Who Am I? » [Stucky]

14. Y'all Gonna Make Me Unleash The Falcon

Every day more without Bucky seemed to drag like no end, the hours seemed to pass so slowly and the seconds seemed to hang like stuck arms on a clock. Every waking moment was filled with constant thoughts of him, not always at the front of his mind, but always stirring the depths of his subconscious. The days were endless, especially when they had nothing to fill them and the siren call of the DVD boxsets next to his television was looking more inviting every time he walked past - but he was going to wait for Bucky.

Every time that he seemed to look at a clock it mercilessly taunted him, it's long arms indignantly refusing to budge.

He needed to occupy himself, or he'd go mad with cabin fever, if oxygen starvation didn't claim him first.

He lurched for the phone and dialled.

"Hello Captain little-ass!" The gleefull voice came bounding out of the speaker on Cap's mobile and nearly deafened him. He held the mobile away from his ear for a second, trying to avoid bursting his eardrum the best he could.

"Afternoon Falcon big-butt," Steve joked back.

"How are things going, man? It's been ages since I've heard from you!" Sam sounded like an excitable puppy yapping on the other end of the phone. Sam was so full of positive energy, it would be good to feed off those vibes.

"Good, good; how're things back in Washington?" Steve could already feel his spirits lifting.

"A little boring. I'm back to living a life without excitement." He was buzzing.

"By that you mean the lack of a threat to our lives?" Steve jabbed two fingers at his temple and probed the vein throbbing with irritation.

"Exactly, my brother!"

Steve snorted. "This's all still new to you, I get that... But it's honestly not as thrilling t'me." He traced the vein until it stopped aching.

"Yeah, but I'd been anticipating m the day the Captain America came to me asking for help. Stuff like that doesn't happen in real life." Sam admitted, breathtaken.

Sam naïveté amused Steve. He admired that carefree freedom, but wanted to admonish and tame the thrill seeking; it was a fatal attraction.

"If me calling you up isn't real life, then what does that make this?" Steve's lips curled into a lopsided smile.

"You tell me."

~

"When you said a mission I thought you mean shooty guns and jet packs, not running..." Sam whined, jogging alongside Steve, legs leaden as he tried to trump the super-soldier's pace.

"You're not complaining are you?" Steve bared down at him reticently, not breaking stride, not breaking a sweat and not out of breath.

"No... It's just..." Sam's forehead shone as the sunlight glanced off it, perspiration beading on his forehead.

"Just what?" Steve edged ahead of him, upping the pace and forcing Sam to catch up to prove his masculinity. "Can't keep up?" Steve smirked sourly, his smile promising what he was about to do.

"Steve..." Sam warned, a look of resignation in his eyes, his voice pitching up with exasperation and raspy with enervation.

Steve demonstrated the full extent of his athleticism, feet driving into the pavement like a blade runner. If it had been a cartoon a giant wave of dust would have kicked up behind Steve as he zipped ahead.

"Steve!" Sam growled, forcing his body to the limit, desperately trying to make his slightly less lengthy legs to move in a similar way, he couldn't beat his stride or his power, but nonetheless mirrored his resilience.