The 4 months since becoming Captain America hadn't been easy on Sam Wilson. He'd been in demand across the country on a promotion tour and having Bucky tag along had been his only reprieve at times. Bucky was the only person he could truly switch off around while they were away since Torres was busy and unable to come.

The two of them had grown closer since the days of Bucky ignoring his texts and the forced couple's counselling session that made them get over their issues and actually work together. They'd shared moments together, in private when they thought nobody had been watching. In the age of camera phones and CCTV, however, there was always someone watching. Sam's sister, his nephews, their family and friends had all seen the two of them at the celebratory cook-out that had been thrown when Sam had first taken the mantle of Cap.

Though, as Sam had expected, outside of his hometown, it hadn't been all rainbows and sunshine with people rolling out the red carpet since the party. There had been protests, people chanting "not my Captain" in the streets or outside of venues while on tour. Even though he had been expecting some backlash, seeing it in person had taken a toll on him. It hadn't helped that Walker was still around, turning up uninvited to missions and sometimes almost screwing them up. Sam didn't know what his problem was, or where he got his new suit, but he was starting to get on Sam's nerves.

Sam wanted to get back to doing what he did best, protecting people, trying to make the world a better place. Which is how he and Bucky ended up on a mission detaining some traffickers.

What they were trafficking had been unknown until Sam heard Bucky swear over the comms after opening a container where the victims were being held for transportation.

"What is it?" Sam demanded as he ducked and weaved in the air, drawing gunfire away from Bucky.

"It's trafficking alright, but not human." Bucky filled him in, disbelief in his voice.

"Then what is it?"

"Kids. Alien kids," Bucky said quietly as the young faces looked at him in terror.

"Alien kids? Please tell me you're shitting me?"

"I wish I was, but I'm not."

Bucky waited for a response, but all he heard was a hushed curse followed by long dragging moments of silence.

"Sam? Sam are you there?"

"I'm here, the guy who was shooting at me is down, Redwing is on the other one, I'm coming in."

Bucky heard the hum of the wings propelling Sam towards him into a slightly harder than normal landing. The rest of the mission went somewhat smoothly, and Bucky got word that the home world of the kids was sending a ship to transport them home. He found it bizarre that even on distant worlds, things were so similar and yet so different. Kids still went missing while their loved ones worried about them and sometimes they were reunited for a happy ending.

Bucky liked to think he'd been working with Sam long enough to know when he was hiding something, or at least, he was attempting to hide something. His concern began when he'd heard Sam curse under his breath, during the mission. It only grew when Sam was avoiding his eye after the mission when he'd touched down and only deepened when Sam ducked out of his way when he went to clap him on the back and congratulate him. When Sam kept his flight suit on for the journey to DC Bucky shot him a questioning look which he ignored.

Bucky watched Sam closely through the debriefing, something was up with Sam and he had made it his personal mission to find out what. Sam was sitting unnaturally still through the meeting, wincing when he moved or was touched. After the meeting, Sam quickly made his excuses and went to the barracks, only confirming to Bucky that something was wrong. Sam made the excuse that it was too late for him to fly home, which they both knew was a lie, he'd gone home later than this, many times.

Which is why Bucky found himself stood outside of Sam's room with a liberated – definitely not stolen – med-kit in his hands.

He knocked insistently, not giving Sam the option of ignoring him.

Sam opened the door partway, clearly hiding something.

"What's up Bucky?" He asked, sounding tired.

"You're injured," Bucky stated, not in the mood for games.

"I not injured, I'm tired, just struggling to get to sleep is all," Sam lied.

"Great, me too, let's tire each other out?" Bucky suggested with a wink, strictly louder than necessary, but he knew it was the only way he'd be able to get Sam to let him in. Things between them had changed since they had first started working together, but a conversation about what they were had yet to take place. Bucky hadn't said anything because he was damned if his mouth was gonna take away one of the best things that had ever happened to him, and Sam? Well, Bucky wasn't sure why Sam was letting their… whatever it was go on for so long without addressing it.

He watched as Sam thought about letting him in for a moment, before stepping back and opening the door wider. So that's how we're going to play this, Bucky thought as he stepped passed Sam into the room.

Sam groaned inwardly when Bucky entered the room, why hadn't he said he wasn't interested? Oh, right, because then Bucky would know something was up. Maybe he could just blow him and send him on his way? God why was he such a dumbass when it came to Bucky? Well, he knew why. Of course he did. Hell, even his sister had asked him why he and Bucky weren't together based on how they behaved around each other. But to Sam, it wasn't that simple. Sure, he liked Bucky and sure, he was attracted to him, but that didn't mean Sam was about to put a label on what they had together.

He still felt the looks and the hate, months down the line as Captain America. He knew nothing was going to change that. But he was hesitant to make things even worse for himself by openly dating a guy. A black Cap? Enough people were on board with that. But black and gay? Sam was worried enough about his family's safety as it was, he was reluctant to do things that could put them in more danger, without thinking it through at least.

"So are we gonna do this or are you gonna stare at the wall out there all night?" Bucky asked, putting down the med-kit in his hand and stepping up behind Sam, bringing him out of his mind. Sam was proud of himself for managing not to flinch at the unexpected contact, but less proud of himself for what he did next. He closed the door and turned to lean against it, biting his lip to stop himself from moaning in pain as his injury came into contact with the solid mass.

"Something wrong?" Bucky asked.

"Nothing at all," Sam responded through gritted teeth, "You gonna get over here or are you just gonna stand and stare?" He challenged.

Suddenly, Bucky was in his space, his vibranium arm bracketed against the wall by Sam's head, his warm flesh hand cupping the back of Sam's neck as he leaned in to kiss him. Sam sighed against his lips then hissed into his mouth as he relaxed against the wall, sending a stab of pain from his wound.

"OK, stop," Sam groaned, putting his hand firmly against Bucky's hard chest. "I'm injured, all right? I admit it. One of those bastards managed to shoot me in one of the few places not protected by my wingsuit. Happy now?" Sam asked, bracing himself against the wall.

Bucky's face softened, "yes, now come over here and take your shirt off so I can take care of you," he said moving out of Sam's space and picking up the liberated med-kit. "You're bleeding," he nodded to the growing stain in Sam's shirt.

Sam cursed, "that is on you, I had it taken care of," he accused, though he still pulled his shirt begrudgingly over his head. He walked over to where Bucky was perched on the edge of the bunk and turned the desk chair so he could straddle it so Bucky could get to his back.

"Jesus, did you do this yourself?" Bucky asked, "these are a mess."

"Like you can do better?"

"Sam I could do better with my eyes closed. I won't, but I could. Did you get the bullet out?"

"It was lodged in the front of my suit, went straight through, miracle it didn't hit anything important." Sam muttered. "And yes, it was whole, no broken bits."

"You want it numbing?"

"Go for it," Sam mumbled into his arms.

Sam sat silently while Bucky worked on restitching his back wound.

"All right, let me take a look at the front one," Bucky said after a little under an hour after he started.

"The front one is fine," Sam protested.

"Then you won't mind me taking a look," Bucky retorted, raising an eyebrow. Sam turned and Bucky removed the bandage covering the wound. He hummed approvingly, "well you did a better job of this one, probably helped that you can see it."

Sam rolled his eyes and got up to find a clean shirt to wear for bed.

"You stayin' or leavin'?" Sam asked when Bucky had finished packing away the medical supplies but had not moved.

"Do you want me to stay?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Get in the bed Buck," he told him.

The bunk was a twin bed, not really made for two grown men, but they'd slept in worse. Sam laid facing Bucky, on his good side, next to the wall as Bucky argued he couldn't go for a run the next morning without risking his stitches again. Bucky closed his eyes, but Sam could tell he wasn't close to sleep yet. Sam laid there watching him, unable to settle.

"Something on your mind?" Bucky asked after a while, startling Sam.

"Just thinking about the mission. Walker didn't even interfere with this one and I still managed to make a mistake and get shot. Steve never made these kinds of mistakes, I'm starting to wonder again, if I was right to take up the mantle."

"Sam," Bucky groaned, turning onto his side in the narrow space, "you didn't make a mistake, some asshole got in a lucky shot. An' while we're at it, Steve wasn't perfect. He made mistakes, but it was the war and the government couldn't afford to have people doubting their number one guy. He gave the mantle to you because he trusted you to always try and do the right thing, even if sometimes it didn't work out. How do you think I got so good at stitching wounds? Steve was a mess in the early days." Sam raised a questioning eyebrow. "You know that scar on his ass?" Sam did know of the scar Bucky was referring to, there had been communal showers after missions and training when Sam first joined Steve. "He got shot on a mission, just like you did and because he was who he was, and he had the serum in him, he thought he'd just heal. That didn't go so well for him. I'm the idiot who had to get the bullet out and take care of it because we were in the field. Don't believe me? Have you ever noticed that in the early parades Steve is sitting in the car then suddenly he only stands? Can sit on an ass that's recovering from being shot."

Sam studied Bucky for a while, trying to determine whether he was telling the truth, or just trying to cheer him up.

"I'm serious," Bucky said. "Look, my point is, you're the best person for this job, because you're like Steve. When he took the serum, it was so he could try and help the war effort, not because he knew what it would do to him. You didn't take the serum, nor do you want to. You're not looking for power, you want to help and do the right thing. That's good Sam. Besides, getting shot doesn't mean you made a mistake, it means they got lucky. You shouldn't doubt yourself; you are Captain America. Though when you do, know I'll be there to put your doubts to rest. I believe in you Cap."

Sam smiled softly, "thanks Buck," he murmured. "Sorry I tried to hide that I was injured, that was pretty dumb," he conceded. "God, if Sarah were here, she'd have smacked me upside the head. Or worse."

"Well I won't tell her; your dumb secret is safe with me," Bucky assured him with a wink that still made Sam's stomach do flips. "Try and get some sleep, the boys are gonna be excited to have their uncle back after a few months."

"I hope you mean uncles, every time I call, they ask when me and 'Uncle Bucky' are coming home."

"They really said that?"

"Of course they did, the boys love it when you're around, Sarah loves it when you're around," Sam paused and went quiet, "I love it when you're around," he added softly.

"I love being around," Bucky replied, equally as soft. "Visiting you guys is like visiting my family, feels like visiting home."

"You know," Sam said before he could stop himself, "it doesn't have to be like that. The visiting part, it could be your home. Our home," he said, barely louder than a whisper.

"Our home," Bucky smiled, "I like the sound of that." Bucky's vibranium hand moved with a featherlight touch over Sam's side, weary of his injuries, up his body to cup the back of his neck, thumb stroking whatever skin it could reach.

"Good," Sam told him, "because so do I," he said, leaning forwards to kiss Bucky. Bucky felt Sam relax against him and kissed him back sweetly.

Bucky pulled back after a few minutes, "you should get some rest, the boys are gonna be excited when you tell them the news, you're gonna need your strength."

"I think you mean when we tell them the news," Sam countered. "But yes, looking like I got some sleep would be a good call. Sarah may even take it easy on me for being injured."

Bucky scoffed, "in your dreams maybe."

"Well better let me get there and find out," Sam countered.

"Sure, all right. Goodnight Sam."

Sam settled his head on the pillow, gazing at Bucky, "'Night Buck," he replied sleepily, finally drifting off.