Hello!
I was looking through my WIP's and found this and after reading it again I've realized I'm never going to get around to writing more for it so I finished the last like six sentences and decided to post it xD
Just so y'all know: Steve is a major dick in this but only for the purpose of this story. I'm not making any comments or anything about his characterization.
aLSO, I don't think this is how morse code works? But let's pretend that for the purpose of this story that this is how it works lmao
Enjoy!
Originally when Sam had moved into his apartment he hadn't been expecting to stay long. He had just gotten home from a tour in Afghanistan and was looking for a place to crash while he settled into working at the local VA. Once he'd gotten used to working there his plan had been to find a better place.
He hadn't expected to fall in love with his apartment and the people in his building. His landlady was just the sweetest lady he'd ever met, and she had sorta adopted him as a grandson after he'd moved in. Her name was Lila and she made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies he'd ever tasted. Lila knew he was ex-military and took good care of him. Making him tea or dinner after a bad day at the VA or when the flashbacks got too intense. Sam had asked her one day why she was so good to him and she'd told him about her husband who had been a WWII vet. Sam had listened intently as Lila explained how her husband had struggled and that maybe if someone had been able to provide the help and support he so desperately needed, maybe he would still be alive.
Lila told him that he wasn't the only vet living in the building and that all tenants had been informed that multiple soldiers and veterans were living there so to please be sensitive to that fact. Sam had actually teared up a little bit at that because he just wasn't used to that level of accommodation and sensitivity.
It was after he met his neighbour, however, that he decided for sure that he was staying put.
Well, he hadn't actually met him but Sam felt like he had gotten to know him through their shared wall. Since the apartment building was a bit old, the walls weren't very thick. Sam could hear a lot of what his neighbours got up to and while usually, he tried to give them some semblance of privacy and not listen in, there was something about his neighbour on the left that intrigued him.
From the sound of the voice, Sam was pretty sure his neighbour was a guy and a pretty fucking strong one at that. Sam had worked out that the guy must have a punching bag in his apartment and on more than one occasion, Sam had heard him punch it so hard the bag flew off the hinges and hit the wall. Sam was always equal parts concerned and impressed when that happened.
More than once Sam had been tempted to go next door and introduce himself, maybe ask the guy what had him so upset he was punching that hard but had always ended up backing out. He didn't want to explain that he'd been listening to the other guy for months and that's how he knew all these little things about him. Like how he liked to sing along to Beyonce when he was in the shower if he'd had a good day, or sing along to sad alternative songs when he'd had a bad one. Like how he watched a few episodes of FRIENDS every night before he went to sleep or how he was a spectacularly bad cook if the clanging of pots and creative cursing was anything to go by.
Sam felt like a bit of a creep for listening in so much but couldn't seem to make himself stop. He had contemplated asking Lila about his neighbour, seeing that as his landlady, she would know more about the guy next door than he did, but he stopped himself because that felt like crossing a line.
So he continued to just listen. Every day he learned a little bit more about the mysterious man who lived next door to him and every day Sam felt himself falling just a bit harder.
He hadn't told anyone about his crush, though, because he felt quite ridiculous. I mean, who pines after a guy they'd never spoken to or seen?
Sam kept hoping that maybe one day he'd run into the mystery man in the hallway or the elevator and he'd get a chance to talk to him without being creepy but it never happened. So he resigned himself to pining from afar whilst going through his daily routine.
He'd wake up and make breakfast, snicker as the guy next door tried to do the same but ended up cursing like a sailor, shower and dress, go to therapy if he had an appointment that day, go to work, come home, listen to his neighbour as he settled in for a quiet night in, and then go to sleep. Rinse and repeat.
To most people Sam didn't live a very exciting life, nothing like his life before the military, but, to be perfectly honest, he preferred it this way. He had a small circle of close friends, most of whom also worked at the VA, who he really cared about. He had a nice apartment and a wonderful landlady whom he had dinner with once a week. He had a routine that made him feel safe and helped stabilize his life after the horrors of war. And he had a quiet, manageable little crush on his next-door neighbour.
Life was good.
All it took was one night for his little crush to become not quite as easily manageable.
Sam had been lounging on his couch, mindlessly flicking through TV channels as he searched for something interesting enough to keep his attention for a little while when he heard angry murmurs coming from the hallway. Sam muted the TV and sat up, cocking his head to the side as he tried to get a grasp on what was happening.
"I don't want to hear it, Steve!" A low, husky voice shouted, startling Sam as while he recognized the voice of his neighbour, he'd never heard him sound so angry, and he had certainly never heard him yell before.
Steve.
Sam knew who Steve was. He was his neighbour's boyfriend, or at least, he assumed he was his boyfriend. Sam had been surprised the first night he'd heard them come home, stumbling into the apartment and fucking quickly and loudly. Sam remembered the way he had remained frozen for a few minutes as he realized what was going on, torn between shock, jealousy, guilt, and arousal. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help but be affected by the beautiful sounds his neighbour was making. Sam had no trouble ignoring Steve's sounds, finding them irritating and actually somewhat fake. Not to mention, his attempt at dirty talk had just been embarrassing. Sam was sure his neighbour thought so too if the way he'd shut him up pretty quickly after he'd started talking was anything to go by.
But his neighbour's sounds…oh fuck. Sam had come embarrassingly quickly as he listened to those little whimpers and gasping moans, wishing it was him pulling them from him instead of Steve.
"Bucky, please, you're making too big a deal out of this," The other voice, Steve, said. Sam was brought back to the present by Steve's words and bristled at the condensation in the man's voice. Then he blinked as he realized he finally knew his neighbour's name.
Bucky.
Huh. Well, at least now Sam could put a name to the mystery guy he jerked off to in the middle of the night when he was desperate enough for a release that he could ignore how creepy he felt.
Sam refocused his attention on the argument his neighbour was having, pushing aside the part that felt guilty and like he was intruding. He'd deal with his guilt and shame later.
"What the fuck do you mean I'm making too big a deal outta this?!" Bucky shouted, anger and, more importantly, hurt leaking into his voice. "You fucking cheated on me, you prick!"
Sam gasped, immediately putting his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. After all, if he could hear Bucky, then Bucky could hear him.
Sam heard Steve sigh, and even though he couldn't see him, he was pretty sure the man was rolling his eyes.
"Bucky, you're acting like a child. It was just sex, I really don't see what the big deal is. It's not like we're exclusive anyway. Plus, you didn't care about the other times, so why are you getting so upset about it this time?" Steve said, sounding almost bored. Sam wanted to punch him.
"O-Other times? What are you talking about?" Sam heard Bucky say, his heartbreaking as he heard the slight waver in the man's voice.
Steve snorted, "You really think that yours is the only ass I've been fucking? Oh, honey, you're not that good. You were nothing more than a warm mouth and a tight hole. Though I am sorry you got the impression you were more than that."
Sam's mouth dropped open. Holy shit, this asshole needed to leave Bucky's apartment and he needed to have done it yesterday. He felt his heart squeeze uncomfortably as Bucky's breath hitched.
"What the fuck. Why are you doing this?" Bucky whispered, sounding broken.
Sam could hear the shrug in Steve's voice when he spoke again, "It's nothing personal, Bucky. It's just, well, you're kinda fucked up. With your nightmares and your arm, and all. You're not boyfriend material anymore, not since you came home. That's just how it is."
Sam's heart fucking shattered at the cold, cruel words that left Steve. Tears stung at his eyes as he listened to the pained whimper that left Bucky. No one should ever have such mindlessly cruel words hurled at him. Sam was honestly so tempted to go next door and beat the living shit out of Steve. Especially after he'd heard him mention Bucky's nightmares and his arm. Sam wasn't all that sure what he meant by the arm comment, but he had a suspicion and it made him even more angry at Steve.
Just as Sam was trying to figure out what he could say that wouldn't freak Bucky out when he crashed into his apartment, revealing he'd been listening to their conversation when he beat the daylights out of Steve, he heard Bucky scream at Steve to get out.
Sam was actually surprised that Steve had the gall to sound surprised, "What?! You're throwing me out?!"
"Of fucking course I am! You can't say that shit to me, you useless piece of shit! Get the fuck out of my apartment and never come back. Don't ever speak to me again. Now, get out!" Bucky yelled, making Sam feel proud that he was standing up for himself. He hoped to god that Bucky didn't actually believe what Steve had said.
"Fine! Fuck you. I did you a favour fucking you. No one else was gonna touch you with a ten-foot pole. You're damaged goods, Barnes and you always will be," Steve snarled cruelly, before leaving the apartment with a slam of the door.
Sam heard Bucky throw something at the door and heard it shatter. He held his breath as he waited for Bucky to throw more things but instead heard the man let out a sniffle. Tears burned insistently at Sam's eyes as he heard Bucky continue to sniffle until a broken sob left his lips.
Sam leaned his forehead against the wall they shared and stood there, feeling helpless, as he listened to the sobs that Bucky tried to muffle. Sam wanted to do something. He wanted to wrap Bucky in his arms and whisper that everything was going to be okay. After a few minutes, Sam heard the sobs decrease to sniffles again. Sam raised his fist, and gently tapped his knuckles against the wall, asking, Are you okay? in morse code.
Sam heard Bucky's sniffles pause and held his breath, waiting to see if his question would be answered. Hopefully, Bucky wouldn't report Sam to Lila complaining about a creepy neighbour asking him personal questions in morse code.
A few moments passed before Sam heard footsteps padding towards the wall, and seconds later, knuckles tapping out a quiet reply. Yes. I'm sorry, did you hear all that?
Sam let out the breath he had been holding. Don't apologize. Yes, I did. I'm sorry your boyfriend is such a fucking asshole.
Sam felt a grin tug at his lips as he heard a quiet giggle through the wall.
Ex-boyfriend. Was his reply.
Right. Sam tapped. Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything?
Sam bit his lip as Bucky paused before tapping, No, I'm okay. Thank you, though.
Anytime. Goodnight.
Sam waited for Bucky to tap his goodnight before he moved away from the wall. He got ready for bed in a daze but as he climbed into bed, he felt determination surge through him, he was going to introduce himself to Bucky tomorrow.
When Sam woke the next day, it was to the sound of gentle knocking at his door. He stretched lazily, taking a moment to mourn the loss of warmth from his sleep-warmed bed. He squinted a bit as gentle rays of sunlight filtered in through his blinds, casting a warm glow over his bedroom.
Sam shuffled to the door, rubbing his eye sleepily as he opened the door.
Sam's breath hitched as he took in the man standing in front of him. He was tall and well built. Long brown hair framed his face, brushing against strong shoulders and looking so soft that Sam just wanted to bury his fingers in it. The man was wearing sweatpants that sat deliciously low on his hips and a plain black long-sleeve shirt that hugged his arms in all the right places. Sam's eyes zeroed in on the dog tags that hung around the man's neck, reminding Sam of the gentle weight of his own tags resting against his chest.
Finally, Sam's eyes flicked up to the man's face, taking in the sharp cheekbones and thick lashes. Warm blue eyes stared at him in gentle amusement and a hint of shyness as Sam just continued to stare.
"Hi," The man said shyly, gnawing his bottom lip in a nervous gesture when Sam just continued to stare at him. Sam's eyes dropped down the guy's lips, bright red and puffy from biting them. Mentally Sam whined because this guy was literally the embodiment of his type.
"I, um, I know you said not to apologize but I wanted to come by and say sorry again for what you heard last night. I'm sure that's the last thing you wanted to hear on your day off," The man stammered out seeing as Sam still hadn't said anything, and flushed a dark red. "Can I uh, buy you coffee or something to make up for it?"
Sam blinked in shock because he knew that voice. This was his neighbour. Bucky, he remembered. This was the guy he'd been dreaming about since that first night he'd heard the man moving around his apartment singing along to Beyonce.
Sam was so fucked. Not only did this guy have a very sexy voice, but he was also completely fucking gorgeous. Like, so gorgeous that Sam was regretting opening the door without changing or otherwise making himself more presentable. Suddenly he was very aware that he was standing in front of his literal dream guy with nothing on but a pair of tight black boxers and socks with little birds on them.
Sam shook himself out of his thoughts when he noticed hesitance enter Bucky's eyes at his lack of response and continued staring.
"Sorry, I, uh, nah you got nothing to make up for," Sam stammered, rushing to clarify when he saw Bucky's face fall. "I mean I'd still love to get coffee with you! But you don't have to apologize for last night, seriously, it wasn't your fault."
"Oh," Bucky said relieved, "T-Thanks. So, um, you wanna get that coffee or…?"
Sam opened his mouth to reply when Bucky's eyes dropped down as he finally realized what the Sam was wearing. Which was to say, not much. Sam felt a sliver of heat rush through him at the way Bucky's eyes widened slightly and then darkened. However, when he noticed the little birds on Sam's socks, Bucky broke out in adorable giggles.
Sam blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, my Ma got me those before my last deployment. They're cute and, well, they're really fucking warm."
"That was sweet of her," Bucky murmured, looking up at Sam through his lashes. Sam found himself caught in Bucky's warm blue gaze, amusement still sparkling in his eyes.
"Yeah," Sam said dreamily, before shaking himself and clearing his throat. "So, yeah, let's go get coffee. Here, come in, I'll just take a few minutes to get changed."
"Sounds good," Bucky replied easily. "I'm Bucky by the way."
"Yeah, I know," Sam said before backtracking when he realized that sounded kinda creepy. "I mean, I heard your ex say your name last night but, um, nice to meet you. I'm Sam."
Bucky smiled at Sam's awkward fumbling, finding it endearing. "Sam," He rolled the name around on his tongue before nodding, "Well, it's nice to put a name to a voice."
"Wait, what?" Sam asked, pausing from where he had just been about to enter his bedroom to change. He looked back at Bucky and saw that his eyes had widened and his cheeks flushed.
"I'm sorry, that must have sounded really creepy," Bucky stammered, "It's just, I can hear you sometimes. The walls aren't very thick and, um, yeah, I'm really sorry. I can go? I didn't mean to freak you out. I swear I haven't been spying on you or anything!"
Sam cut him off before he could get even more worked up, "Hey, hey, it's okay! I was just confused, I'm not upset. I, uh, well, it would be hypocritical of me to be upset. I can, uh, I can hear you too."
Bucky let out a sigh of relief, "Oh, right, I forgot about that. I, uh, shit, I'm sorry, usually I'm not so awkward."
Sam laughed, "Don't worry. It's cute."
Bucky looked at Sam in surprise and shock, his blush even brighter than before. Sam just winked and slipped into his bedroom, leaving Bucky standing there staring at the space Sam had just occupied.
Sam dressed quickly, figuring that it was warm enough outside that he didn't need to wear a sweater. He chose a green henley and dark wash jeans that he knew made his ass look amazing. He tucked his dog tags underneath his shirt and laced up his boots. Then he grabbed his wallet, his keys, and a pair of sunglasses and left the bedroom.
He found Bucky standing awkwardly in the living room, holding a framed photograph of Sam and Natasha from a few months ago. She'd helped him settle into his apartment and insisted on taking a picture to commemorate the moment. She'd had it framed and he had sat it proudly on the side table next to his couch.
Bucky noticed Sam and gave him a grin, however, his shoulders were drooped and disappointment was clear in his stupidly pretty eyes, "This your girl?"
Sam snorted. "Nope. That's Natasha, my best friend. We took that after she helped me move in."
"She's pretty," Bucky noted, a hint of insecurity still lingering in his eyes as he placed the frame down where he had found it.
"Yeah, she is. Her girlfriend definitely thinks so if the sappy poems she waxes when she's drunk is anything to go on," Sam mentions casually, not missing the way Bucky relaxes at the mention of Natasha's girlfriend. "I swear, if I have to hear Peggy drunkenly cooing about Natasha's eyes, I'm never drinking with them again."
Bucky chuckled, relaxing further. "They sound like nice people."
"They are," Sam said fondly, "I'll have them over one day and you can meet them if you want?"
Bucky bit his lip and smiled, "I'd like that."
"So, you ready to go for that coffee?" Sam asked, smiling when Bucky seemed to remember that's what they were doing.
"Yeah, just let me go next door quickly and get my stuff," Bucky replied, looking down at his socked feet.
"Of course. You want me to wait here or…?" Sam asked hesitantly, he didn't want to assume that he was allowed to follow Bucky into his apartment, even though he couldn't quite squash his curiosity. He really wanted to know what the inside of Bucky's apartment looked like, and more important, Sam really wanted to get aquatinted with Bucky's bed.
"I, um, well, normally I'd say yes to you coming over but I kinda of trashed some stuff and haven't gotten around to cleaning it up yet. I was going to do that after we finished coffee," Bucky admitted sheepishly, ducking his head in embarrassment.
"That's okay," Sam replied easily, giving Bucky a look of understanding, making the other man relax. "You go, I'll wait here till you're ready."
"Okay," Bucky said, rushing out the door to grab his wallet, keys, and phone from next door.
Sam was only waiting for a few minutes before Bucky was back and Sam noticed he had changed, now wearing jeans, a lightweight hoodie, and he'd pulled his hair up into a bun. It was a good look on him.
"That was fast," Sam said, standing up to meet Bucky at the door.
"Yeah," Bucky replied, blushing. "What can I say, I'm excited."
Sam grinned, feeling his own cheeks warm at the look Bucky was giving him.
They walked out the door, Sam locking it behind him, and made their way out of the building. As Sam listened to Bucky laugh at something he'd said he couldn't help but feel like this was the start of something, something wonderful.
I hope you liked it!