fic: encouragement [nc-17, sam/bucky]
encouragement
pairing: sam wilson/bucky barnes
fandom: marvel now
summary: sam offers bucky some much needed encouragement.
prompt: redemption
word count: 500
notes: for comicdrabbles. I may just expand this to something longer and put it in ao3
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Bucky, in order to keep himself sane and keep the ghosts at bay, has to remind himself everyday he wakes up that for all it’s worth, every damn thing he does will add up to something, anything. He has to remember that for every sleeper terrorist agent he finds and takes out, it’s preventing further death and he’s one step closer to finally stepping out of his own darkness. To being the man that truly did deserve forgiveness from Steve.
At least, that’s what he likes to think. He’s not even sure if he’s marring a mark and it's disheartening to know that he's not having much of an impact.
He convinces himself that if he doesn’t believe it, what good does it do to keep on going? At least his friends believe that. Sam in particular knows he’s doing some good.
Like tonight for example. Stoping a rogue terrorist cell from attacking a FBI headquarters.
“Kid, you’re gonna have to trust yourself a little better than that,” he says, pinning Bucky’s wrists on both sides of him, careful to avoid dark bruises on Bucky’s side. Sam’s hovering over him, his red and white suit on the floor of the bedroom not far from Bucky’s own clothes. Bucky curls his lips into a sheepish grin.
“I do. Sorta,” Bucky angles his head to allow Sam more access to his neck. “But...”
“But what?” Sam questions, his lips barely touching the hollow of his collarbone. Bucky swallows.
“Is it enough?” he asks, more to himself than Sam. There must be something odd in his voice because Sam stops his assault on his neck and faces him.
“Course it is,” His brows furrow. “Did someone say something to you?”
Bucky chuckles lightly. “Nah. I’m overthinking things.”
Sam must know better, however. He searches his eyes for confirmation on something. “Are you sure?”
Wasn’t that the question of the day? One minute, he’s sure without a shred of doubt, but then the next minute, the feeling of inadequacy rears its ugly head. That no matter what he does, no matter how much he fights, it will never be enough. It certainly wasn’t enough to help Natasha.
Sam sees the lingering guilt and kisses him, softly. Bucky eagerly returns it and all he feels is the heat in his crotch and how he’d like to do something about it (lots of things actually). But Sam breaks the lip contact to say, with finality, “You’re doing your best.”
Hard to argue with someone who can kiss like that. Bucky manages, however. “My best doesn’t matter if the people I care about still get hurt because of me.”
“It does,” Sam replies, firmly. “Atonement isn’t exactly supposed to be easy, but don’t break your back over it. You were brainwashed.”
Bucky snorts. “Brainwashing hardly excuses everything.”
“You know, I was partners with a certain guilt-ridden man for years. I know how to deal with your type.”
Sam had a few ideas to back the claim.