Inconvenient Paws (Mar/vel -S/am+Bu/cky)
Request fic for @buckysnose 🥹 in which S/am and Bu/cky find a cat and need to find it a new home. Bu/cky is Very Allergic but Very Attached 🤭 Buckle up, because this got quite indulgent at the end. Hope you enjoy <3!
Sam sets his coffee cup down and braids his fingers together with a tipped smirk. “Whaddaya think?” The sun gleams in the rim of the ceramic mug outside the shop they've chosen to hash out their most recent mission--it's an old coffee and teahouse (The GoodBake) but they've never tried it before. Sam likes the outdoor seating: minimalism with metal tables and chairs and square bushes for faux privacy. Bucky isn't as much of a fan.
Bucky stares over his own frillier, rose-painted teacup, his RBF solid as stone. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“You always say that.”
Bucky lifts a marbled shoulder, lids fluttering with a huff, “If you stopped having bad ideas, I’d stop saying it.”
“Ouch,” Sam crosses one leg over the other and presses a hand over his heart, “Offense. Very homophobic of you.”
“It’s not June anymore. You can stop using that.” Bucky blows on his steeping tea, “It’s disability month, so it’s my turn.”
“Fair. Then I--”
A crash has them both wrenching back from the table as a glossy white cat lands on the round mesh, making the cups quake and the liquid within ribbon angrily. One perfect paw plunks into Sam’s coffee cup and he swears. “Hey! Aw man!”
The cat spears him with an indignant look, blue eyes flashing as if daring him to complain about being inconvenienced by its presence. He doesn’t have a moment to react before the door of the shop is thrown open in a flurry.
A woman with a low bob and a bad attitude painted as thick as the slash of plum lipstick on her lips stands there, wielding a broom like a broadsword.
“Git!” she caws, waving the bristled weapon toward the cat. “GIT!”
The cat’s fur poufs up and it lets out a fearful hiss. Both men fly to their feet, the other patrons looking on in concern as she rounds on the trembling feline.
Sam’s arm wings out just as the cat leaps from the metal perch with enough force to rock its already warbling legs so hard the cups topple over, spilling the cat-foot-coffee and Bucky’s tea.
“Whoa hey,” Sam calls as Bucky backs away in the direction of the cat, “hold up a minute--”
“That monster--” the lady shakes her broom toward the cat and Bucky’s shoulders contract at the word, “keeps breaking into my cupboard! Stealing biscuits!”
“It’s probably hungry,” Sam turns to peek at Bucky now making tiny kissing noises at the chalkboard sign where the animal chose to hide from the angry shopkeeper. Another noise escapes the Winter Soldier’s lips that sounds adjacent to: “Sshd’z!”
Broom bristles tickle Sam's cheek and he snaps back to knock the handle aside with a scornful huff, “Damn, lady, look,” he bats the air, “we’ll get the cat out of here, okay?”
She stares at him, eyes a burst of manic green. “Then do it fast--and make sure it doesn’t come back!”
“Alright, alright!” Sam snaps, denying her any more of his time. He spins to check on Bucky who is now using the hem of his shirt to wipe his nose, a flash of scarred ribs briefly making Sam’s gaze linger.
He swallows thickly as if a strawberry were lodged in his throat and he places a hand on Bucky’s fleshy shoulder. “Hey,” he sees the cat shadowed by the roof of the hidey hole and frowns. “Is it okay?”
“Nh, yeah, I think so.” Bucky places a treat on the ground and coos at the cat.
“Where’d you get those?” Sam’s voice is heavy with surprise and Bucky shushes him.
“Shh! You’re gonna scare-hh-HgXsch! Sndf! Scare her…”
“Out of the two of us, I think you’re the scarier one. Especially making that kind of racket.” Sam blinks a minute to process, “Wait, her?”
Bucky shrugs nonchalantly and saws his hand across his face.
Sam waves him off and kneels. “Let me take over. C’mere sweets, tnt tnt tnt…” he clicks at the feline but it buries itself further into the shadows and rumbles meekly at him.
“She doesn’t like…hhGsKng! Krff…strandgers…” Bucky snuffles, his adam’s apple raking down his throat as it thickens with congestion.
Sam stands swiftly and pins him with a look now. “Wait, you keep saying ‘she’, and…do you know this cat?”
“I…” Bucky reddens and Sam isn’t sure whether it’s from embarrassment or the clearly evident building, flaring, itching-- “Ht’SH-Rtsh-GSH!” he spritzes his fist with three sharp but tiny sneezes and sways slightly.
“You’re allergic to the cat.” Sam deadpans.
“All…cats…” Bucky murmurs.
“But you’ve been feeding her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The soldier doesn’t respond with more than his stoic stare. Sam sighs and washes a palm over his face. This guy…
“Well, she clearly wants you, and we’re going to have to take her to a shelter. You’re gonna be miserable the whole time. You know that’s your own fault, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Of course you do,” Sam whips out his phone, “Let me find a shelter.”
“Make sure it’s safe,” Bucky says as he swaps places with Sam to coax the cat toward him.
“Safe?”
“Like,” Bucky knuckles his nose, “their policies--”
“Dude,” Sam snaps, “do you think I’m an asshole??”
“Ndo, I just…c’mbere Alpine…”
“Alpine?”
“Shut up.”
Sam snorts and then flips his phone around, “Alright I found a place and it’s just a few blocks away. We could walk there.”
“Andother onde of your less than stdellar ideas,” Bucky sniffles as he offers Alpine his metal arm. She chirps at him, only looking mildly offended that she won’t get to climb human flesh before curling into the crook of his elbow.
“You better back off of my ideas, man. I’ll dangle you by your legs.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, clearing his nose with a heavier sniff. “Is that a proposition?” He uses his free hand to massage his temples, feeling the cottony cloud of histamines dulling his senses. He gives his head a little shake and it makes his legs wobble slightly.
“Dude,” Sam braces him with a warm hand on his back, “you are not okay. Your face looks like a Louisiana swamp.”
“I love how handsome you make me feel.”
“Happy to help. Let’s go before you literally dissolve.”
“Mmff…”
They get two blocks with Bucky sneezing more frequently every ten steps. His hand has barely left his pink, buttony nose and his upper lip is shiny with residue. Sam is both surprised at the calmness of the cat and amused at the passersby reacting to a buff man with a superarm holding what looks like The Queen’s Prized Feline tucked elegantly against his chest, sneezing his head off.
It makes it hard not to constantly crack jokes. “Gotta say I like you better this way. Much better. Can’t finish your annoying sentences or argue about my superior ideas.”
“Are you going to let things go? Ever?”
“Give me ah…hundred years?”
Bucky opens his mouth to retort but instead draws in a hiss of air. “Hhh-hgk--”
Sam pauses, mouth quirking as he watches the struggle. Bucky’s free hand creeps closer and closer to his face but his nose tilts up with every hitch, a subconscious thing, and it ends up becoming a chase between his hand and face. “Hieh--” nose, “Heh!” hand…
Until finally, Sam reaches out and presses his palm flat against the back of Bucky’s hand, thrusting it just so and unleashing a burst of air, “HRESHHUUU!!”
“That one sounded 100 years in the making.”
“Eghh…” Bucky fumbles one-handed into his pocket for a pack of tissues. Sam finds he never gets tired of watching Bucky do things with one hand so dexterously. It's impressive as fuck how he maneuvers the tiny pack fluidly between his fingers, ripping it open with the middle one and snaking out two cloths in a pinch.
Bucky clears his congestion and that actually makes the cat squeak in surprise.
Sam laughs so bubbly it almost sounds like a giggle. “Mother fuckin’ Bucky Barnes…allergic to cats. What a trip.”
“Gfh…you really can stop talking any time. Seriously.”
“The Winter Soldier’s Kryptonite.”
“I’ll pay you in disney pins. Snf…You like those, right?”
“Who knew the way to red light your murder sprees was to drop a litter of furballs on--”
“I have the original Steamboat Mickey--all yours if you can shut--”
They both cease as soon as they see the shelter. It’s not a happy silence.
“Is this the place?” Bucky asks as Sam checks the GPS.
“Uhh, yes…” Sam says unfortunately.
Bucky pulls the cat closer to his chest, her left paw pressing against him as if sensing his discomfort. “I don’t like it.”
“There are maybe 5 things in existence you do like. And I assume one of them is that damn cat.”
“HKSF!”
“Dude, you’re turning redder than that firetruck we passed. Maybe we should just…check?”
Bucky’s metal arm jerks back instinctively but it’s not that bad on the outside. Maybe they just haven’t repainted.
They approach the dim windowed door, Sam checking the app one more time to make sure it said OPEN. Bucky knocks with the back of his knuckles and then hoods his eyes with the slant of his palm to squint inside.
“Well it looks closed--” Sam begins but Bucky snaps the lock, prompting a wheezing sound from Sam, but the soldier presses on, his eyes roaming the now evidently abandoned building.
Sam calls in that he's going around the back to check for an alternate entrance and Bucky waves him off.
The soldier wanders the musty building, cupping Alpine firmly to him, lips razor thin as his sniffles echo through the room, seeking any sign of where to go next: a flier, phone number, anything.
He stops at the clerical desk where dust and rubble from construction has accumulated and lets Alpine down to daintily pad over the musty marble, leaving perfect pawprints behind like tracks in snow.
Bucky lifts a sheaf of paper and sniffles--at the wrong moment. The puff of dust buffets around him and he grimaces, face crumpling with a flood of stimuli.
“Hih-ih--! S-shit…” the paper crinkles in his galvanized fist and he crushes the whole mass against his face like a tissue, “Sk'dch! Eih-KSHh-gh!” The sounds bounce off the walls, warping the air as they grow in ferocity, “Hsh-SHjk! Shk-Hsk-IshFSH!! Rrr-EISHHuue!”
Alpine begins to growl and caterwaul, head dipping fearfully as Bucky gasps for air. He tries to reassure her through raspy wheezes but she’s not afraid of him. And he soon realizes what she’s warning him about.
“Oh fu--”
An earsplitting crack! above him triggers an adrenaline-fueled gut reaction and he does two things in the following seconds: he throws his metal arm over Alpine to protect her; and he turns up his super-soldier-infused arm to catch the massive segment of splintered joists and rock of the overhead building careening down to crush them both.
The split piece of ceiling halts in his outstretched hand, only quaking his muscles a hare.
“Hrg--Sam!”
The falcon speeds inside--was already returning when he heard the first sign of collapse.
“Oh no, no, hell no,” his eyes take in the Atlas situation with the addition of a startled and caterwauling feline snugglebugging so hard into Bucky that she’s attempting to pass through his body like a ghost.
“Okay, let me get someone to--”
“S-Sam, wait,” Bucky’s chest heaves, throat grating with effort and Sam’s pulse thunders in his throat.
“Oh, don’t you dare tell me I’m about to have to lift that thing off you, that is cement!”
“My t-turn for a hhhvv--bad idea…”
“Son of a--come on,” Sam flings his arms up, giving a frustrated huff. “Just, hang on,” Sam sprints around the room, brain whirring as he looks for a solution--any solution that doesn’t involve him having to lift hell knows how many tons of random construction--
“S-Sam!” Bucky hollers, voice low and carnal, “I’m gonna sneeze r-real soon, and it’s not gonna be once, hihf.. so if you would so snf kindly remove the giant...heh!”
“I don’t have super strength, Bucky! I can’t just haul it off of you!”
“HgXSh!” Bucky’s shoulders shudder and the shard does as well, tiny pebbles clattering around them like hail.
Sam’s eyes nervously flick between it and Bucky below, muscles rippling with the weight. “Gimme the cat,” he says.
“Hwha?” Bucky sputters.
“Give me the damn cat, Buck.” He tries to nudge the cat but she grunts and stares at him with all the energy of an offended loaf of bread.
“She doesn’t like you.”
“I don’t think that matters right now. You need both hands.” Sam folds his fingers around the cat and he can feel her body vibrate with the seething growl, claws clicking pointlessly into Bucky’s metal arm.
“She really doesn’t like..hh-d’Ch’GH!” Bucky’s head strikes the sinew of his stiff bicep smushing his face into the bulk of his arm to keep any followup sneezes at bay. His skin is shiny with the silk of moisture under his nose and he lets out small hitchy shivers that make more dust fan around them.
“Hgk-KxNg'eh!” Bucky barely restrains himself, chest jarring with effort. Sam's heart plays a drumbeat on his ribcage as he moves against his panting partner.
The cat starts making warped mreUUWWW REUWWW noises as Sam tugs her away from Bucky’s chest. “She’s climbing up your pecs.”
“I can f-feel that,” Bucky grunts as Sam peels the cat off one razored nail at a time.
Finally, the cat comes free and Sam tucks her in his arms, “Got her!” he skates across the room just as Bucky throws his tech arm up to catch the rubble. He groans, successfully chucking the debris from his overworked triceps.
As soon as he does, he takes a knee, disappearing in a cloud of cream colored dust and spills into both cupped hands, “H’tsh-RRsh! Fsh! DammihKXSH-eih!”
Alpine squirms in Sam’s arms but he shushes her, fingers massaging a soft spot on her neck and she stills, finally beginning to purr. Sam’s chin tips down and he lets out a small chuckle. “Finally warming up to me, huh?”
She stares up at him and her pink tongue circles her lips innocently.
“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t just hate me five seconds ago.” He checks back for Bucky who is standing now, brushing off dirt and grime, looking toward them with concern.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. So am I by the way, but I know your lack of worry is because I’m so capable and not because you love this cat more than me.”
“Sam…”
“C’mon, let’s get out of here before the whole place caves in.”
They get outside and Alpine immediately demands to be back in Bucky’s arms. Supposedly, she simply hates being outdoors and the stress is only soothed by being with her favorite Winter Soldier. So, Sam transfers her over with only a few claw marks and they cross the street, despair clinging to them like wet tar.
“Well, that was a disaster,” Sam kicks a pebble across the road.
Bucky peers down at Alpine, his eyes welling with more than allergic tears now, so bright and fervent they’re practically glowing like sapphires.
“What…do we do with her? I can’t just leave her on the street, Sam.” His face remains sober as steel but his voice cracks like fissured wood, sanded down by spirit and soul.
“I…” Sam rubs the back of his neck, “I know we can’t do that. Maybe--”
“Excuse me,” a kind voice pulls them from their pensive thoughts. They turn to see a hawkish elderly woman in a long rosy gown and a pearly smile like a kindled hearth.
“I overheard you boys, I’m sorry, but are you talking about your darling cat there?”
Bucky sniffles thickly and clears his throat with as much dignity as he can muster. “Yes ma’am.”
“Oh,” she presses a bony hand to her chest, face flitting with joy, “what an angel! If you need a home for that sweet pea, I have twelve children and thirty two grandchildren--” this statement makes Sam and Bucky share a wide-eyed look before politely returning their gaze to the fertile old lady, “...all adore animals. I’m certain I can find a loving home for…what did you name this beauty?”
“A-Alpine,” Bucky says, chest warming with hope.
“Darling,” The woman coos, “May I?” she extends her hand ever so slightly and Bucky bites his lip. But Alpine doesn’t resist so he nods and allows the woman to bury her fingers in the soft fur. “Ah, what a coat! She must be keeping healthy--that’s the first sign of decline, you know. The coat.”
Bucky’s heart picks up and Sam sees him visibly brighten.
“So, young man, would you be willing to let me rehome her?”
“I…yeah. Would you?”
“Of course.”
Bucky delicately transfers Alpine to the woman’s arms and while she’s less comfortable than she was in his embrace, she isn’t upset. It makes Bucky relax, his entire body static with relief.
They bid the woman goodbye and thank her. Bucky watches Alpine start her new journey to her furever home, his left lip ticking up a crack.
She’ll be happy. Have a home.
He feels Sam’s hands on his shoulder and back in both places he can feel them on his skin, the touch soothing and grounding. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, “She’s alright.”
Bucky nods. “Yeah.”
“And so are you.”
Bucky’s flesh hand slips into Sam’s and squeezes it, mixing their warmth. “Thanks.” He leans his head against the other man’s and smiles with both sides of his mouth.
