There was that time Bucky fell asleep on the jet with his head in Sam’s lap. Joaquín came to give them an ETA, and when he saw Bucky asleep like that he got this real soft expression on his face, like seeing at a puppy sleeping belly-up. He crouched in front of Sam and traced the bridge of Bucky’s nose.
“Hey sleepin’ beauty, we’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Bucky grumbled an incoherent protest.
“Sam’s not gonna sit here all night for you,” Joaquín reasoned. “Gotta wake up.”
“No,” Bucky griped and rolled over. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s middle and Sam honestly couldn’t tell if Bucky was still sleeping when he mumbled, “Sam, stay.”
Joaquín just smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and squeezed Sam’s hand before heading back towards the cockpit.
bee, sugar to my lemonade, honey to my hot cup of tea, you know i gotta ask about "more warmth"! <3
Oh dear you know its gonna be another fluff fic! Bc writing soft sambucky fic is how I give you hugs over the internet! Hmm might be a 5+1 but might just be an escalating series of events that gets Sam in Bucky’s personal space. So for you, my peach, *slides snippet under your door in a heart-shaped envelope*
“Hey, Sam,” Bucky whispered. “Sam!”
“What?”
“Are you cold?”
“M’fine.”
Sam was cold. But damn if he was gonna admit it. Bucky had said the temperature was going to drop after the rain. Sam had smirked and said it was cute he was already pretending to know Louisiana’s weather. And it was a warm rain, nothing to be bothered by, just as Sam had thought. But fuck if it hadn’t dropped far below Sam’s level of comfort after sunset, just as Bucky had thought. They were taking the boys camping and it was a matter of pride. This was Sam’s turf, he could handle a little chill. Besides he wasn’t that cold.
Bucky shuffled around in his sleeping bag on the other side of Sam. The boys were in the tent beside theirs. The wind picked up just a little, and it howled eerily through the tree branches, making it sound worse than it was. Sam shivered.
“Sam—”
“Should we check on the boys?” Sam rolled over to squint at the greyish lump he knew was Bucky.
“Nah, I put extra blankets in their bag. And those nifty hand warmer things.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, found em at the store.”
“Huh.”
Sam wasn’t gonna say it was nice, Bucky coming on their camping trip, but well he’d certainly been prepared. And thoughtful taking care of the boys like that. And helpful carrying their gear around. And, alright, pretty cute when he was setting marshmallows alight much to the entertainment of Cass and AJ while they ate dinner around their small fire. When he blew the flames out to grin at his charred marshmallow and bite into it, getting sticky sugar all over his lips and chin, then turning to smile at Sam like this was the most fun he’d had in 70 years.
Buckyquin, touch-starved Joaquín, sick fic, fluff and smut
on Ao3
Barnes slides his hand in the door before Joaquín can shut it in his face.
“Look, Barnes,” Joaquín gripes, “it’s touching how much you—”
“Sam told me to check on you.” Bucky promptly pushes past Joaquín without invitation.
“—don’t care at all.” Joaquín sighs, resigns himself to the added headache as he closes the door. At least Barnes has the decency to take off his shoes before going into the kitchen.
Bucky picks up the bottle of ibuprofen on the counter.
“This all you’re taking?”
“It’s what I have.” Joaquín’s elbows hit the counter with an uncomfortable thunk. He lets his head hang, mumbling his next words. “I don’ needa z-pack okay? ’M just gonna sleep it off.”