Because youâre a congressman?â Sam crawled on top of him.
âNo, because you love me.â Bucky pressed Samâs captive hand to his heart. Sam kissed him sweetly between his brows.
âNah, sorry, you shouldâve gone with the congressman thing.â Samâs hands shot down to Buckyâs ribs again. He recoiled just in time to avoid a broken noseâheâd learned his lesson from last time, apparently.
âA-Alright! Iâll go to bed, just quit it!â Bucky grit his teeth through a vicious giggle fit in hopes that his dignity would return to him. Sam relented with a final squeeze to his side, then rolled off of him.
âIâm gonna kill you tomorrow.â Bucky groused, pulling Sam closer by the arm. Sam snuggled up behind him as requested. He flung the covers messily over both of them.
âWith how you sleep? Iâll be at the White House before youâre even in the shower.â Sam kissed his shoulder.
âIâll be at the White House before youâre out.â Bucky pinched Samâs arm. Sam pinched his hip, and the resulting flail was enough to get them both in line.
âGo to sleep, old man.â Bucky could hear Samâs smirk. He could let it lie. He could go to sleep and make sure they were rested for an incredibly important meeting tomorrow. He could choose peace.
âDamnit, Bucky!â Samâs cackle shattered the night âand with it, any promise of them getting to work on time.
