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ceealaina · 3 years

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Title: How to Win a Supersoldier in Ten Months Ship: WinterFalcon Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Protective Sam Wilson, Enemies to Friends to lovers, Snark, Pranks, Humour, Sexual Content, Happy Ending LInk: AO3 Summary: When they realize that all the Winter Soldier's interactions with Sam are just him trying to Awkward MurderBot Flirt (TM) with the sexy man, Steve, Tony, and Nat convince Sam to play the honeypot and bring Bucky in. Sam's pretty sure the honeypot isn't supposed to fall in love with the target, but what can you do? Word Count: 14,901

Mission Parameters: Kill the mark, Captain America, by any means necessary.

Means: Violence, murder, subterfuge, lying, distraction, seduction… Seduction.

Mission Strategy Means Updated.

Means Target: Natalia Romanova. Negative. Subject Immune.

Means Target: Steven Rogers. Negative. Subject--t-t--t-t- no no no. Not St- error.

Asset reset.

Means Target: Sam Wilson. Positive. Means Selected.

***

Looking back, Sam supposed it all started back in Washington. When the steering wheel had been ripped out of his hand while he’d been driving, his initial reaction had been sheer terror, along with a healthy dose of ‘what the fuck’ because, again, he’d just had the steering wheel ripped out of his hand while he was driving.

But there’d been a moment on that overpass when, for just an instant, the Winter Soldier had stilled, head tilting curiously as he peered at Sam. And then again, after Sam had kicked him in the back to get him off Steve. Of course he’d followed that up by kicking Sam about three times as hard on the helicarrier and then pulling his damn wing off, so he hadn’t thought too much of it.

Only then it kept happening.

After they’d ended the Hydra mess at SHIELD, and taken down the helicarriers, and Steve had been found half-drowned on the riverbank, they’d ended up in New York. Or, more specifically, they’d been co-opted to New York when Stark had shown up approximately five minutes later and immediately started coordinating with Natasha to get a handle on everything from clean up and PR to arranging care for Steve. The next thing Sam knew, he was moving into an apartment in Avengers Tower that already contained half his furniture.

There’d been the whole awkwardness with the revelation that Barnes was likely responsible for the death of Tony’s parents. Steve had hemmed and hawed about what to do with the information and while he’d still been dithering Natasha had gotten impatient and just told Tony herself. There’d been a lot of screaming and yelling and things had been pretty tense for awhile, but in less time than Sam would have expected, Tony seemed to come to terms with the fact that Barnes hadn’t truly been responsible. And as an added bonus, he managed to convince Steve not to take off after Barnes half-cocked and without a plan.

Only, as it turned out, he wouldn’t have had to go far because Barnes, it seemed, had followed them to New York.

He and Steve were on a run “together,” which mostly consisted of Steve being an eternal asshole and lapping Sam around the park. He was just passing from under one of the bridges when something slammed into him from the side, knocking him into the grass. It wasn’t as painful as it could have been, but he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he yelped loudly when he rolled over to find the former Winter Soldier looming over him.

“Um.” Sam swallowed hard, felt his heart pound in his chest. “Hey there.”

Barnes didn’t speak, just stared down at him. Trying not to spook him with any sudden movements, Sam drew his legs up, trying to regain his footing. But the second he started to pull himself into a seated position, Barnes moved, giving him a hard enough shove that he found himself flat on his back again, although it hadn’t hurt.

“Okay,” Sam said, holding his hands up. “You want me here, that’s fine.”

For just a second he could swear that he saw the hint of smirk on Bucky’s face.

And then Steve’s voice came from further down the path, yelling Bucky’s name. Sam turned automatically at the sound of his voice, and when he looked back again Bucky was gone. By the time Steve zoomed up beside him (not even winded, the asshole), Barnes was long gone.

“You alright?” Steve asked, looking at him in concern.

Sam nodded, pulling himself to sitting and waving Steve off when he moved to check him over. “I’m fine,” he grunted, brushing dirt off his knees. “He just… Pushed me.”

“He… Pushed you?” Steve repeated. He looked confused, but Sam could see the smile twitching at his lips.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“At least he’s getting less violent?” Steve offered. “That’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam agreed, taking the arm Steve offered and letting him pull him to his feet. “That’s a huge consolation for me. Maybe he confused me for you too, huh?”

***

The next time it happened, Sam was alone, coming back from a dentist appointment, of all things. He was on a relatively quiet street uptown, no one else in sight. He was checking his phone when there was the clank of metal on metal. Before he could look up he was suddenly being doused with a large spray of water.

“What the fuck?” Sam hollered as he was drenched immediately, coughing a little as some of the water got in his mouth. It took him a minute to realize that it was the fire hydrant that he was being sprayed with, another minute to figure out which way was up and get out from under the spray. “What the fuck?” he asked again, coughing and trying to catch his breath. He leaned against the wall of the building and when he looked up he caught a brief glimpse of a very familiar figure standing on the other side of the spray.

It was, at least, a warm day, so Sam didn’t risk hypothermia on his trek back to the tower. That was about the only consolation he had, and by the time he made it home he was uncomfortable and cranky. He couldn’t even be surprised when the elevator opened on the common room floor instead of his own to reveal Steve and Tony. They were arguing amicably over something but stopped when they spotted him, eyes going wide in twin expressions of surprise.

“Um.” Steve snorted and Tony elbowed him. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Your boyfriend,” Sam grumbled, shoving past them because as long as he was here he was going to steal some of those cookies that Tony bulk ordered.

Steve gaped after him. “My… How…” He started before Tony elbowed him again. “Wait, you mean Bucky? Bucky did this?”

Sam shot him a look over his shoulder. “Who else would I be talking about?”

“Right,” Steve agreed, still looking confused. “But why?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Sam asked.

“I think he means more ‘how.’” Tony offered. “Was it an ambush? Did you go after him?”

“Do I look like I got a death wish?” Sam asked with an arched eyebrow. “No, man. I was just walking down the street and all of a sudden I got attacked by a fire hydrant.”

“A fire hydrant?” Tony repeated incredulously. “That’s… A less than effective means for a murderbot.”

“No shit,” Sam agreed. “I wouldn’t have even known it was him if he hadn’t stuck around to gloat.”

He saw Tony mouth a ‘what the fuck’ to himself, before shrugging. “Maybe he’s breaking through more of his brainwashing? Little less murder in the bot?”

“Don’t call him a murderbot,” Steve told him absently, still frowning like his brain hurt. “Why do I feel like I’ve heard this story before?”

***

And then there was the bush.

It had been weeks since the fire hydrant incident, and for all anyone could tell, Barnes had ghosted. No one could track down any sign of him, not Natasha with her super spy skills, not Tony with all his tech and algorithms, and not Steve with his can-do attitude.

Sam was supposed to be meeting Steve for a late dinner, some tiny, hole-in-the-wall place that Steve swore by. Steve, of course, was running late, and Sam was waiting for him outside (since the last time Steve had been ‘running late’ he’d ended up sitting alone at a table for nearly an hour while the servers gave him pity looks, thinking he’d been stood up). One minute he’d been dicking around on his phone to pass the time, and the next thing he knew there’d been a vice grip around his arm, another around his mouth, and he was being hauled into the alley around the corner.

(Though if anyone asked, Sam had not been so distracted that he’d let someone get the jump on him, world’s greatest assassin or no.)

It had taken him a second to catch his bearings after he was practically thrown against the wall and when he looked up there was Bucky, looming over him. Sam could barely make out his face in the shadows and felt his heart start to race.

“ Hey man,” he said, trying to keep calm. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”

There was a noise near the front of the alley, and suddenly Bucky was brandishing a knife, holding it threateningly in his hand. Sam tamped down on the reflex to yell; he didn’t know what Bucky’s reaction would be to that, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be good. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that taking him on in wingless hand-to-hand would be anything other than suicidal, so his best bet was to stay calm and try and work some other way out of here.

And then, while he was still weighing his options, Bucky’s other hand came up. For the briefest of seconds, Sam thought he was holding a dead animal of some kind (it was a scary situation, he could forgive his eyes for playing tricks on him) but when Bucky threw the lump at his feet, it turned out to be some kind of bush.

“Uhh… What’s this?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Bucky blinked at him. “Yours,” he replied, voice sounding gruff and unused. “It’s… Yours.”

“Um.”

And then, while he was still trying to figure out what that meant, Steve’s voice sounded from the street, calling his name. Sam’s head shot up and before he could think the better of it he was shouting back.

“Here! I’m down here!”

Bucky snapped his head to stare at him, eyes wide and wounded before he turned and ran deeper into the alley. In the scant seconds it took Steve to reach him, Bucky had disappeared again.

“What the fuck are you doing in the alley?” Steve asked before he caught sight of Sam and the look on his face. “Shit. Are you okay?”

“Uh.” Sam reached down and picked up the bush. “Your friend’s back.”

Steve stared down at the plant in his hand and some kind of realization cleared across his face. “Oh,” he said, the word coming out on an exhale. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Sam said, before shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I’m good.”

“Okay, good. I think we should go back to the tower. We’ll order in.”

Steve steered Sam out of the alley with a hand on his lower back, and he didn’t need it but it was reassuring enough that he didn’t tell Steve to knock it off. He also didn’t let go of his plant.

By the time they made it back to the Tower, Tony and Nat were waiting for them after Steve’s frantic texts, and Sam was feeling a little less shaken.

“Did he just…” He shook his head as the elevator deposited them on the common floor. “Sorry, man. I thought he was gonna kill me, but he just brought me a bush.”

Tony looked at Sam like he was a fucking idiot. “D’you mean a plant? Like a bouquet but manly? You know, to match his… Murderlicious aura?”

Sam gave him a withering glare. “I know you don’t know me that well yet, but I’m not an idiot, Stark. It’s a goddamn bush,” he explained, holding up the bush in question. He could feel his ears heat with suppressed frustration.

And it was a goddamn bush. He felt a small modicum of satisfaction when Stark’s eyes widened as he took in the root structure, the clumps of dirt falling and breaking all over his precious floor. Sam was half expecting a reprimand, even had a snarky response ready, but Tony wasn’t even looking at him. He only had eyes for Steve, which Sam figured wasn’t anything new.

“Steve, oh my god.”

Steve sighed heavily, rubbing at the back of his neck. “So you see it too, then?”

“Oh my god,” Stark repeated.

Sam finally put the bush down, since it seemed nobody was about to yell at him for dragging it in here. He felt weirdly reluctant to set it aside, even though it was heavy. “What?” he asked, resigned.

“Sam, don’t freak out,” Steve started, and Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Steve either didn’t notice or didn’t care, moving forward to take Sam’s shoulders in both of his big hands. Sam would have laughed at him for being so cheesy, if not for the painfully earnest look on his face. “I think… I think the Winter Soldier has a crush on you.”

Sam blinked back at him as Natasha, who up until now had been observing their exchange with mild interest, cracked the fuck up, laughing so hard she actually grabbed Tony’s shoulder for support. Sam could feel his ears definitely heating up now, the flush migrating down his neck and back.

“Like a big crush,” Stark emphasized, spreading his arms wide to demonstrate his point. “Huge.”

Sam sighed and shook Steve off, rubbing at his forehead. “You all don’t have to sound so thrilled about it,” he grumbled, with a particular glare for Natasha who was still cackling in the background. “Damn.” He sighed and sank onto one of the couches, leaning forward to rub at the tension he could feel building in his neck. He gave a half-hearted kick at the bush, trying to ignore the twinge of guilt that went through him when he did. There was something weirdly endearing about it in a sad sort of way, the tendrils of dirt clinging to the roots. He cleared his throat, feeling weird about the direction his thoughts were taking. “What did the bush do to him anyway, kill his parents?” he asked to cover up his fascination with it. He was pretty sure nobody present was a mind reader, but since he apparently hung out with superheroes now, you couldn’t be too sure (especially Natasha).

There was a beat and he looked up to see Steve staring at him with wide eyes and Tony looking mostly exasperated. Sam just shrugged, out of fucks to give.

“Too soon?” he asked Tony, giving him a slightly guilty smile.

Tony just rolled his eyes. “I can’t decide if I like you, or hate you,” he told him.

Sam shrugged again. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

That got him a laugh before Tony clapped the still horrified looking Steve on the back. “Relax, Cap. We’ve all moved on. The question now is what to do about this boytoy of yours.”

“We were never like that, Tony, you know that,” Steve told him with the voice of someone who had said it a thousand times before.

Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “Who said I was talking to you?” he asked before the two of them turned their gaze back onto Sam.

“Wait, no, what?” Sam held out his hands, palms up. “He’s not my anything.”

“You know,” Nat said, apparently finally managing to get ahold of herself. “I hate to say it—,”

“No you don’t,” Tony interrupted, grinning at her.

Nat shot him a smirk back. “But we could use this to our advantage.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, staring over at her with wide eyes. “We could what now?”

Nat just rolled her eyes. “Oh, relax. I’m just saying, if Barnes likes you, we could use that to our advantage. Let him come to you, let him start to trust you, and then get him to understand that we’re not here to hurt him, we want to help him.”

“But it’s demeaning,” Sam protested, wincing at the blank stare that Nat sent his way. “I mean, it’s not… It’s just…”

This time both she and Tony cracked up, snickering to each other, and Sam shook his head at Steve. “What have you dragged me into, man?” he grumbled. He was working with a bunch of assholes. Steve just shrugged helplessly as Natasha gave a very unladylike snort.

“Relax, Sam,” she told him again. “Don’t act like you’re the world’s first honeypot. I’d offer to do it myself, but clearly I’m missing a key element or three. And he already likes you, which is half the battle.”

“No one’s asking you to marry the man, Samwise,” Tony added. “You don’t even gotta put out. Just… Let him know he can trust you and then bring ‘im in when the time is right?”

“Please, Sam?” Steve added, all hopeful and heart-eyed. It was those eyes that did it, those big, blue Captain America eyes looking so damn eager that Sam found he couldn’t say no.

“Fine.” Sam sighed, burying his face in his hands against the headache he could feel coming on. “Fine, let’s do this.” He looked up at Steve, narrowing his gaze slightly. “Those eyes of yours are dangerous, man.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony sighed.

***

The problem was, Bucky may have liked him but Sam still had no idea how to track him down. He was likely tracking them -- three different encounters seemed like too many to just be a coincidence -- but Sam had no idea what would trigger Bucky to actually show up.

Natasha had been worried that if he showed too much a pattern then Bucky might get suspicious and take off, and Tony had started working on a code that would create an algorithm for when and where Sam should go, and Steve had wanted to create a list of everywhere he might be so that he could scope out hidden spots to watch from ‘just in case’ (Sam wasn’t sure if the ‘just in case was for himself or Barnes).

Sam had ignored them all, and taken to sitting at the same bench in the same, relatively quiet part of Central Park at the same time every morning (weather permitting), holding two cups of coffee. Surprisingly, it had only taken eight days before a shadow had loomed over him and Sam had looked up to find Barnes staring down at him.

“Hey man,” he said, hoping the supersoldier super senses didn’t extend to hearing the way his heartbeat still insisted on doubling up at the sight of him. He extended the hand holding the coffee cup that he hadn’t been drinking from. “Coffee?”

Bucky blinked down at him, and it was hard to tell when he had that resting murder face, but Sam was pretty sure that was the look of an assassin who was taken aback. There was a long moment where they just stared at each other and then, slowly, Bucky reached out and took the coffee from Sam’s hand. An even longer moment, and then Bucky sat down beside him, leaving a careful amount of space between them.

“It’s just black,” Sam told him, more for something to say than because he thought Bucky would actually care. “I didn’t know how you took it.” And then, after another long moment of silence, “Steve’s not coming, by the way. He doesn’t even know I’m here. Tony does, or well, Tony’s ceiling robot does, because I’m not an idiot, so you know. Don’t try anything, I guess? But Steve’s not coming, so you can relax or whatever.”

He chanced a glance over at Bucky. He was staring straight ahead, face revealing nothing, but Sam thought his shoulders were just a fraction less stiff than they had been.

“So everyone seems to think you have a thing for me,” Sam said. “That’s cool man, but we’ve gotta talk about your flirting skills. Are you secretly in the second grade? I didn’t have pigtails to pull, so you had to sic me with a fire hydrant instead? Anyway, that kind of aggressive technique isn’t really the done thing anymore. Toxic masculinity is a thing, my man. Can’t be afraid to show your feelings, you know?”

There was a beat of silence and then Sam yelped as Bucky reached out and shoved him off the bench, knocking him to the ground and spilling the remnants of his coffee all over himself.

He wasn’t hurt, beyond his pride, and Sam had to admire that a little. He was under no misconceptions that Bucky couldn’t have seriously injured him if he’d wanted. Still, he took his time rolling over only to find that Bucky had immediately manspreaded over the entire damn bench, taking up all the room he had without Sam beside him. “Asshole,” Sam grumbled, giving him a flat stare.

Bucky seemed unphased, taking a long swallow of his coffee before getting to his feet. “Sugar,” he told Sam, the only word he’d spoken at all. He stared down at him a minute before he tossed his coffee cup in the trash can and walked away.

It was barely there, but Sam could just see the barely hint of a smirk on Bucky’s face. “Yeah,” he sighed, picking himself up off the muddy ground. “This’ll work.”

***

He was waiting when Bucky showed up three days later, two cups of coffee in hand once more. He didn’t offer him one this time, just held his hand out, but Bucky took it anyway and sat down on the bench beside him. He waited, taking a slow sip of his own coffee, and watched out of the corner of his eye as Bucky took a sip of his own and then stilled, face neutral.

“Hey man, you said you liked sugar. I figured more is less. That’s the saying, right?”

Bucky turned to face him, and though it was one of the more terrifying experiences in his life, Sam met his gaze head on. “How much?” Bucky asked, voice low, and Sam wasn’t sure if the shivers it sent up his spine were fear or arousal.

“I don’t know,” he told him casually. “Like twelve packets?”

Bucky blinked at him exactly once and then, still making eye contact, he knocked back the entire cup in one go.

Sam sighed and shook his head. “So that’s how it is, huh?”

Bucky shrugged, and there was that hint of a smirk on his lips again. “Guess so.”

***

They carried on like this for a while, meeting in the same spot week after week. And gradually, Sam started to notice the shift in Bucky. That little, crooked, half-smile appeared more frequently, and for longer. He still wasn’t a talker, but he spoke more at least, responded to Sam’s incessant chattering. Admittedly, it was mostly affirmative grunts and one-word answers, but slow progress was still progress.

Or at least, that’s what Stark kept insisting. Sam had joined them for movie night, something of a habit of late, but with Bruce at a conference and Nat and Clint on a mission, it had turned into a debrief of the Bucky situation.

Which had then turned to Steve, well… Sam didn’t like to use the word whining, since it seemed unbecoming for Captain America, but that was pretty much exactly what he was doing, sulking in the corner of the couch with his arms folded across his chest.

Sam busied himself with a carton of Chinese food, and fought back a snicker when he caught Stark’s eye over top of the cardboard, and Tony gave a truly impressive eye roll.

“Steve. Steven. Stevarina. Come on, we’ve talked about this,” Tony told him, clearly doing his best to fight back his exasperation. “Your buddy’s spent more than two thirds of his life being brainwashed. He was never just gonna walk it off and waltz back in like nothing happened. It’s gonna be a long haul, and he’ll probably never be completely the guy you grew up with. We talked about all of this, remember?”

“Ad nauseum,” Steve grumbled, emphasizing his reluctance with a needlessly heavy sigh. Sam hastily turned his laugh into his cough, and then coughed harder when Tony winked at him, lips quirked in a grin of his own. Still, when Tony took a seat beside Steve and offered him a box of chow mein, Steve took it with a mumbled thanks.

“Look, I know it doesn’t feel like it, but this really is progress,” Tony insisted. “Remember, he’s pretty much on his own. He’s got no support system, no therapist. He’s just working through his trauma by blowing up Hydra bases -- allegedly -- and hanging out with… Sam.”

Sam eyed him and swallowed down a mouthful of noodles. “I feel like I should be offended by that, but usually people just treat me like I am their therapist, so thanks for that.”

Tony saluted him with his own carton. “Progress,” he insisted.

“It’s true,” Sam agreed, rubbing at the bruise on his thigh that was leftover from his last exchange with Bucky. “I made a dumbass joke and he made a noise that I think was maybe almost a laugh. Of course then he punched my thigh in retaliation, and I’ve been bruised for the past few days, but I’m pretty sure he could have shattered my femur without even thinking about it, so if he’s thinking about it, I’m calling it a win.”

He carefully didn’t tell them how he kept rubbing at that bruise because he kinda liked that edge of pain -- and something about the reminder of how goddamn strong and controlled that asshole was was really doing it for him.

Steve sighed, but he looked a little mollified. “I guess,” he grumbled, although he cracked a smile when Tony tossed a fortune cookie at his head.

“Look,” Tony told him. “We all know Captain Patience you are not, but we’re getting there babe, I promise.”

Sam arched an eyebrow at him. “Babe?”

Tony shrugged. “I call everyone babe. You haven’t noticed?” he asked, like Steve wasn’t blushing up a storm and frantically trying to hide his smile with a faceful of cookie. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

***

“So.” Sam reached into his jacket pocket and shuffled through the cards he pulled out. “Have you ever been escorted out by security?”

Bucky turned to look at him with a blank stare.

“Right, fair point. You’d probably just kill security.” He shuffled through again. “If you could take a selfie anywhere in the world, which location would you choose.”

When he glanced over, Bucky was still staring at him, a slight furrow in his brow that Sam definitely wasn’t privately thinking of as adorable. There was a slight moment of silence as Bucky blinked at him and then,

“Kazakhstan.”

“Yeah?” Sam waited, but apparently there was no additional information coming and after a minute Bucky just turned to look back out over the park. “That’s it, man? No further explanation needed?”

There was a slight shrug from Bucky. “I like the architecture in Astana.”

Sam sighed. “Of course you do.”

He shuffled a few more cards, wrinkling his nose at a couple of them. “Oh! If you had to perform at a karaoke bar, which song would you choose?”

“Okay,” Bucky finally said. “What the fuck are you even reading?”

It was probably the most words that Bucky had said to him all in one go, and Sam did a little internal victory dance before he flashed the back of the cards at Bucky. “Tabletopics,” he said. “Questions to start great conversations. I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, Barnes, but you’re kinda terrible at starting conversations, man.”

Bucky actually almost fully smiled at that, lips twitching, before he twisted his face up like he was in physical pain. “You’re an idiot,” he told Sam, voice gruff.

Sam shrugged it off, flicking through some more cards since these ‘conversations’ weren’t really going anywhere. There was a mostly comfortable silence and then Bucky spoke again, voice grudging.

“Call Me Maybe.”

Sam laughed so hard he accidentally scared off a couple pigeons and this time that was definitely the hint of a smile on Bucky’s lips.

***

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a complete idiot?”

Sam turned and grinned wide at Bucky’s dry voice, popping a french fry in his mouth as obnoxiously as possible. He’d had the worst hankering for fries ever since his run with Steve that morning, so he’d grabbed an order along with their regular coffee order. He hadn’t offered any to Bucky, and judging by the way he kept side-eyeing the bag, Bucky was a little put out about that.

“Come on now, handsome,” Sam teased, unable to resist goading him further. “Don’t be like that.”

He gave Bucky a wink and reached into the bag for another fry only to have Bucky’s hand shoot out faster than he could see and close around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. Sam swallowed hard, eyes locked on the metal hand wrapped around his skin. It didn’t hurt, but he couldn’t budge his hand at all, and to be entirely honest, it was making him squirm a little. If you’d asked Sam yesterday if being held immobile was one of his turn ons he would have said no, but apparently yesterday Sam was a moron. His breath caught in his throat and it was another minute before he pulled his gaze away to find Bucky smirking at him. Bucky gave his wrist a tight squeeze before using his free hand to pluck the fry out of Sam’s fingers, popping it in his mouth.

“Thanks,” he told him.

Sam rolled his eyes. “There’s that Barnes charm I’ve heard so much about, huh?” he asked, rubbing absently at his wrist. Bucky gave him a nonchalant shrug and Sam couldn’t help grinning grudgingly back. There was still a smirk on Bucky’s lips, but underneath that he looked genuinely pleased and Sam felt something warm settle at the base of his spine in response. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he told him, making a show of looking Bucky up and down, letting his eyes linger over his chest and arms. Bucky rolled his eyes, but Sam could swear he preened a little too, chest puffing out at the attention.

“Takes one to know one,” Bucky huffed after a moment, eyes carefully focused on the ground in front of the bench. There was a flush crawling up the side of his neck and Sam huffed out a soft laugh before crumpling up the fry bag, tossing it into the trash, and getting to his feet. Immediately Bucky’s head snapped back up. “Where are you going?” he asked, the gruff tone of his voice not quite hiding how disconcerted he was.

Sam shot him a wide grin. “Well, I’m still starving, so I’m gonna go find some more food. You coming?” He didn’t wait for an answer before heading off down the path and it was a minute before he heard Bucky fall into step just slightly behind him. Bucky had snuck up on him any number of times -- making Sam jump was a favourite pastime that he and Steve apparently had in common -- so the fact that he was making his presence so obviously known said something.

There was a little bistro-cafe place a little further into the park, criminally overpriced because tourism, but they had outdoor seating so that’s where Sam headed. They were in that weird in-between section of the afternoon, so while it was a little more crowded than their usual section of the park, the sign at the entry invited them to seat themselves. It only took Sam a second to scout out a table with its back to the cafe proper and a wide-open view of everything around them, and he made a beeline for it, purposely taking the seat with his back to everyone so Bucky could keep an eye out.

“This good?” he asked as Bucky slumped clumsily into the chair across from him. Bucky only grunted in response, but there was a little grin around his lips, so he knew exactly what Sam was doing.

Bucky, the absolute shithead, completely turned on the charm for their server in a way that left Sam a little thrown. He was smiling and making eye contact, and talking to her in that low, gruff voice that somehow came out more seduction than murderbot, and left Sam feeling a little squirmy. The second she’d left again, Sam kicked him under the table, wincing when Bucky kicked him right back, a little bit harder.

“What the fuck, man?” he demanded. “How come you never talk to me like that?”

Bucky shrugged, a grin on his face. “Maybe I just don’t like you that much.”

“I’m your goddamn date, asshole.”

“Are we?” Bucky asked, arching an eyebrow. He cleared his throat. “On a date?”

“I mean, we’re in a restaurant, getting a meal together. Where did you think all that time on the bench was going?”

“Oh.”

Bucky was smiling down at the table again, looking shy and definitely not adorable, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. Oh. So the least you can do is flirt with me a little.”

Bucky looked directly at him then, tongue tracing over his lower lip in a way that probably should have been ridiculous but still made Sam feel a little hot under the collar. Then he huffed out a laugh. “Maybe she deserves it more. She’s bringing me food, after all.”

Sam just huffed at him. “See if I pay for your meal now.”

Sam had been so caught off guard with Bucky’s flirting that he hadn’t even noticed what Bucky had ordered. So when the $18 artisanal toast (it was literally just toast and jam) and the deconstructed coffee showed up, he couldn’t do anything more than stare for a full minute.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not paying for your food now. You’re such a dick.”

Bucky just smiled sweetly at him and shoved his mouth full of toast.

***

Sam yawned, tilting his head back toward the ceiling as he listened to Steve and Tony bicker over Chinese or Thai for dinner (his choice had been pizza, but he’d been outvoted).

“Guys,” he shouted at the sky. “Just pick something. I’m starving.”

“Agreed,” Natasha piped up, dropping onto the couch cushion beside him out of nowhere, and making him yelp.

“Jesus,” he grumbled. “Is sneaking up on people part of your Russian training or something?”

Natasha just winked at him before glancing over at Steve and Tony again. “Seriously guys. You don’t decide soon and we’re starting movie night without you.”

“Blasphemy,” Tony retorted, pausing long enough to point at her accusingly before turning back to Steve and waxing poetic about pad thai. Sam was pretty sure he’d started out rooting for Chinese.

Natasha grinned and looked back over at Sam. “So speaking of Russian training…”

Sam groaned. “Don’t you start. I’ve already got Steve bugging me for hourly updates.”

She shrugged. “Just wondering how things are going,” she said sweetly before waggling her eyebrows. “You bang him yet?”

Sam didn’t quite choke on his own spit, but it was a near thing. “You’re shameless,” he told her. “And no. I only just got him to leave the damn bench.”

“Kinky.”

“I mean that literally,” he told her dryly. “We, uh… I bought him lunch.”

Her grin grew even wider. “Of course you did. Such a gentleman.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, saved from having to defend himself further when his phone buzzed in his lap. Natasha gave him a pointed look.

“Speak of the devil.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he opened the messaging app on his phone. “Hardly,” he protested. “We’re not on text level, believe me. He just kinda… shows up. I don’t know if Barnes even has a cell phone…” He trailed off, frowning down at the series of numbers on his screen. “Are these… Coordinates?”

With apparently no sense of personal space or privacy, Natasha leaned right over his shoulder to peer down at his phone. Sam didn’t bother protesting; she had probably already read his entire chat history in her spare time anyway. “Yup,” she agreed, pointing at the eight digit number that followed. “Date and time too. Sounds like you’ve got a date, hot stuff.”

“What? Come on, it’s just a random string of numbers. That doesn’t mean it’s Bucky,” he argued, although it did kind of sound exactly like him. Nat was smirking at him and he purposely shifted so she couldn’t read over his shoulder as he typed his response.

Barnes? That you?

It was only a second for his phone to buzz with a response. Yeah, asshole. Obviously. Who else would be texting you with date info?

It was completely at odds with the cloak and dagger vibe of the first message, and that made Sam’s lips twitch up into a smile. Not very romantic. You’re terrible at asking me out man, you know that?

Who says I’m asking you out? I’m telling you where our next date is gonna be.

Sam snorted at his phone. Oh, that’s how it is? I don’t know, I feel like I’m owed flowers at the very least. Champagne… Chocolate covered strawberries.

I’m allergic to strawberries.

You’re a supersoldier, dumbass. You’re not allergic to anything.

Whoops. Caught me.

He was about to type in another response when somebody elbowed him hard in the side, making him jump. He looked up with a start to find Natasha smirking at him again and Steve and Tony apparently done with their argument as they watched him curiously.

“We’ve decided on sushi,” she told him, saccharine sweet. “If you’d like to place your order.”

“Who were you texting, Sam?” Steve asked.

“My realtor,” he grumbled.

***

Sam stepped into the restaurant -- crowded enough to go unnoticed but with plenty of open spaces to keep an eye on everyone -- and blinked when he spotted Bucky waiting for him at a table in the corner. He headed over and slid into the seat. “Hey man. You’re usually more of a fashionably late kinda guy. Didn’t think you’d be here already.” Then he blinked again when he spotted the bouquet of daisies on the table. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “You bought me flowers?”

“Told you, I’m allergic to strawberries,” Bucky told him. He was going for all nonchalant, but Sam could see that familiar flush on his neck again.

“Thanks man,” Sam said. “Daisies are my favourite.”

“Yeah, you seemed like a daisy guy.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Of course you don’t.”

It was a minute later that their server brought over the bottle of champagne, and Sam couldn’t stop grinning.

Bucky was his usual charming self (he cracked two jokes, both of which were solely for the benefit of their server, and then kicked Sam in the shin under the table) but when the cheque came he grabbed it before Sam had the chance, pulling out a wad of cash from one of his pockets to pay for it. Sam arched an eyebrow at him.

“And you got that money…?”

Bucky’s lip curled into a smirk that was may more attractive than it had any right to be. “Oh, yeah.”

“Uh huh.” Sam eyed him a minute. “So listen, I don’t know what kind of weird, robocob stuff you usually do to fill up your afternoons…”

“Hunting down and systematically murdering modern-day Nazis,” Bucky supplied without skipping a beat.

“See, I can’t tell if you’re joking, and I kinda feel like you’re not, and that concerns me. But anyway, if you can take a break from your serial killer stint, do you wanna… Do something? I don’t know, do you even like doing things?”

Bucky gave him a flat stare. “I like ice cream,” he offered.

Sam still wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious or still messing with him, but he shrugged anyway. “Let’s go get some ice cream then, hot stuff.”

It was a sunny day, warm enough that Bucky actually stripped out of his jacket, leaving him in a long-sleeved t-shirt that was clinging to every muscle he had. They ended up walking along the river, and Sam couldn’t help eyeing him as they went, especially ogling his biceps every time he lifted his arm to take a lick of his ice cream. It was at least the fifth time when Bucky ‘caught’ him, looking right back at Sam with a pleased smile flirting around his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sam told him loftily. “You know you’re hot.”

“Yeah, well…” Bucky took a big lick of his ice cream that Sam was pretty sure was intended to make him shiver (it worked). “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam stopped dead in the path, making Bucky roll his eyes. “What was that? Are you admitting that I’m hot? You are totally into me, man. You want alllll of this.” He gestured vaguely at his own chest. “You think I’m sexy, you want to kiss me…”

Bucky squinted at him. “Is that Miss Congeniality?”

Sam squinted right back. “You know Miss Congeniality? Weren’t you frozen for that?”

Bucky shrugged. “It was on cable last week.”

Sam just sighed, shaking his head skyward. “Of course it was.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh but a beat later his entire demeanour had changed, going almost eerily still. Sam blinked at him, a little unsettled by the abrupt change.

“What?” he asked, looking over at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Uhh.” Bucky visibly shook himself, but his gaze was caught on something in the distance. Sam followed where he was looking and then felt his heart sink when he spotted Steve further down the path, talking to some kids who had apparently recognized him.

“Oh,” Sam said. “Shit.”

Bucky did look over at him then, face twisted in pain. “Help,” he croaked out, voice helpless.

Without thinking, Sam grabbed his upper arm, turning him down toward a side path. It occurred to him a beat later that yanking on the Winter Soldier without a heads up could turn out very badly, but Bucky didn’t seem upset, just turned and fell into step with Sam. They were out of sight a second later, but Sam could still feel how tense Bucky was so he kept walking. He didn’t stop until they were well away from where Steve had been and until Bucky started to breathe a little easier. He spotted a coffee shop that didn’t look too crowded and nudged Bucky inside, letting him pick out a table while he grabbed them a couple coffees, well-versed in Bucky’s order by now.

“Hey.” He dropped into the seat opposite Bucky and slid the mug across the table toward him. “You okay?”

Bucky met his gaze with a rueful expression and then shrugged. “Sorry about the ice cream,” he muttered, voice low. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Right, because ice cream is what I care about here.”

Bucky didn’t answer, looking down at the table instead, and Sam drew in a deep breath.

“Listen, for what it’s worth, I think you would have been okay. You’re doing better, Bucky. You could just try… Talking to him. I mean, hey, you haven’t killed me yet, right?”

Bucky looked back up and tried to force a smile, but his expression was pained. “I… I don’t…” He trailed off, looking frustrated and Sam held his hands up, trying to put him at ease.

“Hey, it’s okay. If you’re not ready, that’s okay too. You can take as long as you need, man.”

That didn’t seem to make Bucky feel any better. He chewed at the inside of his cheek as he stared somewhere over Sam’s shoulder and then got abruptly to his feet. “I gotta go,” he announced abruptly, glancing down at his untouched cup of coffee. “Thanks.”

***

Sam couldn’t help feeling like he’d fucked up, and that feeling got worse when Bucky was a no-show for their next park date. He’d tried texting too, worried that this was it, Bucky’d gotten spooked and taken off, but there was no answer there either. When almost an entire week went by without any contact, he knew he was going to have to tell the team.

He was in his room, trying to work out how on earth he was going to break the news to Steve, when his phone dinged with an alert. Pulling it out, he felt his eyes went wide. News about Bucky temporarily sidelined, he jogged down to the common area where Tony and Steve were already watching the news about a massive factory explosion somewhere in Austria.

“Holy shit,” Sam breathed. “Should we… Do we…”

“Out of jurisdiction,” Steve told him, sounding less concerned than Sam might have expected.

“Okay…” He narrowed his eyes at him. “What am I missing here?”

“Weirdest thing,” Steve said dryly, eyes still fixed on the screen. “There were no workers on site. They got an official call that there was a chip shortage, and it’s not like they’re going to pay the workers for not working, so they shut down for the day.”

Sam frowned. “Why is that weird?”

“There was no chip shortage,” Tony said. “Higher up who called it in had no idea what was going on when they looked into it.”

Steve glanced over at him. “Tell him the rest.”

Tony gave Sam a pointed look. “This factory? Also on the shortlist of highly likely Hydra covers that JARVIS pulled. Nat was supposed to head out next week for recon and confirmation before we called the team in.”

Sam turned his gaze back to the television. “So someone got all the innocent people out and then destroyed a Hydra base?” He felt his chest do a weird flutter. “Huh.”

And then, right on cue, his phone buzzed in his hand. He wasn’t even surprised when he pulled it open to find another set of coordinates, a date, and a time. A minute later it buzzed again, this time with an actual message.

Sorry for going MIA, btw. Had something to take care of.

Something that starts in H and ends in Nazis? Sam texted back. Honestly I don’t know if I’m more upset about the fact that you took off and did this without any backup, or about the fact that you just used btw. You’re an old man, how do you know text slang? We can’t even get Steve to use actual emojis, just the :)

He regretted it almost as soon as he hit send, worried that talk of Steve would throw Bucky off again. But the little indicator showed Bucky texting back almost immediately.

Steve’s trolling you. Dumbass.

And well, that certainly felt like progress.

***

When Sam looked up the restaurant at the coordinates Bucky had sent him (why he couldn’t give him a name or even an address he wasn’t sure, but he was 99% sure it was just Bucky fucking with him) it looked a little fancier than their usual place. Not Stark Gala fancy, but still. He’d thought about texting Bucky to confirm just how dressy he should be, but didn’t want to stress him out. Instead he opted for dressier pants instead of jeans, and a button down -- though he skipped the tie and wore a leather jacket that he knew made his shoulders look amazing, thank you very much.

It turned out to be the right choice. Sam actually stumbled a little on his way to the table when he caught sight of Bucky in a blue sweater that made his eyes pop and looked like it was cashmere, the tight fit leaving his biceps looking like he could hold Sam up for hours. (Which he obviously could do, but he didn’t have to go around showing off about it.) If the little twitch on his lips was any indication, he’d caught Sam’s slip, but Sam didn’t let on, just sat in the chair opposite him with a broad grin on his face.

“Nice sweater, Bucky,” he told him. “Who’d you steal it from?”

Bucky just shrugged, unrepentant. “Some asshole on Wall Street,” he answered lazily. Sam genuinely couldn’t tell if he was joking, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t.

Bread was dropped off at their table and Bucky immediately grabbed the basket before Sam had a chance, dragging it over to his side of the table and picking out the biggest piece. He smirked when Sam rolled his eyes, but a minute later he was sliding it back into his reach.

“Classy,” Sam told him, but he couldn’t help the fond grin when he said it.

Dinner was quiet, and delicious, and over too fast. Since neither of them were really ready to say goodnight, they went for a walk. Apparently, this was their new habit. Sam kind of liked the idea of them having habits together.

They skipped the ice cream this time, but it was a pleasant walk all the same, the two of them falling into that same comfortable silence -- right up until it was broken by a violent yawn by Sam.

Bucky actually snorted before he arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?”

“Sorry man.” Sam offered him a slightly sheepish smile. “I need a vacation. We should run away, go to the beach or something.”

He mostly just talking to talk, but Bucky made a scoffing noise. “You think your baby-sitters will clear that?”

“Uh…” Sam squinted at him a minute and then shook his head. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to give me more than that. I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bucky’s expression was dry. “You’re telling me Steve and Stark don’t know exactly where we are right now?”

Sam stopped dead and eyed him a minute before folding his arms across his chest. “Nah,” he drawled. “Not unless they’re tracking my every move, in which case we’re gonna be having some serious words.” He waited for Bucky’s expression to change, somewhere between startled and confused, before leaning forward again. “Your privacy is important to me. They knew about the park bench meetups, you know, just in case. I haven’t told them about any of our other dates since then, except that we’ve had them. And sometimes not even that.”

“Oh.” Bucky nodded down at the ground. “Okay then.” He didn’t say anything further, and Sam grinned at him before bumping his shoulder against Bucky’s and starting to walk again. A second later something bumped against his hand, and when he looked up Bucky gave him a soft, almost shy smile before he curled his hand over Sam’s, twining their fingers together.

***

They carried on like that through the summer. Every few days Sam would get coordinates from Bucky, or sometimes he’d set the date first -- with actual words, like a normal fucking human. And he could practically see Bucky getting better every time they met up. The constant tension that he seemed to carry between his shoulders gradually eased, he smiled and even laughed more, and the pain in his eyes was less, replaced by a spark that Sam could never seem to look away from. Best of all, he seemed to want to get better. He stopped giving Sam side looks like he couldn’t understand why he was spending time with him, and when he’d asked Sam for help finding a supersoldier-approved therapist, Sam had to resist the urge to dance right there, he was so proud (judging by the eye roll and smile that Bucky fought back, he did a terrible job hiding it, but that was neither here nor there).

And goddamn, once he started feeling human again, Bucky was gorgeous. Obviously he’d always been attractive, Sam wasn’t blind. But just that little bit of confidence he’d regained was doing things to him. He didn’t know if it was the way Bucky carried himself now, drawing attention to those thighs, or that smirk that he was always throwing Sam’s way, or C, all of the above, but his thoughts about Bucky had taken a turn toward the filthy.

And he was pretty sure he wasn’t alone in that. Sam hadn’t wanted to push, though he’d made no attempt to hide it every time he ogled Bucky. Bucky took his hand almost every time they went for a walk, and sometimes even while they ate. Sam had thought it was sweet at first, it was sweet at first. But then Bucky had started playing with his hands and fingers while they walked, stroking his thumb over Sam’s palm. Sam was hardly a prude, but the way he did it was nothing short of obscene, sending shivers up Sam’s spine. Then, a couple weeks ago, Bucky had started playing fucking footsie with him under the table, working the toes of his of feet up under the leg of Sam’s pants to stroke over his calf. And after their last date, he’d patted Sam on the thigh as they were leaving the table, and his hand had ended up too high to be anything less than an invitation.

So when it was his turn to pick the date again, he’d switched it up. Instead of a dinner, or another walk, he’d brought Bucky to a dance hall instead. And while he still hadn’t convinced Bucky to actually get up on the dance floor, he wouldn’t say it wasn’t a success. They were tucked up in a table in the corner, Bucky watching the dancers with that befuddled look that Sam was a little in love with, the two of them tucked up so close that Bucky’s thigh was pressed all along his, thick and warm, and he could practically feel Bucky’s voice rumbling through him every time he leaned in to speak.

“What?” Sam asked, elbowing him in the side. “You don’t like dancing?”

Bucky looked startled for a moment before he grinned at Sam. “I love dancing,” he told him, turning his gaze back to the dance floor, that little furrow appearing between his eyebrows again. “I just don’t remember it being quite like this.” He tilted his head, watching a couple grind up against each other a few feet away, and Sam laughed.

“Tell you what, I’ll go see if the DJ has any big band in his album. Get us a couple more drinks while I’m at it, see if that can’t give you the courage to get up there.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow at him. “You know I can’t get drunk, right?”

Sam just shrugged and winked, still grinning, and when he got up to slide past Bucky, that vibranium hand came up against his back, steadying, before sliding purposefully lower, palming Sam’s ass and then giving him a squeeze that made heat furl in Sam’s stomach. It was too obvious to be anything other than deliberate, but Sam looked over his shoulder anyway. Bucky wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it, watching him with a heated gaze that had Sam adjusting himself as he walked away.

Apparently Bucky had already made up his mind, because when Sam came back with the two bottles, Bucky knocked his back in one go before getting to his feet and immediately pulling Sam up after him. “Okay, come on. Let’s go.”

“Hey, I only had one swallow,” Sam protested, because Bucky would expect nothing less. “Don’t you know anything about clubbing? Can’t leave your drinks unattended, Buck. They might get drugged.”

Bucky just rolled his eyes at him and curled his hand around Sam’s wrist, fingertips like spots of fire on his skin as he dragged him out onto the dance floor. Sam had been expecting to have to lead, but as soon as Bucky had claimed their spot, his hands were curling over Sam’s hips, dragging him in close and then moving with him in perfect rhythm.

“Christ.” Sam couldn’t help the way he choked as Bucky’s thigh pressed between his. “When’d you learn to do that?”

Bucky shrugged, that damn smirk back on his lips. “Told you, I love dancing.”

“Yeah?” Sam eyed him, but Bucky seemed genuine, and while his sudden dancing ability had taken Sam by surprise, it wasn’t like he could let him win. He let his palms press against Bucky’s back, sliding down the length of his spine, and when there was no hesitation he let his palms shift lower, gripping Bucky’s ass and pulling him in closer until there was no space at all between them.

He had to give Bucky credit; the man had amazing rhythm. He kept up with every motion that Sam made, the two of them rocking together. He was hyper aware of Bucky’s body, the hot press of his chest against Sam’s through his thin t-shirt, the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with something that was just Bucky. They shifted slightly and then his thigh was grinding right up against Bucky’s cock, thick in his pants. Bucky bit back a moan, his hands squeezing over Sam’s waist as his head shifted forward, breathing thick and raspy in Sam’s ear.

“Christ, Buck,” Sam muttered, grinding up against him harder as the beat of the music changed.

Bucky lifted his head again to meet Sam’s gaze. His face was flushed but he was grinning and Sam really wanted to kiss him. His tongue flicked out against his lower lip, unconscious, and immediately Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on the motion. Sam hesitated just a second, but then Bucky twisted his hips in a way that had Sam’s vision going white and Bucky pressing his forehead against Sam’s neck and the moment to kiss him was gone.

They made it through three more songs before Sam had to admit defeat and request a breather. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, breath coming fast, and his cock was a half hard distraction every time he moved. He squeezed his hands against Bucky’s waist and then leaned in close; he knew Bucky would be able to hear him over the music regardless, but couldn’t resist the temptation of how good the man smelled.

“Hey, come on,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the music. “I need some fresh air.”

Bucky grinned like he’d won, but he refrained from commenting as he let Sam lead them off the dance floor and then down a hall, slipping out a side door and into the night air. It was warm out, but after the hot, heavy air of the club, it was still enough to be refreshing. Sam paused a moment outside the door, leaning back against the concrete wall and trying to calm his racing heart. He let his eyes fall shut for a moment, distantly aware of Bucky beside him.

When he cracked his eyes back open, Bucky was standing just a step too close. Sam’s posture gave Bucky a height advantage, and he was looking down at Sam with heavy eyes. Sam swallowed hard, acutely aware of the way his heart rate ratcheted back up, and the fact that Bucky could probably tell.

“Shit,” he said, trying not to sound so out of breath. “Haven’t danced like that in awhile. You having a good time?”

Bucky nodded mutely, and he was grinning but his gaze dropped to Sam’s lips. Sam couldn’t seem to look away from that expression, and as he stared Bucky’s hand came out, curling over his hip in a mirror of their actions in the club. He tugged enough to slip long fingers under Sam’s t-shirt, thumb stroking over the cut of his hip and Sam cursed under his breath when his hips shifted unwittingly into the barely-there touch. That was enough for Bucky to meet his eyes again, his own wide open and wanting, and without thinking Sam pushed off the wall, curling an arm around Bucky’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

The reaction was instantaneous. Bucky shoved him up against the wall, hard enough that Sam grunted, and kissed him back rough and needy, teeth nicking over Sam’s lip and making his toes curl in his shoes. Bucky’s hands gripped his waist hard enough to bruise, keeping him pinned against the wall, and Sam felt him shudder when he scratched blunt nails over the back of Bucky’s neck.

As quickly as it had started, it was over, Bucky pulling back slightly before freezing completely, expression unreadable. Sam shifted them enough that he could take half a step back, not wanting Bucky to feel trapped, and held his hands up soothingly.

“Hey man, I’m sorry. Should haven’t done that without asking. You okay?”

“We need to get off the street. Now,” was all Bucky said, and Sam resisted the urge to wince -- or kick himself. That wasn’t exactly a resounding ‘yes.’

“Yeah, of course,” he said instead. “Whatever you need. Um…” He looked around, trying to think where they could go, but then Bucky had a tight grip on his wrist and was pulling him down the alley.

“Come on, I gotta place.”

He didn’t let go of Sam’s wrist as they hurried down the street at a pace just short of frantic. Sam was still a little confused, worried he’d pushed Bucky too far or too fast. But at least he hadn't taken off, was keeping Sam close, so that had to be a positive sign. It was less than a block before Bucky’s hand slipped down to curl over Sam’s instead, fingers tangling, but he still didn't speak and it was a long few minutes before he pulled Sam into a building and up the stairs.

Sam blinked as they walked into an apartment, sparsely decorated but in an oddly cozy kind of way. It definitely felt lived in, and Sam stilled as he took a second look at everything. “Wait, is this your place?”

It was all he got out before Bucky’s hold on his hand tightened, pulling him in. “God,” he muttered, pushing Sam against the wall and kissing at his neck. His right hand was still pinning Sam’s wrist, but the other was running up and down over Sam’s side, pulling at his t-shirt until he could ruck his hand up underneath, dragging cold metal fingertips over his skin to leave Sam gasping and twitching.

“You, um…” Sam swallowed, doing his best to ignore the way his cock was firming up fast in his jeans. “You okay, man? We booked it out of there fast.”

But Bucky just huffed out a laugh. He scraped his teeth over Sam’s shoulder before lifting his head to meet Sam’s eyes, his own looking dazed. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted,” he breathed, rutting against Sam’s hip like he fully intended to come that way. Sam wasn’t exactly opposed, but his knees were feeling a little weak and collapsing wasn’t on the list of things he wanted to do tonight.

“Hey, I got you,” he told Bucky, stroking his fingers over the back of his neck and then having to swallow hard at the way Bucky shivered and clutched at him in response, burying his face against Sam’s neck and sucking a bruise into his collarbone. “You got a bed around here?”

Bucky whined into his neck, loathe to let him move, and seeing him all soft and open like this was doing things to Sam. He laughed though, flexing the wrist that was still pinned in Bucky’s grasp.

“Come on, man. My arm’s falling asleep.”

“Yeah.” Bucky finally lifted his head, gave Sam a wide grin. “Yeah, come on.”

Bucky’s ‘bed’ was little more than a mattress on the floor, but Sam didn’t comment, just sank down to sit on the edge, leaving Bucky staring down at him with a hungry expression.

“Look at you,” Sam hummed, shifting forward to run his hands up the outside of Bucky’s legs. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he told him bluntly, leaning in further still to mouth at his cock through the jeans he was still wearing. Bucky choked, body curling forward around Sam as his hands scratched over his head.

“That’s… Fuck,” he mumbled, hips rocking minutely. “Sam.”

His voice was rough and hoarse, pitched low, and Sam shivered a little. He’d never heard his name spoken in quite that tone, and it was really working for him. “Yeah?” he asked, reaching down to squeeze himself quickly through his pants. “What do you want, baby?”

“I… I’m…” Bucky scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking completely overwhelmed, and Sam huffed out a quiet laugh.

“C’mere,” he hummed, curling his hands around Bucky’s hips and yanking. Bucky made a frankly hilarious sound as he tumbled to the mattress, catching himself on his elbows before he squashed Sam completely. Sam laughed at him, reaching up to rub at the back of Bucky’s neck. “There you are,” he purred, spreading his legs a little wider to let Bucky settle more comfortably between his hips.

“Such an asshole,” Bucky grumbled, but he melted at Sam’s touch. His face pressed into Sam’s neck, kissing and biting at his skin until he teased a groan out of him. Bucky ground his hips down at the sound, panting at the sensation. “Shit, Sam,” he muttered. “I just… I want you so bad.”

“Yeah?” Sam wanted to make fun of him, but his own heart was racing. “Me too,” he said, tugging at the hem of Bucky’s shirt. “Come on, man,” he grumbled, tugging and pulling to yank it up over his back. “At least let me see you naked first.”

Bucky huffed, like it was the most demanding thing anyone had ever requested of him, but he pulled back far enough that Sam could haul the fabric over his head. He took a minute to just admire once it was gone, letting his hand trace down between Bucky’s pecs.

“Christ, look at you,” he breathed before flicking his eyes up to meet Bucky’s. “The serum really did a number on you, huh?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but there was a pleased glimmer to his eyes. “Are you implying that I wouldn’t look like this on my own?” He didn’t wait for Sam to answer, instead gripping Sam’s own t-shirt in his fists in tearing it in two with apparently no effort at all.

It took a couple tries for Sam to swallow around his suddenly dry throat. “Jesus,” he muttered, doing his best to pretend that wasn’t turning every crank he had. “Thought we talked about the toxic masculinity thing.”

Bucky rolled his eyes again, smirking down at Sam. “You like it,” he drawled, leaning forward to kiss Sam, heavy and hard, pulling at Sam’s lip with his teeth. Sam groaned into his mouth, sliding his hands down to grip at Bucky’s ass. He squeezed and Bucky made a low, wanting sound, nipping harder at Sam’s lip. Sam squirmed around enough to get a leg between Bucky’s, grinning at the gasping sound he made at the shift in pressure, and pulled away to nip at his earlobe instead.

“Come on baby,” he purred into Bucky’s ear, only half hamming it up. “Let me blow you?”

A punched out sound slipped past Bucky’s lips and he ground down hard against Sam’s thigh before lifting his head enough to nod at him, looking a little dazed. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Yeah, fuck. Please.”

Sam grinned back at him. “Look at you,” he teased. “So polite.” Bucky looked like he was going to protest, but Sam gave him a push instead. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that that would actually be enough to shift Bucky, but he went anyway, flipping over onto his back and looking up at Sam with wanting eyes. “Fuck,” Sam muttered, sprawling on top of him and wrestling with the fly of his jeans. “You’re killing me here, asshole.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, the sound turning into a sharp hiss through his teeth when Sam’s mouth closed around his nipple, tongue flicking at the sensitive skin. “Could -- shit, Sam -- could say the same.” His hands moved to Sam’s shoulders, dragging paths over his warm skin and Sam grinned as he kissed his way down his chest, shoving at Bucky’s pants as he went.

Bucky’s pants were tight enough that Sam couldn’t quite get them off and he pulled back with a reluctant sigh, sitting up enough to get his hands on them properly. Bucky whined softly under his breath and helpfully arched his hips, wiggling around as Sam tugged his pants down over his thighs. It took a second -- Bucky wasn’t as helpful as he thought he was -- but then his cock was finally springing free, hard and heavy and weeping at the tip.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed, hips arching up again at the rush of cool air on his skin. “Oh, shit.”

Sam echoed the sentiment, staring down at him and swallowing hard. “I could say the same,” he said, voice coming out low and rough. He swallowed again. “Christ, Bucky. Where’ve you been hiding that thing?”

Bucky groaned loudly in response, head rubbing over the pillow. “Sam,” he bit out, an edge of desperation to his voice that had heart flaring in Sam’s belly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam soothed him, lowering down again. “I got you, baby.” He curled his hand around Bucky’s length, staring a moment longer as Bucky twitched in his grip, and then closed his lips around the head, flicking his tongue against the tip of him.

“Ah -- fuck!” Bucky keened at the touch, his hips making an abortive jerk, like he wanted to thrust in but was holding himself back. The idea of Bucky losing control like that made Sam shiver and he hummed, swallowing him a little deeper. Bucky choked back a groan, his left hand moving up to stifle the sound and Sam grinned around him before pulling back with a purposely obscene pop.

“Come on, handsome,” he teased, winking up at Bucky. “Don’t go all strong and silent on me now. I wanna hear you.”

Bucky glowered at him -- he managed to look awfully annoyed for someone getting head -- but Sam didn’t let him respond. He squeezed his hand around the base of Bucky’s cock and closed his mouth around him again, swallowing him deeper this time until his lips were brushing against his own fingers. Bucky was more than a mouthful, but Sam still managed to flick his tongue as worked, his own cock twitching when Bucky’s thighs tensed and another loud moan slipped past his lips.

“Sam,” Bucky choked, his hips rocking up against him. His fingers twitched over the back of Sam’s head. “Sam, fuck. Your fucking mouth.”

Sam grinned around him again, preening a little at the praise, and flexed his hand, squeezing Bucky and swallowing him down further. He’d always loved giving head, and he lost himself in it a little, the rhythm and motion and weight of Bucky in his mouth. His own cock was thick and heavy, aching for touch, but he ignored it for now, focusing on the man before him. Bucky had taken his words to heart apparently, cursing and groaning and breathing Sam’s name like a lifeline, and it was sending little thrills of heat through Sam.

He didn’t even notice Bucky tensing further, the way his heels were digging into the mattress, until the tone of Bucky’s pleas suddenly changed.

“Shit, shit, Sam -- I’m…”

His hand squeezed hard against Sam’s shoulder, and the feeling went directly to his own cock. He couldn’t help the way he groaned around Bucky in response and a beat later Bucky was cursing as he came down Sam’s throat, back arching off the mattress.

Sam pulled back, coughing a little, and stared down at him. Bucky was splayed out, prone on the mattress, damp strands of hair stuck to his forehead and a sheen on his chest as he panted. He was grinning up at the ceiling, a dazed, pleased expression on his face, and it was one of the best sights Sam had ever seen.

“Jesus, Bucky,” he muttered, scrambling to get his jeans unfastened and shoved down. He groaned as he curled a hand around himself, rocking up into his own grip. “That was… Fuck.”

Bucky rolled his head enough to grin at Sam, and his eyes darkened again when he saw him jerking off. “No, no, come on,” he protested, pushing himself up on his elbows, knees bending to frame Sam’s hips. “I’m good, keep going.”

Sam leaned back on his own knees, slowing down the motion of his hand as he arched an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?” he teased. “Sure you don’t need a minute?”

Bucky huffed. “I look like I need a minute?” he asked. He slid his hand down his lower abdomen, pulling Sam’s attention, and Sam swallowed hard when he realized that Bucky was already -- still? -- hard.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice suddenly dry, and ignored Bucky’s knowing smirk in favour of leaning forward to press him into the mattress again. “Shit,” he muttered, curling a hand around the two of them. “God, that’s hot.”

Bucky snorted, the sound shifting into a groan when Sam’s calloused fingers dragged over him just right. “Yeah Sam, god. Just like that. Want you to fuck me, come on.”

Sam stilled at that, ignoring Bucky’s whine of protest. “Wait, what?”

Bucky rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, flinging his head back against the pillow in frustration. “I’m sorry, what part of that was unclear?” He gave Sam a look like he was stupid. “I. Want you. To fuck me.”

“Alright, smartass.” Sam did his best to glare at him, but it was hard when Bucky was sprawled beneath him, cock thick and hard between his legs and expression still a little dopey from his first orgasm. “Just trying to make sure you’re comfortable. Figured you’d wanna top, be in control. Especially the first time.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide before he laughed, loud and bright. Sam had gotten snorts and chuckles out of him before but never a laugh like this, and it made him feel warm inside in ways that had nothing to do with impending orgasms.

“Fine, sure,” Sam huffed, though he was grinning too. “Laugh at me. I see how it is.”

Buck just gave him a wolfish grin. “The fact that you think this is my first time is adorable.”

“I didn’t say your first time,” Sam grumbled. “I meant us. You and me, together.”

“You’re an idiot,” Bucky told him before reaching up and curling a hand around the back of Sam’s neck, yanking him down to sprawl out on top of him. He kissed Sam hard, rocking up against him and Sam made a punched out noise when their cocks lined up, grinding against each other. “Yeah,” Bucky groaned, grinning against Sam’s lips. “I’m good, I’m fine, I promise.” He pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “I want it.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, recalibrating, and then lost himself in the smooth expanse of skin beneath him. “God you’re distracting,” he muttered. “Okay. You got any lube?”

He could have sworn there was a hint of a blush on Bucky’s cheeks as he pulled an arm away from him, reaching overhead and rooting around beside the mattress for a moment. There was definitely a flush when the bottle he passed over to Sam was more than half empty, but he was smiling too, lower lip caught between his teeth. Sam shook the bottle slightly, waggling his eyebrows at him.

“You want me to do the honours, or do you want to take of things yourself.”

“You,” Bucky said, just a little too quickly. He cleared his throat as he caught himself. “Uh, if that’s good with you.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam drawled, giving him a quick kiss before he pulled back and snapped open the cap on the lube. “Such a hardship.”

Bucky huffed, looking like he was going to protest, but before he could Sam smacked his hip, catching the side of his ass for good measure. “Come on, hot stuff. Roll over.” He got some grumbling, like Bucky’s cock didn’t twitch at the command, but he shifted over until he was on all fours, the muscles of his back and shoulders standing out in sharp relief as he braced himself.

“I like it better face to face,” Bucky protested, not actually sounding that put out about it.

“And I like it better when I can see what I’m doing,” Sam retorted, offsetting the comment by stretching out over Bucky and pressing a soothing kiss to the back of his neck. “We’ll get there, baby,” he promised, noting the way Bucky shivered at the low tone of his voice.

Now that he had him here, Sam couldn’t resist teasing a little, kissing over his shoulders and spine, nipping at the taut muscle, running calloused fingers up his sides until Bucky’s arms were shaking with want. He didn’t protest, just rocked back into Sam and shivered and moaned when Sam told him how good he was.

“Christ, look at you,” Sam breathed, kissing down his spine. “Could stay here all day.”

Bucky whined through his teeth at that, and when he spoke his voice was rough and out of breath. “I’d really… rather you didn’t,” he huffed, words interspersed with soft little wanting noises, and Sam smiled into his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” he promised. He pulled back again, fully intending to make good on his promise and prep Bucky so he could finally get in him. But the man was a sight before him, still on all fours, head hanging low and ass up and on display just for Sam. Sam had always been an ass man and would happily admit to having checked out Bucky’s at every possible opportunity. But it hadn’t quite prepared him for just how delectable it would be, having Bucky all laid out for him like this. “Fuck,” he breathed out, all in a rush of air. He reached out, giving Bucky’s ass a squeeze and Bucky jolted in response.

“Sam,” he bit out through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam told him. “Just let me…”

It hadn’t been his original plan, but Sam was nothing if not adaptable. He shifted a little further back on the bed and then dove in, licking a long stripe up the cleft of Bucky’s ass, hands squeezing at his skin. Bucky jerked like he’d been electrocuted, a garbled noise slipping past his lips.

“This okay?” Sam asked, confident enough in the answer that he did it again before Bucky had a chance to respond.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” Bucky bit out, squirming beneath him and pressing back against his mouth. “Oh fuck, please.”

Sam grinned and traced his tongue over the rim of Bucky’s hole, feeling the way he shuddered beneath him. He pressed in closer and took his time suckling at the sensitive skin, adding the perfect drag of teeth every once in a while just to keep him guessing. Bucky was keening with every flick of his tongue, hips rocking frantically back against him, trying to push Sam closer. His arms collapsed, face pressed into the pillow, but Sam just squeezed his ass harder, working him open with his lips and tongue until he could press in even deeper.

When Bucky’s hole was loose and fluttery around his tongue Sam pulled back a little, blowing cool air across the skin. Bucky practically sobbed into the pillow in pleasure and Sam grinned, squirting too much lube onto his hand before he dove back in, this time slipping a finger inside too. Bucky sounded like he was dying in the best way, kept pleading for more, and Sam gave it to him, working two and then three fingers inside him, stretching him open and licking around them until Bucky was loose and sloppy and more than ready for him.

He pulled back then, laughing at Bucky’s whine of protest, and smacked his ass just to watch it bounce. “Hey, come on man. Roll over. You’re the one who wanted face to face.”

It seemed to take a second for the words to process, but then Bucky was shifting up onto all fours, movements clumsy and graceless, and flopping onto his back. He blinked up at Sam with a dazed expression, and Sam arched an eyebrow at him.

“You come again?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky told him lazily, voice low and face open and happy. “Maybe.”

Sam snorted. “You still want me to fuck you?”

“God yes,” Bucky said immediately, spreading his legs and canting his hips up.

“Fuck,” Sam muttered, quickly shifting into position. “God, look at you. C’mere.”

He didn’t waste anymore time before lining himself up and pressing in. Bucky was all tight, slick heat and Sam groaned as he slipped past his rim, the pressure around his aching cock almost too much. Bucky was moaning though, soft little pleases slipping out on every other breath, and Sam only paused a moment before pressing in further, not stopping until he was buried balls deep.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky gasped when he finally stopped, hands running aimlessly over Sam’s back. “Oh fuck just… Wait a second.”

Sam nodded sharply, ignoring the way his dick was throbbing, body telling him to move. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Bucky laughed. “Just don’t move. I’m gonna come if you move. Just… Need a sec.”

Sam squeezed his eyes tightly shut, balls throbbing. “Jesus, Buck,” he muttered, resting his forehead against Bucky’s chest. “You’re gonna kill me.”

It was another minute before Bucky finally gave him the go-ahead and Sam couldn’t hold back any longer. Feeling a little out of his mind with pleasure, he fucked into Bucky hard and fast, the noises Bucky made in response only ratcheting him up higher. Bucky was clutching at his hips, squirming around beneath him, and Sam got a grip on his legs, bending him in half until he was dragging over his prostate with every single thrust. Bucky shouted at the shift, metal hand reaching over his head to clutch at the mattress until he tore it. Sam was starting to see why he didn’t have a headboard.

“Oh shit,” Bucky panting, arching his hips a little higher, letting Sam slip a little deeper. “Right there, fuck. I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”

Sam nodded, dropping his head to kiss him, open-mouthed and panting and more sharing air than anything. “Yeah,” he gasped, feeling his own balls draw up tight as he struggled to hold on just a little longer. He wormed a hand between them. “Come on baby, come for me.” He managed to half curl his hand around Bucky’s cock, the angle awkward, and his grip not tight enough, but a beat later Bucky’s back was arching, body tensing as he spilled over Sam’s fingers.

He grew impossibly tighter and Sam let go of his dick, bracing his hands on the mattress instead and managing only two, three more thrusts before he was burying himself deep and coming with a low groan.

They stayed like that for a long minute, Sam splayed over top of Bucky, the room filled with the sound of their panting as they tried to get their breathing back under control. Then Bucky shoved unceremoniously at Sam’s side.

“Get off, man,” he grumbled, a grin in his voice. “You’re heavy.”

Sam sighed but shifted off of Bucky, sprawling out beside him instead. “The hell kind of thank you is that?”

Bucky just rolled his eyes, shifting onto his side to look at Sam, and then scrunched his face up. “God, I am like… Just covered in come,” he grumbled, making Sam snort.

“Charming,” he teased, and Bucky glowered at him, before leaning in and giving Sam a quick, soft kiss.

“Be right back,” he hummed, rolling easily to his feet and padding to the bathroom like he hadn’t just been fucked within an inch of his life. Sam wasn’t jealous. Really.

He dozed a little, listening to Bucky move around in the bathroom, then jolted awake when a cool cloth was dumped unceremoniously on his bare belly. “Thanks,” he grumbled, giving himself a cursory clean up (he’d avoided the worst of Bucky’s mess) as Bucky smirked at him.

Bucky tossed the cloth back in the bathroom when he was done, flopping back down on the mattress beside him. He looked sideways over at Sam, not quite meeting his eyes. “You, uh… You staying?” he asked, sounding just a little nervous, and Sam snorted.

“Well, I’d have to remember how my legs worked to be able to leave, so… Yeah. I’m sticking around. That okay?”

“Yeah.” Bucky did meet his eyes then, grinning. “Yeah, that’s great.” He leaned over to turn off the light and shifted around a little and then they were pressed close, Bucky’s head tucked against Sam’s chest. Sam curled his arm around Bucky’s back, pretending not to notice his soft, pleased sigh at the motion.

They lay in silence for a few easy minutes until Sam couldn’t stand it any longer and nudged his hip against Bucky’s side. “Man. You really came in like five seconds flat, huh?”

Bucky sighed like Sam was the biggest battle he’d ever had to overcome. “Fuck off. It’s been seventy goddamn years,” he told him, rolling his eyes at Sam’s laughter. “Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“No,” Sam agreed, grinning when Bucky’s hand came up to tangle with his. “No I was not.” He hummed for a minute. “Hey, you should know, I kept that bush you gave me.”

“The…” Bucky rolled to squint at him. “The what?”

“The bush. Way back when? You cornered me in an alley and threw a bush at me and then took off?”

“Oh.” Bucky looked embarrassed, but he laughed softly. “That.”

“Yeah, that. I kept it. Nat’s got a little vegetable garden on the roof. She let me have a patch of dirt and I replanted it. She’s thriving. I named her Rita.”

Bucky snorted, embarrassment fading. “Why?”

“Why did I name her Rita?” Sam shrugged and stifled a yawn. “I don’t know man, I guess I was doing some kind of 40s homage to you. It seemed to suit her anyway.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I meant why did you keep it?”

“Oh.” Sam grinned at him then, bumping his shoulder against Bucky’s. “Guess I kinda liked you.”

They fell into easy, comfortable silence. It was late enough that it was early again, the sky outside the bedroom lightening into the soft grey of pre-dawn, and Sam could feel himself drifting, lulled by the regular rhythm of Bucky’s breathing beside him. He was almost asleep when Bucky spoke again.

“Hey, Sam?”

There was something in his voice that made Sam shift to face him, finding Bucky’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light. “Yeah?”

Bucky drew in a deep breath, and his smile was nervous, but happy. “I think I’m ready to see Steve.”

*** One Week Later ***

Sam let the sounds of his teammates eating wash over him, glancing over at the clock at the stove and trying not to let his anticipation show. Saturday morning Avengers brunch wasn’t anything official, but nine times out of ten everyone would find their way into the common room after training and all-nighters and the dreaded weekend meeting, and it seemed as good a time as any for this. He and Bucky had gone over it over and over again, if it was best for him to see everyone at once, if he wouldn’t rather be on neutral territory, but Bucky had decided he was ready, and Sam was ready to support him in whatever he chose to do.

The clock on the stove flicked over to the hour and right on cue Sam heard the faint whoosh of the elevator door opening behind him and, because he was listening for it, faint footfalls crossing the room. From across the table, Sam saw Clint freeze and his eyes go wide, the forkful of waffle and syrup that he’d been about to shovel into his mouth falling to his lap instead. Clint cursed as he realized and then Sam’s chair was being pulled slightly back and he found himself with two hundred and sixty pounds of half-naked supersoldier sitting sideways in his lap.

“Morning, baby,” Bucky hummed, helping himself to some of Sam’s breakfast like this was an everyday occurrence.

From over his shoulder, Bucky could see Steve staring at them, looking like he was having a stroke, and Sam turned his face into Bucky’s neck before Steve could catch him laughing. He met Tony’s eyes in the process, the other man already over any shock and giving Sam a look that was somewhere between amused and impressed.

Bucky turned his attention on Steve then, and though he was still playing it up, his smile was a little softer, a little more earnest. “Morning Stevie.”

Sam pressed a soft kiss to Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed his hip reassuringly as Steve blinked at them several times in a row and finally opened his mouth.

“What the fuck??”

#fic #my fic #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #recovering bucky barnes #canon divergence #post-CATWS #happy ending #lemon

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milanosbitch · 4 years

Text

rec list for endhawks gems

as usual during this quarantine, i went through a challenging quest, searched through every single fic on ao3 about a single ship and made a rec list, ended up with around 25 works out of 630. nearly all of them should be free of explicit, problematic and triggering content besides one or two in the mature content sense. and i’ll note those down separately but i always suggest reading the tags before starting a fic regardless the rating, just so you know what you’re diving into. furthermore, there’s this author note at the end of a fic that i’ve found which pretty much sums up my feelings about a mess that’s called todoroki friggin’ enji:

“ I love Hawks and Endeavor together. They're a great dynamic, whether it's platonic or not. I'm a pretty open guy when it comes to shipping, and me and a certain lilviathan love going back and forth with dumb ideas about them.

And that's kind of where the contradictory feelings for the Flaming Garbage Man that is Endeavor kind of come from? Because I really do think he's a very interesting and well-developed character, but I also have a very strong urge to stab him at any given time.

I want to make his life miserable and hurt him, but I also want someone to sit him down and tell him that while he owes his family an apology, they do not owe him forgiveness. I want to see him grow. I want to see him face the repercussions of his actions and move forward. ”

—by Canarianyellow on archiveofourown.org

last notes; starred ones are my personal favorites, and i'm adding to this list as i go,, so look out for updates!! you can find a better formatted version of this list here on google docs.

that being said, here are the gems i found on a yet another holy quest:

Walk Alone by adastrad*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: You've lost your wings, you've lost your speed, and in the crowd ahead, you've lost him too. How do you know what name to call out when you don't even know what to call yourself?

as usual, kick-starting the list with one of the first fics i’ve read about them. we have some pretty good angst related to the latest manga chapters in our hands and a fascinating second person pov here. the ‘stream of consciousness’ style of wording kicks you right in the ribs, in a good way.

&&.

It's Cold, I Don't Want To Be Lonely

by onlyatitagain

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: When in the presence of Todoroki Enji, it was easy to feel warm and overwhelmed by heat in more ways than just physical. Hawks was very aware of the fire burning in his heart that roared to life whenever he was with his childhood hero, who was now his best friend. The relationship they had was special in the way of how close they had become, Hawks trusted the number one hero with his life and could always count on him no matter the circumstance.

What would happen if he said something and ruined that trust, the friendship they had built over months of knowing each other?

You should never play with fire, unless you want to get burned.

truly a beautiful hurt/comfort fic. enji’s characterization is gentle and might feel slightly OOC, but give it a chance. there is also some pretty cheesy couple stuff at the end and that might not be your cup of tea, just a heads up.

&&.

Fallen by copper_leaf**

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 7.3K

Summary: Hawks’ attempt to infiltrate the League goes wrong.

Enji is the one he turns to.

both its part one and part two, this series can take my soul. literally 7K of sheer hurt/comfort, and a caring enji. hawks’ eyeliner is probably ruined by now. can i say this is probably the best fic i’ve read about them softness-wise? i can.

&&.

Burning Embers by copper_leaf**

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 6K

Summary: Hawks wakes up, wingless, in Enji's arms.

the continuation of the fic above, here’s more content that will make you feel all mushy. a beautiful excerpt from it:

“It’s a flicker of light in the darkness, the last ember left in the heart that still has the power to bring all else to flame.”

&&.

The Bird Who Swallowed a Star*

by angyhawks (Soll)

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Endeavor remembers Hawks' small hands, how they didn't burn as he danced on his palms.

How Hawks had whispered sweet nothing into his flames, words not important as his lips moved and his voice chirped.

He remember Hawks finding him, small and spent, and gifting him a feather to feed on.

Endeavor wishes a feather had been his only offer.

//in which Endeavor is a fire demon, Hawks is once again tied to the ground, and wouldn't it be nice if they could kiss?

&&.

Light by Caahs*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: Since he was a boy, Hawks gathered an eternal distaste for darkness, which was preserved until his most recent days. However, the blazing figure of Endeavor always came up like his warm source of light, illuminating the most obscure paths and clarifying the most difficult decisions.

&&.

Emotions Are Hard, Love Even More So...

by aurora_whitlock

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Hawks and Endeavour at the end of a long week. Alone. Together. Its just some cute, fluffy bullshit basically. Warm your hurt little hearts.

&&.

Cuff me to the truth of failure

by Not_A_Valid_Opinion

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: The kid’s eyes are so wide, Hawks can see the entire silhouette of his wings in their reflection. “I want to be you.”

Shit.

“No, you don’t, kid,” he can’t help but promise, can’t stop the sadness in his eyes from flickering into view.

Hawks has dinner with Enji after a bad interview.

&&.

Look at what amounts from the jump

(and I'm never coming down) by

Not_A_Valid_Opinion

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3K

Summary: He stares at Endeavour with something close to regret, maybe closer to suspicion, but before Endeavour can catch the look it’s gone and replaced with a pursed lip and a glance at his phone. “I’ve gotta go. See you around, Enji.”

But the burly man stops him with his name. “Watch where you’re flying,” he says gruffly, though it’s different. It’s not an order. It’s not a request.

Whatever it is, Hawks takes it as a challenge.

Endeavour is worried about Hawks. Hawks doesn't know what to do with that information.

&&.

You mesmerise me in red and gold

by Arayne

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Enji has never gotten to tell Hawks what's on his mind so he tries, in several ways, to make it clear how he feels.

&&.

We've got a good thing going

by lehnsherry

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: Enji is watching Shouto, so he notices the way his eyes snap to the kitchen doorway just before he hears the soft footsteps and the rustling of wings, and his heart jumps into his throat. He turns in his seat just in time to see Hawks walk in, eyes still closed and a hand scratching at his messy hair.

“Mornin’, babe, do you know where my -” Hawks breaks into a huge yawn, and then opens his sleepy eyes, and freezes in the doorway like Shouto used his power on him.

Enji’s mouth makes an involuntary sound of embarrassment, and Hawks flushes all the way down to his chest.

&&.

As He Lived by uzumae*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: Hawks wants to imagine that he still has a place in a world he no longer belongs to.

&&.

future hearts by rire

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: When the rest of Hawks is putting on airs, it’s his wings that give him away.

&&.

Break off a piece of your heart by kettleowl

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 890

Summary: The High-End incident, but they are actors who are too emotionally invested in their roles.

&&.

to take a fall by rire

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: “What’s with that look, Endeavor-san?” Hawks smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I got what I wanted, didn’t I? Now I’ve got more free time than I know what to do with.”

&&.

A Thousand Flowers by adastrad*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 440

Summary: "Let's hope the next time the cherry blossoms fall, we will all be smiling."

&&.

#fantheflames by adastrad

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 54.9K

Summary: Todoroki Shoto accidentally, on purpose, and with great regret helps make Hawks/Endeavor happen.

this is wholesome. one hundred percent cheff kiss. peak comedy with a dose of stan twitter. actually a shouto-centric fic and more like an outsider pov of slight endhawks.

&&.

This Gentle Earth by adastrad**

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Hawks buys a better excuse to keep visiting Musutafu, but damn it. Enji hadn't been looking to adopt.

guaranteed to melt your insides. enji ends up being a plant parent.

&&.

The Winner Takes it All by adastrad

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 25.2K

Summary: Endeavor's eye is gone. He may say his injuries are his own responsibility, but it's Hawks' fault, isn't it? He will give Enji everything he can. His top secret mission will take the rest.

slaps the roof of the fic this baby right here is a shortcut for a brain burn. with a complicated storytelling and equally complex characterizations, which results in a slow but satisfying reading if you’re looking for a detailed story!! there’s seriously so much pining that it keeps you on your tiptoes until the end of it.

&&.

Roasting the Roaster

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: Hawks gossips with the receptionist at Endeavor Hero Agency about what a dork the boss is, discusses Endeavor lookalike porn, and then ropes Shouto into lunch with Endeavor, whereupon Shouto just roasts his dad the whole time.

Can you roast a man who's already on fire? Apparently, yes. Yes you can.

(includes the hit single Did You Need Some Ice For That Sick Burn by Hawks, ft. Shouto Todoroki)

[Only tangentially related to the other fics in this series.]

slight crack fic for humor but it’s truly well-written. a shouto and hawks team up over endeavor was something i never deeply gave attention to yet it is gold and i need more of it. hawks writes a bop, endeavor’s whole agency thirst over the said man and everything leaves you with tears in your eyes from cackling at these dorks.

&&.

the fics listed below the cut are rated mature or

explicit by the authors, and therefore contain sexual content:

Penumbra by Nicolefrickle

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Enji wants to touch Hawks' wings. Badly.

this one is rated mature but the theme is only minorly implied so i can say it is safe to read without worrying about the rating. more like a fluff fic with hawks being a happy birb.

&&.

An Imperfect Cage by Crandberrycrush

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 55.5K

Summary: Hawks is an orphan, brought up in a charity school and thrust into the world at eighteen to work as a governor for the Todoroki family, a family that has more secrets than he can hope to unravel.

*A gothic romance based heavily on the novel Jane Eyre*

&&.

Liquid Nitrogen by surveycorpsjean

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.8K

Summary: Enji can't figure out why the hell Hawks keeps sleeping in his office.

the plot? the writing? the characterization? everything is perfect. i’m normally uncomfortable with this much amount of smut and debated if i should put this on the list or not, since it might consist of triggering content for some. please read all the tags beforehand starting this piece.

&&.

Palindrome by Nicolefrickle

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 7.9K

Summary: Hawks doesn't realize just how much he needs Endeavor, or why it feels like he's still racing time.

A character study of Hawks with flashbacks and inner thoughts, heavy on the Endhawks, heavy on the hurt

#boku no hero academia #my hero academy #endeavor #hawks #todoroki enji #is an asshole #endhawks #endhawks fic #fic reccomendations #fic rec #bnha fanfic recs #takami keigo #todoroki shouto #makes an appearence in some fics #he is so done #quarantine had me digging ao3 #bnha fanfiction #beggs' rec list

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ao3feed-geralt-jaskier · 4 years

Link

by clintbartonswife

Hurt and alone, Jaskier returns to Oxenfurt, to his only friend left, Essi Danvers.

Confused wasn't the right word for it exactly - it was more like Geralt’s whole body felt like it was off-axis, screaming for a missing piece. Ciri had noticed his odd behaviour earlier that day, “Are you alright Geralt?” The Witcher had assured her that he was fine, but the familiar feeling of the thread of destiny was pulling at him again, guiding him towards a small town just North of Ard Carraigh. The second they neared the tavern, he knew that fate was playing a cruel trick. Jaskier’s voice rang out, loud and true, melding beautifully with a female’s. The implication was enough to make him want to run away

Words: 4212, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Essi Daven

Additional Tags: Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Essi is like Jaskier's sister and no one can convince me otherwise, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on The Horror and the Wild by The Amazing Devil, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon Ships It, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #netflix the witcher #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #geraskier

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dragonnadder · 6 years

Text

Quicksilver and Pyrite

Before I begin, I should introduce. This is the first chapter of an AU Ninjago fanfiction I started post-TLNM, and plan to continue for some time. It’s been up on Wattpad for a while, but as I’m not friends with as many Ninjago fans there as here, I decided to try sharing here to see what y’all think. This also takes place after this one-shot I wrote.

Chapter 1 - Gilded Solstice, Part 1

Zane was the first one awake. He blinked his optical sensors open and performed a brief self-scan, making sure nothing was out of place. Satisfied, he climbed out of his bed (unnecessary, he knew, but comforting nonetheless), and wandered onto the deck of the Destiny's Bounty, floating at about two hundred meters in the air and roughly a kilometer from New Ninjago City. After climbing up on top of the poop deck, he sat down and watched the clear night sky slowly fade into the sunrise of the first day of the Gilded Solstice.

Cole was next up. He burst out from under his covers and sat on the edge of his bed, panting. His dreams were bothering him again, and meditating before bed hadn't helped. He tried another breathing exercise, but his heartbeat refused to still. If he even still had a heart - he was still a ghost. Visiting Yang's temple had done nothing for him, only given him more nightmares of their last visit. With a quiet growl, he stormed out through the bedroom walls and ran a few laps around the main deck. When his legs refused to carry him any longer, he collapsed on the ground, winded but clearer of mind. After flopping onto his back, the earth ninja noticed Zane sitting on the rooftop and watching his exertion. Sighing quietly, Cole quickly made his way up to his teammate, who looked down at him with a mild smile.

Lloyd woke up to a faint banging sound under the floorboards. A glance at the other beds revealed everyone but Kai having gotten up already. Jay and Nya's beds seemed hardly touched, which was concerning. With a small exhale, he stood up and let out a small laugh/groan as he put weight on his left leg, which was asleep. Ah, First Master, he cursed quietly, half limping to Kai's bedside and shaking the older ninja awake. He stirred and got up, one hand brushing loose strands of hair out of his face. "Lloyd? What's going on?"

"It's morning. I'm gonna go look for Jay and Nya, and I think the other two are above." A yell, a clang, and a peal of laughter interrupted him, followed by indistinct chatter. "That's probably them. Care to join me?"

"Sure," Kai blearily responded, pushing himself up. A red coloring tinged the fire ninja's cheeks as he sat up and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You okay, Kai?" Lloyd asked. "Your face is red."

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm... I'm fine." He stretches and tried to stand, but collapsed with a wince.

"You are the opposite of fine. Come on, I'll help you down." Lloyd pulled his teammate back up and supported him as they walked out of the room and down the stairs. "What happened between you and Jay?" he asked as the tingling in his leg faded and he could stand straighter. "Ever since you guys came back from that trip last week, there's been a weird vibe between the two of you."

"Nothing happened," he insisted, a small shiver running through him. "We're just-" He broke off in a fit of coughing.

"You're sick, Kai. Something happened, and now you're sick. You need to take it easy for once."

"What! I can't do that! I have three interviews scheduled for today! My fans need to be updated! I have to do things!"

"You can have Jay or Zane set you up with one of those facecon apps if it's so vital for you to contact them. But you're not heading into the city. You need to recover."

Kai continued protesting as the two headed down the corridor and stopped in front of the entrance to the mech dock the two techies had set aside for their projects. Lloyd pushed the trapdoor open, knelt, and looked around at the odd chaos the two had caused.

By some technomagical ingenuity, the inside of the mech dock was bigger than the entire ship seemed able to contain. Six color-coded mechanical beasts were arranged roughly equidistant from one another around the room. Each seemed designed after a different creature, all of which had capabilities of flight. Five of them - the red, green, black, and both blues - were sitting relatively peacefully around the hangar doors in the center room, albeit occasionally sparking from exposed wires and with various pieces of scrap metal sitting around and on them. The white mech, however, was a different story.

Seemingly designed to look like Zane's falcon, the mech was plated in silver and white with glowing blue eyes. Jay was sitting on the bird's shoulders (or whatever they were called, Lloyd certainly didn't know), yelling at the mech and waving a socket wrench wildly. His hair was vaguely poofy from being untended-to and probably awake the entire night. Nya was sitting on the ground nearby with a discarded welder and a few bits of metal, laughing.

Kai leaned over his shoulder and made a small sound of disbelief, and, before Lloyd realized what he was doing, pushed him aside and began to climb down the ladder. His grip failed him a few rings down, however, and he fell down the rest of the way, hitting the floor with a muffled whump. Lloyd quickly hurried down after him.

Jay had heard Kai's fall, and dropped his gear immediately. He slid down the back of the bird mech, which shuffled its feet and snapped its beak, and rushed over to him, Nya close behind him. He hardly noticed Lloyd coming down the ladder, all his attention focused on Kai. With Nya's help, he turned him over onto his back and checked him over for injuries, of which none were noticeable.

"Is he okay?" Lloyd asked, having come over at some point, and Jay gave a panicked laugh.

"Okay? Of course he's okay! Anyone would be okay after falling thirty feet off a ladder!" He continued ranting for a few moments more, but stopped as he felt Kai stir under his hands.

"Jay-Jay, stop panicking," his muffled voice said slowly. "It's... not helping."

"First Master, Kai! You scared me half to death!"

There was a pause.

"You scared both of us almost entirely to death," was the fire ninja's response as he slowly sat back up.

Jay laughed and hugged Kai, and Lloyd and Nya glanced between the two, obviously confused.

"Weird vibe, I'm telling you," he overheard him say to her.

"Jay, get off, now," Kai said after a few moments. He released his stranglehold and backed off as he stood.

"Where're Cole and Zane?" Jay asked after noting their absence. "I don't feel like explaining these mechs more than once."

"They're above, most likely," Lloyd replied. "I think they're-"

"Speak of the devil," Nya interrupted, gesturing to the ladder. The two missing ninja were climbing down and walking over to the other four.

"'Morning!" Zane said cheerfully. "We heard a bit of a commotion and decided to come down. Hopefully you haven't forgotten about the Gilded Solstice celebrations?"

"The... Oh, First Master," Jay groaned, putting his face in his hands. He felt someone - Kai, probably - put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We completely forgot. The mechs aren't quite finished yet, but almost all the wiring and coding's complete. Maybe you boys could help us finish up?" Nya asked.

Cole responded, "You're gonna have to catch us up a bit first, Nya. We got a lot of work to do, and I'd rather not screw it up."

Kai's mech was a streamlined firebird in red and orange whose form could be ignited with a press of a button. He was quick to point out that he could also light them up with his own powers, and was eager to test it out before being shouted down by the other ninja, for obvious reasons.

The darker blue mech was Jay's, in the form of a dragonfly/firefly fusion. The wings and abdomen of the bug would be able to light up in glowing lightning blue and course with electricity when complete. At the moment, they were just semitransparent reinforced glass or tough cloth.

Nya's mech was also a bird, designed after the legendary sigmarus, a water-elemental form of a phoenix. Painted in every shade of turquoise and ocean blue, it would be a sight to see out in the sky.

Next to Zane's falcon stood Cole's mech, a brown, copper, and bronze dragon with striking similarity to his first dragon, Rocky. Its onboard AI had been designed to mimic Rocky as much as Jay could remember, with a bit of unknowing input from Cole himself.

The final mech belonged to Lloyd. It was a serpentine, wingless dragon in various hues of green and accented with gold, a nod to his former place as the Golden Ninja. The dragon's eyes whirred to life and it looked at its blonde owner with a slightly tilted head. He waved back, nervous, and the mech responded with a small puff of warm air and a slow blink.

The six ninja set to work quickly, fixing, adjusting, and testing the mechs. Zane shouted out the time every so often, to their annoyance - the celebrations would begin at sunset, which, as Zane reminded them, was at 8:43 in the evening. About an hour before noon, Kai took one of the skimmers Cyrus Borg had built for them a little while before and headed out to the city to grab lunch for the group. By the time he got back with noodles from Skylor's noodle place, the others were about to give up and go make food themselves.

After a short lunch break, Jay and Nya were satisfied enough with their progress that the group took their mechs out for a test flight. One by one, they dropped out of the mech bay and sailed into the open sky. Although the mechs still had a few kinks to work out, Nya was happy with how far they'd gotten. They might even be able to decorate the mechs before the Solstice festivities began. They'd definitely have time to deck the ship, though.

With a bit of struggle, the ninja managed to split into two groups to continue preparing. Zane, Jay, and Lloyd stayed and continued working on the mechs, while Nya, Kai, and Cole went up and started finding decorations for the Destiny's Bounty.

As they dug around in the storage rooms, Kai was struck by the sheer amount of tea supplies. Sensei Wu had obviously been prepared for many long journeys before he was sent into the time rift. He sifted through one small container, crushing some of the leaves together on his fingers and smelling them. They smelled vaguely like peppermint and lemon.

"I found a stash of lanterns," he heard Nya announce. "We could string these up on the railings, and on the roof of the pilot's cabin."

"That could look good on the sails, too. Kai, mind lighting these up for us once we get above?"

He lifted his head and nodded. "No problem."

"We can't put lanterns on the sails, it'll impede their function and we wouldn't be able to go anywhere."

"Maybe you're right at that."

Nya scoffed. "Maybe."

"What've you got there, Kai?" Cole asked, kneeling next to him.

"Sensei's tea leaves."

"He had a lot of them."

"You could say that again."

There was a brief pause as the three remembered their old Sensei.

"How old even was he?" Kai eventually asked. "I don't remember him ever telling us, and since he's the First Spinjitzu Master's son, he must be pretty dang old."

"He mentioned to the three of us before you arrived that he was roughly a hundred and fifty, something along those lines," Cole responded.

"A hundred fifty!" Nya exclaimed, having joined the other two. "That's absurd. The average person lives for maybe eighty years, ninety if they push it. Even then, they're almost completely bald. Either something genetic in the First Master's lineage gave him really long life, or he was lying to us."

"Sensei wouldn't lie to us," Cole protested.

"Wouldn't he?" Kai challenged.

"What cause would he have to lie to us?"

"To keep us safe? To make sure we couldn't destroy him and the rest of the team if we decided to turn against him? He's already-"

"You'd turn against us? What kind of ninja are you?"

"Hypothetically speaking! Why would I want to betray you guys? You're my best friends!"

"Like that's stopped you from leaving us behind before!"

The argument raged on for the better part of a minute, until Nya interrupted with an explosive "Enough!"

Both boys turned to look at her.

"Your arguing isn't helping anyone, least of all yourselves. We have an entire ship to decorate before sunset, and you're bickering like drunkards in a barroom. We are a team, whether you like it or not, whether Wu lied to us or not, so you had better suck up the insults you're throwing at each other and help out or I swear to the First Spinjitzu Master I'll have you cleaning up the streets on your own after the celebrations are over."

Kai exchanged looks with Cole. "Understood, sis."

"Good. Now help me get these lanterns up on deck."

The team of three made quick work of hanging the red paper lanterns around the ship. Off the railings, on the roof's overhang, anywhere they would decoratively fit and not impede the function of the ship. Kai was, for once, careful not to light entire strings of lights on fire, instead focusing on the fires to make them small and concentrated, as Wu had tried to teach him from the start. Cole had found some red and gold ribbon, and climbed up the mast to decorate a bit further, while Nya fastened the lantern strings in place along the ship. The sun was just an hour or so from touching the horizon when the other group of three came up on deck and announced that they were done, and Zane brought out a meat pie for the team's dinner.

Roughly fifteen minutes before sunset, the ninja headed belowdecks to check out the mechs. After settling in and reconfirming their familiarity with the controls, the hangar doors opened, and one by one the team dropped down and flew toward the city.

The often-bustling and chaotic city was decorated similarly to the Bounty, in streams of gold and red. Glowing paper lanterns hung along rooftops and across roads, and depictions of all manner of creatures adorned every meter. Near the center of the city, merchants and food-sellers set up shop in several of the town squares and were hawking their wares as the people danced to the festive music and held cheerful conversation with friends, strangers, and out-of-towners alike. The parades hadn't begun yet, so the ninja landed on the flat roof of a tall nearby building and dismounted, telling the mechs to stay put until they were called.

"Shall we head down?" Lloyd asked with a grin, gesturing to the ground several stories below.

"Race you!" Kai responded, leaping off the building. Jay hurried to the edge, along with the other ninja, and saw him shooting fire out of his hands and feet to slow his fall. He grinned and vaulted over the side, magnetizing his hands and jumping between metal outcrops. Zane flew past him, surfing down an ice bridge forming before him, and Cole followed close behind on a flat slab of rock. Nya shot down nearby, starting a Cyclon-do spin to stop from splatting onto the ground. Behind all the rest, Lloyd swung down, carefully parkouring down the side of the building.

After regrouping on the ground, the team set off to Diamond Square, where the main festivities were taking place. They quickly split up, each heading to a different section of the square. Jay hurried to the food stalls and stared at the goods for sale. Melons and fruits sat next to cherry pies and caramels, and jerky and kebab sticks abounded. He noticed that Chen's Noodle House had set up a small shop a few stalls away, and waved as a break in the crowd appeared and he caught sight of Skylor, who grinned back. Seeing as he had little else to do, he headed over to talk.

"That's 35 back. Enjoy your meal!" she said to the last person in line, who thanked her and walked into the crowd. "'Evening, Jay. What brings you here?"

"We're waiting for the parades to start organizing," he said with an offhand shrug. "You taking part this year?"

She snorted a laugh. "Hardly. There's a chance next year, if I can get someone else to run the booth. Even then, I'd need to build a float or something of the kind, and I'm not sure how much time I have for that."

"Nya and I built our team flying mechs this year. We could probably build you one, too," Jay offered. "We could hold on to it when you're not using it, too, in case you don't have space."

The Master of Amber seemed lost for words, and perhaps the slightest bit confused. "That... that would be great," she finally got out, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. "Thanks, Jay."

"I'll send you a message later with details."

"Jay! Sky!" The two turned and saw Kai heading toward them.

"Kai!" she called back with a wave. "You guys are gonna be in the parade?"

"Yep! This guy-" he lightly punched Jay's shoulder "-and my sis built these awesome mechs for us."

"He told me. He also offered to build me a mech for next year's festivities," she said, favoring Jay with a small smile. "Maybe I'll join you then."

"That would be awesome," Kai agreed. "I'm gonna go find Cole."

"I think I saw him by the DJs," Jay told him, gesturing to a spot a short distance from the dancers. As he left, the music changed from cheerful and light to rock and roll.

"He's still a ghost, right?" Skylor asked, and he nodded. "Poor guy. How's he dealing with that?"

"He went to Sensei Yang's temple a few weeks back, before the whole Hands of Time thing. Thought it would help him turn back to human, but it didn't work. He's been having nightmares since then, too."

"Man."

"No kidding."

The two watched the crowd for a few minutes with a few insignificant comments about the festivities before a gong's chime quieted the city. Rising from the post he had been leaning against, Jay told Skylor, "That's our cue to prepare. See you in a bit?"

She smiled and waved him off, and he quickly headed to the building they had landed their mechs on. Zane was sitting on his falcon already, and waved a welcome to Jay as he climbed over the edge of the roof. His lightning bug (he internally chuckled at the pun) was still sitting in the same spot he had left it, luckily. It whirred to life and turned to look at him, and he patted its head before hoisting himself up in front of its wings, checking the panels and levers in its head.

The other ninja quickly appeared, and with a few last-minute power checks and décor adjustments, the group set off to where the parade was organizing.

"Ah! Ninja! We have a spot for you near the front if you'd like to walk, but it appears you've come prepared to fly. Would you like to do that instead?" An organizer dashed up toward them. Her auburn hair seemed disheveled, and she brushed a wavy lock out of her slightly flushed face as she spoke.

"We can fly if there's enough space on the roads," Lloyd responded, climbing down from his dragon, who snorted and nudged his head with its snout while Jay held back laughter at the friendliness of the dragon.

"There should be plenty if you don't all line up side by side."

"Awesome, thanks." Lloyd climbed back up and the team took off into the air, planning out some group maneuvers.

"I have a name for you now," Jay told his mech, who looked back at him and whirred curiously. "Storm. Whaddya think?" It made a sound of approval, and he grinned, patting its side.

"All right! Ninja are heading out first! Repeat, ninja are heading out!" a different organizer called, gesturing a go-ahead to the team. With a shared smile, the ninja zigzagged through the streets and entered Diamond Square as they activated their special abilities.

Kai's phoenix lit on fire as he flipped upside down and high-fived the crowd beneath him, while Nya's sigmarus seemed to ripple and glow slightly. Mech-Rocky breathed out a burst of stone and corkscrewed through the air, and Zane's falcon threw up snow clouds wherever its wings passed. Jay began channeling the lightning, lighting up Storm's transparent bits and glowing with an electric blue, and Lloyd's dragon grew semitransparent, crackling green energy wings as it swooped through the air. Jag felt a wild grin light up his face at how well the mechs were functioning, and whooped as he pulled Storm into a backwards loop.

The crowd cheered, clearly in awe of the mechs, and chattered excitedly. Jay spotted Skylor standing with Camille and Neuro on the far side of the square and waved a hello, which was quickly returned by all three. An effusive grin on his face, he guided Storm in a glowing loop around the square and down a side road, meeting back up with the other ninja as they went up and landed on a building overlooking the square to watch the rest of the parade.

A troupe of dancers had come after the six, and were currently spinning and leaping in flashes of orange and yellow as a small group of musicians played a sprightly accompaniment. After they vaulted through, two battle suits, one in gold and green, the other in black and violet with an extra set of arms, reenacted a scene of combat that Jay recognized as Lloyd and Lord Garmadon's combat some time ago. A glance over at his teammate confirmed his guess. Lloyd was watching them with a faint mixture of a frown and a laughing smile. Beyond them, Dareth and his trainees displayed their skills, to the ninjas' hilarity.

The parade continued for what must have been an hour at the least. As they neared the end, the center of the square opened up, and more festive music began playing as couples entered the opening and began a dance Jay thought he recognized.

"Should we head down and join them?" he asked, looking at his teammates. With the exception of Cole, they all agreed and quickly joined the circles of dancers.

Cole looked at his ghostly green-grey hands and sighed. Rocky lay down next to him, and he stroked his head with one hand. "If only going to Yang's temple had worked," he said quietly. "If only anything had worked. I miss going swimming with the others. And water balloon fights. Now I can't even touch a glass of water without going paranoid."

The dragon made a rumbling sound and nudged at his side, seeming to recognize Cole's... sadness? He wasn't sure what to call it.

"I can't age, I can't eat or drink, I can't even touch half the things around me. If I stay dry, I would just... exist, possibly forever. I don't want that, but I don't want to die without becoming solid again first." He leaned back against Rocky's side and exhaled a sigh. "Am I dead already? I don't need any of the essentials of living life, but I still feel. I still hurt, and I still laugh and sadden and all of that. Maybe I'm just an in-between. Not dead or alive, just... existing, here, now. Forever."

The two sat on the roof and watched the moon cross the three-quarters-down mark, surrounded by deactivated and sleeping mechs and seeming for all the world as sentinels of a forgotten age as the dances continued below.

As the stars turned in their endless cycle above him, Cole drifted through his thoughts aimlessly. A new vision overlaid the cityscape before him - crumbling ruins colored with rust and vines, dust swirling through abandoned roads. The patterns of the Diamond Square were chipped and faded, untouched in what must have been decades, perhaps centuries. The mechs around him were rusted and torn, never again to raise their heads and spread their wings for flight. The sky was clear and filled with stars in a way the living city, the old city, never could have seen. Despite the ruins all around him, a sense of serenity pervaded the air, albeit tinged with a bit of sadness. He was the only "living" creature in this new world, the guardian of a past unremembered and watcher of a future unknown.

Here was a world where he could fit in. Here was a world where he could walk through the city without being stared at and hidden from.

Here he was alone.

In both this future and the present, Cole was still as the ghostly traces of music rippled through his thoughts and the moon slowly set behind him, marking the end of the first - and last - night of the Gilded Solstice.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago nya #ninjago lloyd #ninjago plasmashipping #plasmashipping #Fireshock #ninjago skylor #ninjago camille #ninjago neuro #ruby writes #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #ninjago fanfiction

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ficletsandthelike · 6 years

Photo

Flying Wingless (Part 2)

Read Part 1 Here!

Alas, we have returned to the world of mermaid Lance. The first part was really well received, so hopefully you all will enjoy once more!

“Lance, I want you to promise me you won’t tell a single soul besides your family.” His mother cupped her hands around his cheeks, wet with ocean spray and tears of relief to finally return home.

Confusion clouded his features. He opened his mouth after a beat to protest, but her soft hold tightened as she shushed him.

“They’ll try to take you, Lance.” Her hands trembled slightly, sending a shiver of fear up her son’s spine. “When people find something special, something unique and beautiful...” A sob choked its way past her lips, swallowed back hard as Lance whimpered.

“...they destroy it.”

Lance held his mother’s locket up to the light, letting the fluorescent glare bounce off the golden heart and matching chain. Dropping it back into his palm, he opened the well-worn clasp and studied the photos inside, scrutinizing every spot of color as if it wasn’t already embedded deep into his memory.

The left showed him at around six; he smiled a gap-toothed grin, proudly standing near a sand castle almost as tall as him. That was the first day he had been allowed back to the beach alone, and he spent every minute digging and sculpting until he was satisfied that he had, in fact, made the best sand castle in Cuba. Lance recalled his sunburned cheeks glowing at the praise from his papa and laughed to himself.

The right was the soft features of his mama. She smiled at Lance at he rubbed the picture. She had hugged him tightly, beaming with pride and waving his Garrison acceptance letter in every face she could find, but Lance knew how her enthusiasm faltered when she thought he wasn’t looking. He knew he was leaving her all alone, and still he had packed his bags without hesitation.

The door slid open, jerking Lance back to the present. He blinked away the stinging in his eyes and looked up to see Hunk’s nervous figure filling the doorway.

“Yo, dude, Iverson’s going to have an aneurysm if we’re not by the training area in ten,” The larger boy warned, fussing with his feathers as if the commander was already breathing down his neck. Lance yawned, placing the locket on his pillow before standing lazily.

“Would that really be so bad?” Lance replied. Their shoes clacked against cold metal, filling the brief silence until Pidge materialized from the next hallway over.

“Pidge, my man! What’s going on in that crazy genius brain of yours today?” asked Lance, dropping back to peer at his classmate’s laptop screen. He earned a glare and a pointed shift to block his view; he squashed a pang of hurt and grinned wider. “Any idea what we’re doing today?”

“Whatever it is, you’d better not screw it up like yesterday,” Pidge responded, scowling up at him.

“Hey, I seem to recall that none of us followed procedure! Besides, wasn’t I the one that saved your butt from snapping at Iverson and earning us all detention?” Lance retorted. Their argument was cut short as they reached the training hall, sliding into the back of the crowd as Commander Iverson began the debriefing.

“Listen up, cadets,” he boomed, causing several students to flinch. “Today will be a break from the regular routine. Hopefully it’ll give some of us a chance to study basic maneuvers while we test out new situations.” He stared at the group, and Lance gulped.

“We’ll be working on our reactions to dangerous circumstances for the next week or so, specifically problem-solving and escape. Today...” Iverson shifted to the side, bringing up a hologram with instructions. “We’ll be simulating an ocean crash.”

Lance felt his stomach drop and bit his cheek, trying to push back the panic rising up his throat.

“Each trio will fly the aircraft as normal for a random period of time. The engine will fail, and the team will be tested on their ability to resolve the problem before hitting the water or escaping safely before water fully submerges the ship.” A chorus of whispers exploded, and Lance took the opportunity to think.

He couldn’t get out of it by pretending to be sick; everyone was scared to have their wings potentially bogged down by the water, and Iverson would scold him for being weak despite his advantage. Lance ran his fingers through his hair, remembering his mother’s face creased with worry. He couldn’t let them know just how much of an advantage he had, no matter whether or not he failed.

He turned to Pidge and Hunk, who looked almost as terrified. “No matter what, we need to get out of there before hitting the water,” he declared. Even Pidge bobbed his head in agreement, and Iverson yelled over the chatter.

“Team Jenson! You’re up first!”

“Team McClain, you’re up.”

Lance slid on his helmet and stepped into the fake airship, trying to ignore the pit of dread coiled tightly around his middle. He heard the door hiss shut as he plopped down in the pilot’s seat and cracked his knuckles. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said with false confidence.

As the commander had said, everything began smoothly. Hunk prodded at various wires, Pidge double-checked each system, and Lance flicked various switches to keep the craft flying strong. Blue skies stretched endlessly through the screen, emulating the feel of the mid-afternoon flight that Lance had always dreamed of.

A beeping sound came from behind Lance, and he knew the test had begun. “Pidge, scan for overheating and leakage. Hunk, check configurations.” He steered as best he could, guiding them out of various tilts and even a tailspin. After nothing but grunts and silence, he could feel his agitation growing.

“Pidge, status?” He asked, sharper than he meant to. “Nothing’s showing up; it’s got to be something with the wiring, but Gutbuster over there’s too busy trying not to lose his lunch,” the boy snapped back, adjusting his glasses and returning to furious typing.

“Hunk, come on buddy! Worry about food later and get on that engine fixing! We’re kind of getting close to the water, you know...” Lance called, clenching the wheel harder as the ocean came into view. “I’m- trying but-” A disgusting belch caused Lance to roll his eyes. “Okay, okay, this is fine, just give me a minute,” Hunk replied.

“Altitude: way too close,” Pidge said, tapping at the alarms that had started to screech in the cabin. “Yeah, real helpful!” Lance barked. A sizzling sound came from Hunk’s corner, followed by a “got it!” The alarms faded, and Lance sent the ship back up into the air. The sky faded to black, replaced by glowing green text and a robotic voice announcing “MISSION PASSED.”

They stumbled out to the deck, awaiting Iverson’s comments. The commander loomed over them, sending shivers down Lance’s spine despite the relief at their success. “Team McClain was able to fix the engine and maintain acceptable altitude. Can someone tell me, however, why that was nothing but luck?” Lance felt Hunk stiffen beside him, and Pidge muttered an angry “what?” under his breath.

“They yelled at each other instead of working as a team.”

“They did their own jobs, but didn’t help each other at all.”

“The engineer puked.”

Iverson swept his gaze over the trio before facing the class. “Exactly. Even competency in your own job will never make up for lack of teamwork in a real flight.” He turned to Lance, who felt a bead of sweat drip down his face. “You may be improving as a pilot, McClain, but your pride and sour attitude are going to leave you in the dust, just like Kogane.” Lance bristled at the mention of his old rival, but Iverson had already moved on to the next team.

After the bell had rung, Lance sped straight back to his room, not even stopping to admire ladies in the dining hall. His skin longed to be under the cool touch of water; after the unfulfilled promise of ocean from class, every molecule in his body clawed against his rigid decision to hide his needs. Opening the bathroom door, he wrenched the shower handle and dipped into the tub, sighing heavily as the water stung his toes in a cold welcome.

Filling the tub to the brim, Lance shut off the faucet and rinsed his face gently, letting the scales peek out along his cheekbone. His tail glittered underneath the surface, free yet still cramped in its porcelain trap. He let his back rest against the wall, closing his eyes.

“You may be improving as a pilot, McClain, but your pride and sour attitude are going to leave you in the dust.”

“Just like Kogane.”

“I’ll never be like Mullet,” Lance mumbled to himself. “I’ll never be hotheaded, or think I can do whatever I want because I’m the best thing since sliced bread. I’ll never get to fly away because my idol disappeared in space. I’m not some weird ninja pilot. I’m just the goofball cargo pilot.”

“I’m just the screwup.”

Part 3 is here!

#langst #lance mcclain #voltron lance #vld lance #lance vld #mermaid!lance #mermaid lance au #my writing #flying wingless

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ridleytheknight · 7 years

Text

He Clipped My Wings;

Langst fanfiction! This is part one of two requested by @angielmao-blog This is a wingfic and the only trigger warnings I have are!

Suicidal thoughts

Graphic depictions of violence

Please enjoy~

Lance never knew what to think of anything really. But he guessed that’s what happened in a Galran controlled world. The sky was green, the grass was blue, and the whole earth was turned upside down and inside out. Ever since he was born he’d never understood anything about the Galra or the government at all.

But he did that he needed to fly. Not just with the wings on his back. But with a machine too. He needed to feel the purring off an engine underneath his feet. Needed to feel that control panel and those handles clenched in his hands. Needed to work with, fly with something much bigger than him. To feel free. Pilots were the only one who got to leave their homes to see the world. If not different parts of earth, then they got to see different worlds. And all of that was finally in reach when he got accepted into the Garrison.

It was hard, the school, but so worth it. Especially now as he worked on a space ship. A space ship! Going back and forth between the different ports of the Galran empire. Though, it wasn’t a cargo ship. Nor was Lance technically a pilot. No, he was a soldier in the Galran guard force. It was like the navy. Except. In space. That was cool wasn’t it?

Even if the thought at shooting at rebels and other people with families made him feel sick inside. Lance was free. As free as he could get. And Lance would cling to that opportunity with the last breath he could take into his lungs. Though, Lance had to admit. If he were transferred to another ship, he wouldn’t be, unhappy per say…

His commander unnerved him.

Lotor, he was the illegitimate son of their emperor Zarkon, but still a powerful man in the Galran force. And for some reason. Lance could always feel his eyes on him. Or more precisely his wings.

Everyone had wings on earth, it was a born gift. Very few were born without them. And those born without were either coddled or rejected and abused depending on where you were born and what part of society you are from. Though Lance had wings. Very beautiful wings if Lance was allowed to brag. With dark as night blues mixed with teals and medium blues in unpredictable patterns. Lance was very proud of them, and loved to show them off when he was allowed. Usually, people looking at his wings made him puff up in pride.

So why, in front of his superior. Did he feel the need to curl up and pull them tight against his back protectively? Why did he shudder in feel at the feeling of Lotor’s brushing hands against his feathers? Either way, Lance knew that Lotor was interested. In him or his wings. Lance had no clue.

But hey, it wasn’t like Lotor could stare at his wings without Lance. They were a package deal, so Lance felt a little lucky. He had a stable job. Even if he was a little creeped out and a whole lot scared. He would be fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Rebels were attacking the ship and everyone was in panic. It was Shiro’s crew. An ex-soldier of the Galra. Also known as the Champion. Mixed with a crew of even more formidable people. No one stood a chance against the rebel force known as Voltron. Not without at least a few ships. But Lance’s vessel was only one ship. Lance would later wonder if this was a blessing or a curse. Since after that first attack, he was alive and well. None of the crew he’d accidently come across in his scrambling around the ship attacked him. Only giving him looks of surprise or appreciation as he would duck out of their way and stick to the wall. Hoping to appear as small as possible. Not even daring to try and grab his gun. No matter how good a shot he was with it.

His compliance and submission is probably what saved his life. But the distraction those brave rebels had caused. Had also ruined him as his commander finally found him in the fray. Smiling at him and grabbing him into a room. Promising safety and sanction. Lance thought he should feel safe as the commander comforted him, held him under a wing for protection. But Lance could help but feel as if something were wrong. Something were off about the smile that was meant to be comforting. But Lance didn’t know what it was. Until it was too late and his intentions came with startling clarity.

“It’s a shame what Voltron did to you, isn’t it gorgeous?” Lance crooked an eyebrow at the man. Going to voice his confusion. Lotor had rescued him from Voltron (Not that he’d been hurt by them in the first place) But hands on his wings silenced him. The grip on the joints of his back froze him as they tightened harshly. Causing some discomfort as Lance tried to squirm away.

“This will only hurt for a little bit~” But that was a lie. Lance felt everything. The way his wings flailed as the joints popped out of socket. The ripping of his flesh and feathers falling down to the ground as force ripped them out. Blood cascading down his back in waterfalls as Lance shrieked in agony. Feeling every bit of pain until he passed out, only staying conscious until the last tissue of his wings tore from his back, and the emptiness of the missing limbs rushed in with the pain and agony.

What had he done?

Lotor was a lie. It didn’t hurt for only a little bit. It hurt constantly. Like an ache in Lance’s heart. Not even the few feathers that Lance kept and managed to make into small accessories and trinkets in an effort to keep his wings close fought away the empty ache in his soul. Lotor had also lied and told them it was Voltron’s doing. That Lance was disabled through Voltron. Now, even though it was Lotor’s fault. It wasn’t birth or his own. He was labeled a wingless. Scum of the Galran empire. It was only through Lotor’s enjoyment of his suffering that Lance stayed on the ship as a janitor sort of thing. Facing the pain of harassment and homesickness alone.

The sight of Lotor’s smile and the gruesome flashing of bloodied blue feathers peeking from Lotor’s closet when Lance was forced to clean his room only made the pain in his back and his soul worse. Lance wanted his mom’s hugs. But even more than that, Lance wanted to die.

Maybe in heaven his wings could be returned to him.

The second attack was his perfect opportunity. Though, Lance had to admit, he was shocked. Voltron had never been known to attack the same ship twice. And on the same route. Not to mention that they’d come just as Lance was contemplating how to be done with this awful existence.

If the first attack took his wings, who would blink if the second attack took his life? Whether he died in battle, or killed himself. Both could be blamed with either PTSD of seeing Voltron again. Or him not surviving ‘another cruel encounter’ with the rebel force. Not like they knew who was the real culprit. And Lance no longer cared about justice.

Lance just wanted the pain to stop.

The first sighting Lance saw of Voltron, he could see the surprise in their eyes. It was the white-haired man. The Champion. Lance bit his lip. It was a traitorous thought, and if Lance even breathed it the Galra would have his head. But he knew, Shiro wasn’t a bad man. Shiro was trying to fight for what he saw as right. Lance had never seen him kill an innocent man or civilian in all of the video footage or stories of the strong man. Lance could understand his surprise.

Most of his original crew had perished in the first attack, usually that would mean a rank up for the soldier who’s survived. And here was a fighter pilot, now in just plain clothing. Bandages covering the tan abused skin the crop top did not cover. Lance paused.

Shiro would not kill him, so he was pretty useless in Lance’s idea. Huh… but, helping the enemy would shame his reputation… but it would also get him executed for treason. He would be rebelling against the man who took his wings. And he’d get to die and end the pain of a life without them.

That sounded like a win to Lance.

Lance smiled at Shiro, getting a small smile back as Lance walked backwards. Confusing Shiro, until the man seemed to get the silent message. ‘Follow me’ Lance’s body movements tried to goad Shiro. The rebel looked wary, Lance could understand that. Lance smiled reassuringly. Arms spreading to show he was unarmed as Shiro finally did follow Lance into his room.

It was a little ratty. A little moldy. But away from the other rooms. Private. No one would hear them here. Lance smiled at Shiro as he started the questioning.

“Why have you guided me here?” Lance bowed his head a little.

“I want to help you if you’d like.” Shiro furrowed a brow. Suspicion rising in his features. He could usually tell a hidden rebel from the rest. But the tan boy in front of him was unreadable. Something about the boy was off. Unsettling. But nothing that scared Shiro. Rather it was something that made him curious. Made him want to lean a little closer. Figure out exactly what was causing the strange manner of the boy in front of him.

“Why would you do that?” Lance gave a smooth smile.

“It’s not quite getting even, but rather getting back at someone that’s wronged me here.” The boy gave a heartbreaking smile, his eyes weren’t on Shiro, rather looking at a homemade jewelry stand with different trinkets and accessories. They looked homemade, Shiro guessed they were important as the boy almost looked ready to either cry or kill someone.

“My commander. The bastard took something from me that nothing can or ever will replace. Nothing I could do to them would ever be enough for what they did to me. But I don’t mind. I just want a little justice. Rebelling a little bit against them will give me at least a little satisfaction, and probably will get me something I want.” Shiro’s eyes flashed in interest.

“What do you mean?” Lance gave a smirk.

“Simple. I want a little revenge, and this is my best way of getting it. The consequences if I’m found out… eh. I’m not afraid of it anymore I guess. The look on his face after your attack will be enough for me. I’ll die a happy, happy man.” Shiro seemed a little disturbed, but gave a grimacing smile at the boy. The boy had been downgraded from a fighter to an underling. Shiro could see the forming of a bruise on his jaw and the stiff way he held himself. Red leaking through the bandaging on his limbs. He was ready for death. But he wanted to go out doing something against the people that were killing him.

Shiro could understand his motives. Shiro knew what it felt like, wanted the same thing too. But Shiro wasn’t going to let that happen. Not that the tan boy would know that just yet, for now. Shiro was going to give him the satisfaction of rebelling against his tormentors without any confusion or strings attached.

“I thank you for your help then, Do you know where the cargo hold is?” Shiro watched the tan boy light up with a large grin. Making Shiro smile himself as Lance mischievously jingled keys around his neck.

“Bottom deck, what are we waiting for handsome?” Lance glided his way out of the room. Shiro following behind closely. Gun held at the ready to defend the boy against anyone they might come across. Though Shiro wasn’t surprised when Lance himself grabbed a gun from a fallen soldier, reloading it and cocking the hammer to make it ready to go almost instinctually. Blue eyes focused. He was a fighter. War torn and broken. But a fighter. The light of joy and fulfillment in the tan boy’s eyes as Shiro tossed the supplies out the airlock for his colleagues made him smile too. Almost as much as the sheer surprise on the boy’s face when Shiro grabbed his unbandaged hand and dragged him along as he ran to the extraction point instead of leaving Lance behind red-handed like Lance had suspected.

Though Shiro was thankful that Lance didn’t fight him, true, it would be easy to lift the skinny boy and run with him if he tried to struggle. It would feel a lot less like the tan boy consensually rebelling with Shiro if he did though. Shiro was tempted to just grab the boy however as they ran, the boy’s cheeks were turning red and Shiro could tell his injuries were grinding on his by the stutters in his steps and how his free arm pressed against his ribs. There was a shine of determination in those eyes however, and Shiro let the man run alongside him.

That’s were things got a little hairy. Everyone was filed into Shiro’s lion for escape, except for Keith who was fighting to keep the bay clear for Shiro’s arrival. But Shiro hadn’t excepted it to take so long to empty the cargo hold, he had barely even expected to find it until the Hispanic boy had offered him help and a key. But even then time was growing short. Shiro was at the opening and Keith was pressing in behind. Until he was being dragged away, kicking and screaming. Shiro screamed, holding tightly onto Lance as if to insure no one else exposed would be taken. However, Lance was quiet. Raising his left arm with the gun cocked in his hand.

Shiro’s breath caught in his throat. No. The boy wasn’t going to betray them, right? Keith was too far away for a shot to be accurate. Shiro could barely even see the Galran restraining him. Using Keith as a shield. But Shiro was shocked as the boy’s gun fired. The shot sailing safely over Keith’s head and hitting the Galran right between the eyes at what should have been an impossible distance. Keith scrambling away and shoving Shiro with the boy into the lion and taking off. The boy grinned at him, the smile obviously pained as Shiro pulled the boy tighter against his chest. Lance’s tender back pressed against Shiro’s hard chest plate.

“They called me sharpshooter for a reason.” The Hispanic boy gave a painful laugh, “Though, I admit. I took a gamble without my rifle. Pistols were never my thing.” Shiro gave a reassuring a smile.

“You saved Keith back there, with a great shot. I think you’re just fine with a pistol…?” The tan boy gave a smirk at the silent question.

“Lance. My name is Lance. Nice to meet you Shiro.” Shiro gave a smile and pulled Lance to a seat in the Lion. Avoiding Allura and Keith who were conversing and sending curious glances toward the tan boy Shiro was silently fussing over every now and again while the Black Lion flew back to the castle. Shiro caught Keith’s eye as the dark-haired man seemed to shift impatiently. Eyes on the tan boy the entire time. Shiro smiled and waved him over as he sat next to Lance.

“Well Lance, I want you to meet some of our team.” Keith approached and Lance couldn’t help but suppress a shudder at the sight of those violet eyes staring into him. Everything about Keith screamed dominance, the way his wings stayed lifted and strong, perched on his back. How his eyes glared at Lance, not unkindly, but something in Lance knew that Keith would have no problem breaking him if he had to. The look in his eyes made Lance’s back scream at its familiarity, but Lance stayed calm. Shiro was right there next to him, smiling gently and coaxingly. Shiro trusted the man he introduced as Keith, so that meant Lance could to. Lance smiled at Keith as Shiro wrapped a grey and white wing around Lance as a reassurance. Lance held out a hand.

“I’m Lance, and you are?” Keith’s eyes finally softened, a small smirk lighting up on his lips as Keith took the tan boy’s hand respectfully with a careful grip at the sight of bloodied bandages of the other. Lance felt a wave of relief and calm. Lotor’s eyes never became gentle. Lotor was never careful with the injured of their crew.

“Keith, I want to thank you for helping us out. Me out.” Lance gave a cocky grin, Keith had to resist the urge to roll his eyes with his own smile. He could feel a snarky comment just bubbling under the tan boy’s skin.

“Not a problem Mullet man.” Keith gaped and Shiro gave a loud laugh at the comment, grinning at the tan boy. Anyone who could call out Keith’s mullet was good in his book. Lance gave another grin and Keith gave a sigh, dropping down to the other side of Lance. Hands pressed to his temples.

“I’m guessing I’ll be get ‘the eighties called me for you joke now?” Lance gave a smirk.

“Why would they be calling me for your bad haircut? They’ll be calling you man, keep me, the middle man, out of your strange eighties love affair.” Allura gave a coughing laugh in the front of the lion as she phoned the castle to inform Coran of their success. Lance grinned at the laugh, lighting up under the attention causing Keith and Shiro to give joint smiles. Both their wings rewrapping around the injured boy tightly. Though Keith grimaced as the boy’s boney structure bumped against him.

First thing they were doing when they got back to the castle was sticking this boy in the med bay to get rebandaged. Then Keith was kidnapping him to grab some food for the drastically underweight and lanky boy. After that, maybe force Lance to take a nap, seeing the dark bags underneath his eyes. Though, from the looks of it Lance would definitely need some painkillers. And Keith knew from experience that Coran’s painkillers were amazing for helping injuries heal, but they also knocked you the hell out. A nap/good night’s sleep would be mandatory. Though, by the way Lance was slowly, leaning more and more of his light weight against their wings, and by the tilt of his head, he was already dozing off. Shiro gave a small tilting smile before he gently moved the boy to lay down. Quietly chuffing as Keith claimed Lance’s upper body to lay on his lap, carefully avoiding how Lance would jolt at certain touches on his torso until he relax. Letting Shiro and Keith hold him steady on the ride back to the castle as he tumbled into unconsciousness. Keith smirked at Shiro who was watching Lance carefully, the rise and fall of the tan boy’s chest.

“Your need to take care of anything with a pulse is showing again babe.” Shiro grumbled, shifting so he could trace the red tinted wraps that showed from beneath Lance’s jeans.

“Like you aren’t looking either.” Keith shrugged, not denying anything as he gave a smug smile. Cradling Lance’s upper body and head in his arms. Supporting the tan boy and keeping him still during the slightly bumpy flight.

“I never denied anything.” Keith’s hand traced the boys chest gently, playing with a beautiful blue feather piece in the tan boys hair. The feather was beautiful, like that of a Caribbean ocean. It was probably one of Lance’s own feathers. His wings must be so pretty… Keith enjoyed the soft texture of the clean hair and feathers. Until his eyes narrowed. As if he were contemplating something, until he froze. Wings going stiff.

“Shiro, Shiro, turn him over, turn him over! We’re laying him on his wings!” Shiro jolted at the realization, the bandages were covering his back, Shiro hadn’t even thought of it. Holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His wings were probably already injured. At this rate they were fucking up so bad they might have to put the boy into a healing pod. Shiro hastily lift the boy, gently moving the boy to lay on his stomach. Which caused an uncomfortable moan from the boy, Shiro winced when his hand sunk into the boy’s ribs. They stuck up. But there was a gap in the middle that gave way. Broken ribs. Shiro cursed, he knew the boy was bloodied up, but he’d walking and functioning fine. This was worse than he’d thought.

“Allura! Check Lance! Black! Turn off autopilot! We need to get to the castle stat! Keith, keep him steady. Smack him if he gets worse, he can’t be asleep with a low heart and breathing rate.” Shiro scrambled letting Allura take his place next to Lance as Shiro grabbed the pilot’s seat, grabbing the controls and urging Black to go faster. Allura took control of caring for Lance, which gave Shiro relief. Even if her and Keith were bickering again.

“I said hold him steady!”

“I’m trying to make sure he’s still breathing!”

“AND I’M TRYING TO GET OFF THESE BANDAGES TO CHECK THE DAMAGE!”

“AND STRIPPING HIM IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN HIM BREATHING??? What is that! Necrophilia?!”

“Keith just shut the quiznak up!” A low groan made the fight instantly lose fire as the two began to focus again. Keith was cursing, make Shiro guess he’d accidently hit a sore spot on Lance. He heard more hushed arguments, the ripping of bandages, and a gasp. Making Shiro curious and anxious. His heart hammering against his chest. The tan boy had to be okay. He had to be. No one that courageous and with that light in his eyes could be taken away.

“Shit! Shiro! Go as fast as you can!”

“I’ve never seen anything like this, what is this? Who? Why? How? Oh god, the wounds are old, how are they still bleeding?” Shiro was starting to feel fear and concern settling into the pit of his stomach, making it sink as he heard the frantic hushed whispers.

“Keith! Allura! What’s wrong?” Shiro peeked back, seeing Keith look over to him, his arms and hands were covered in blood, fresh and dried as he held the dirtied bandages. Horror and shock written on his face.

“His wings were ripped off.” Shiro choked, breathing catching in his throat. How? Why? When did that happen? He had been a fighter pilot! You can’t be wingless and a fighter pilot! But, Lance had been a custodian. Downgraded. Shiro’s fingers twitched when he thought over his first conversation with Lance.

/The boy gave a heartbreaking smile, his eyes weren’t on Shiro, rather looking at a homemade jewelry stand with different trinkets and accessories. They looked homemade, Shiro guessed they were important as the boy almost looked ready to either cry or kill someone.

Justice against a commander and something that couldn’t be replaced. Little feather themed jewelry, all the feathers the same color and pattern. Shiro felt a murderous rage build up like an angry vice inside of him.

His commander had ripped off his wings.

He was abused and trapped by a higher up that had taken everything away from him, that’s why he wasn’t afraid to rebel or to die for treason. He’d already lost everything. Wingless were treated like scum if they weren’t from rich families. Losing your wings mid-life was also mythed to be a damnation. Most who lost them were never the same. Most without proper supervision and care died within two months. Suicide or other health reasons. The body killing itself with grief or strain.

Lance had nothing left in his eyes. His rebellion to helping them. That was how he was going to die. Shiro gritted his teeth and urged Black to go even faster. The Black lion listened going fast, until something made the lion freeze for just a moment, until Black was speeding through the void at break neck speed. Faster than Shiro had ever seen before. It made Shiro even more wary.

“Black? Black! What’s wrong? Is someone chasing us?” Black gave one purr of reassurance, assuring Shiro that their was no outside force driving her to go faster. Rather it was her lioness pride forcing her along. One of the lions was in distress. Shiro tried to ask which one, immediately fearing the worse for one of his team members, until Black shut him out. Telling him she was going to help. To focus on helping the cub in his care.

Shiro nodded, eyes narrowing as he refocused. Black was right. Lance was the focus here. They needed to get him into a healing pod. And stat. Though, the amount that the healing pod could help with such extensive injuries was questionable at best. Shiro knew the best thing, even if the healing pod would not work fully, was to be there for Lance.

He didn’t want the boy to suffer any more than he already had.

They were close to the castle when Shiro and Keith switched under Allura’s instruction. Shiro could carry Lance much easier than Keith due to the size differences between the boys, meanwhile Keith would get Black into the hangar. Though, what happened once they were in the hangar came as a surprise to them. Well, not really what happened, but who greeted them there.

It was the Blue lion in her organic form. Frantically pacing and agitated while the other lions could do nothing to soothe her. It surprised Shiro, as the Blue lion had no pilot to watch over, rather she was alone until they found her match. And usually she was quite calm, lazing around and trying to be helpful to the other paladins. Now however, it was like she was a different feline. Shiro shook off the confusion, letting Allura deal with the distressed lion while he focused getting Lance to the med bay. Though it seemed Blue wasn’t having being ignored as she followed Shiro close behind. Almost beating Keith in her haste to stay at Shiro’s side. Keith tried to communicate with her as they rushed past the different halls.

“Blue, you’re acting like a madman, calm down! What’s wrong with you?” The Blue lion only gave a lion whine and a growl. Nipping harmlessly, but warningly, at Keith’s fingers when he tried to grab her and hold her back. The message was clear.

‘I’m doing what I want and you just have to get out of my way.’ Keith frowned but chose to ignore the stubborn lion as they burst into the med bay, Coran was already rushing around to check Lance and put him into the pod. It all happened so quick that all Shiro could do was stare at the amount of blood on his armor and the strange thought that he knew which lion Black was concerned about as Black ran up in her organic form. Trying to comfort the distraught Blue lion as Allura followed close behind. Staring puzzled at the Blue lion, until she tried to step forward toward Lance’s pod and Blue retaliated with a long and low growl. Surprise turning to understanding as the Black lion didn’t reprimand Blue for her outburst. Allura looked at the pod with surprise.

“I know why the lions were insisting we go to that ship more than once.” Allura blinked, as if studying Lance more closely than before. “We’ve found Blue’s paladin.” Shiro turned to look at Lance in awe. He was Blue’s paladin? Shiro bit his lip. That would explain a few things. Why they never found him on earth. Why the lions were hellbent on attacking that ship. More so after their first raid. Why Blue was so agitated and angry. She knew her paladin was suffering, and hadn’t been able to reach out to him to help him. She’d probably felt the moment his wings had been ripped off. Shiro could sympathize. She was probably furious and extremely protective of her paladin. Not wanting anymore harm to come to him.

Shiro could agree.

Maybe the Blue lion and him could work out their differences to pull off a homicide. Keith would probably be joining on how hard his boyfriend was clenching his fist. Anger and fire flickering in his eyes dangerous. Shiro could also understand. Lance had just helped Shiro and saved Keith’s ass. Shiro grimaced as he realized something.

“Coran, how much will the healing pod help the…” Coran frowned, shaking his head.

“It will close the wound and get rid of the nerve endings. Lance won’t feel the pain anymore, but his wings can’t be repaired. If we had them, and the wound was fresh maybe they could have healed back together, but its too late. Lance’s body has already closed off the joints. There’s nothing to be done.” Shiro couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped his lips at the thought. He couldn’t imagine even a minute without his wings, they were how he expressed emotion, bring comfort, fly. They were his freedom in this enslaved universe. And Lance’s were ripped from him at such a young age.

He would never fly again. Shiro shook his head. He couldn’t think like that, Lance is the one in need here. Shiro had to stay strong for him. Finding out he was a paladin of Voltron was going to be a shock and something hard to swallow. But Lance would make it through, they’d support him through it.

He would survive.

PART TWO IS OUT PART TWO IS OUT

#langst #why do i do this shit #suicidal thoughts #violence #wingfic #wingless #voltron #lance #shklance #more of that in the next part tho #starling archive

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