A/N: words: 1621. i hate school. thats it- thats *long sigh* ANYWAY, enjoy!

It had been about 2 weeks since Sam got sick, and he had finally recovered about a week ago. He walked into the apartment with a few bags of groceries in each hand, and finds it empty. Bucky's not in the kitchen, nor the living room. Which is odd, that's where Sam always finds him. "Buck?" Sam called out, setting the bags down. An irrational twinge of fear shot through Sam's body when Bucky didn't respond.

Then, Sam heard the creak of the bathroom door. Bucky emerged wearing Sam's sweatshirt, holding clumps of hair in his hand, and his hair cut short, but really choppy. "Um, I did a dumb thing." Bucky said shyly, gesturing to his hands with a nod of his head. Sam chuckled softly. "I see that."

"Help?" it came out as a question, but Sam knew it was a request. "I am most definitely helping you clean up whatever you got going on." Sam agreed making his way towards the bathroom. Bucky would normally come up with a snarky comeback, but he really needed help fixing his hair. "Thank you." Bucky said, his tone genuine, because, again, his hair was a mess.

Once Sam got Bucky situated on their bed and got all the necessary hair care products, he started the process. "So why'd you cut it, anyway?" Sam questioned, brushing the knots out of Bucky's hair. Bucky sighed, and Sam could tell it was a little deeper than just disliking how his hair looked. "I- I didn't recognize who I saw. I also think its- its him. So, I cut it. Not well, obviously, but I felt like I had to." Bucky explained, a sad smile on his face. Sam had the same one and only responded with a kiss to Bucky's temple.

"You're not him."

"I know, I know." Bucky said, another sigh following it. "I just- I don't know." Sam nodded his head, setting down the hairbrush. "I know, Buck. I know what you mean." Sam said softly, grabbing the scissors from beside him. They stayed silent, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Sam did know what Bucky meant. He didn't want something that reminded him of when he was The Solider.

~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take long for Sam to finish, maybe 15 minutes. Sam cleans everything up, and brings out a mirror and hands it to Bucky. He ran a hand through the brunettes freshly cut hair, and smiled. He took a seat beside Bucky and rested his head on the taller man's shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. "What do ya think?" Sam asked, his breath tickling Bucky's neck. Bucky smiled, running a hand through it. He really loved it. It wasn't The Soldier, it wasn't whoever he was from the 40s, it was someone new. It was him. It was the Bucky that Sam knew, it was Jamie, it was Buckaroo. It was this new person who was lost in time, but found in Sam's arms.

"I love it. Thank you, Sammy." Bucky said, almost sounding breathless. Sam smiled against his skin. "Good. You look like Rapunzel at the end of Tangled" Sam mumbled, causing Bucky to laugh. He set the mirror down, still laughing. Sam grinned, and they both stayed like that, living in their own world. It was a good world.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, they made their way out to the living room, Sam cooking up dinner in their abnormally small kitchen, and Bucky reading at the counter. Sam has bought Bucky the Harry Potter series, and Bucky's currently on book 6. It's a whirlwind of emotions. Sam's favourite moment of watching his boyfriend read this series is him angrily yelling at Snape throughout the second and third book. Sam thought he caught him cursing Snape out in Russian a few times. It was probably more entertaining than reading them.

"What? No!" Sam heard Bucky yell from behind him, and turned around, a smirk on his face. "What happened?" Sam asked, leaning against the counter. "Oh you know nothing huge just Snape killing Dumbledore." he got progressively louder as he went on, and Sam grinned at the genuine exasperation and anger that his boyfriend had over this book. "Oh, yeah. Just wait until the next book." Sam told him, and Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. "Should I be worried?" Bucky questioned, and Sam nodded, going over to turn off the stove.

"Big time." he replied, plating the dinner of gumbo he had just made, setting one in front of Bucky. Bucky nodded in thanks, and put his bookmark in, setting The half-blood prince down. "So, how do you like Harry Potter?" Sam asked, head tilted a bit. Bucky nodded, taking a bite of his food. "It's good, it's interesting. They really don't want this kid to have a father figure, apparently." Sam chuckled, taking another bite of his food. "Favourite book?" Sam questioned.

"Order of the Phoenix, obviously." Bucky answered, and Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "Obviously? Hell nah, Prisoner of Azkaban."

Bucky's eyes went wide, shaking his head. "Sam, I love you, but I think we need to break up. If you're gonna say your favourite Harry Potter book is Prisoner of Azkaban, I think we should see other people." Bucky said in a playful tone, clearly joking. Sam rolled his eyes, catching Bucky's smirk. "What's not to like? It's an interesting book, changing the tone of playful 'hey look they're kids' to 'yeah there's a murderer on the loose and a werewolf as a teacher'. Not to mention it introduced dementors, Lupin, Sirius, Peter, and, not for nothing, but also time travel."

"Don't get me started on the time travel in that book." Bucky said between bites of his food. Sam shook his head, sighing in exasperation. "You're impossible. It made sense. It was a good book, you just like flashy things."

"No, that's not why it's not my favourite."

"Fine, why don't you like it?" Sam asked, and Bucky sighed. "I never said I didn't like it. It's just- it doesn't have enough things going on." Sam gaped at him. Out of everything he could've said, he said that. "Oh, I'm sorry, is the falsely accused murderer, werewolf teacher and time travel not enough for you?" Sam asked sarcastically. Bucky gave him his signature not the point look. Sam gave him an explain yourself look in return, and Bucky seemingly understood what he meant.

"This is really good, you haven't made it before, have you?" Bucky said, gesturing to his food with his fork, trying so hard to hide his smirk.

"I haven't made it, I was looking through- No, no, no, you can't change the subject on me that quickly." Sam interrupted himself once he caught on to what Bucky was doing. The idiot had a giant grin on his face, laughing loudly. "You can see through the lies of the Jedi, can you?" Bucky said with the same grin, and at that moment, Sam knew he was in love with him. Well, there's been a thousand moments, but each one makes it even clearer than the last. Sam loved him. He laughed loudly, making his way over to Bucky.

Bucky could listen to Sam laugh over and over again, and he'd never get tired of it. He would never get tired of how his eyes almost close, making his eyelashes brush against his cheeks, his smile wide, showing his gap tooth Bucky adores. He loves every part of Sam, but his laugh is one of his favourite. It's comforting, it's beautiful, it's Sam's. His eyes followed as Sam made his way over to him, and Bucky raised his eyebrow. "I love you." Sam mumbled, a grin still on his face. He brought up his hand up to cup Bucky's face. He pressed his lips to Bucky's, and couldn't help but smile.

When they broke apart, Bucky looked at him with flustered confusion. "What was that for?"

"You."

"I asked 'what' not 'who' but alright." Bucky quipped, and Sam chuckled. "Hm, too bad." Sam hummed. Bucky tilted his head slightly, a small smile on his face, it looked soft, inviting. "You're beautiful." Sam heard Bucky mutter, and Sam rolled his eyes, feeling a blush creep up his neck. Bucky chuckled softly, always expecting that reaction from Sam. He wasn't good at taking compliments.

~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, Bucky went back to reading, on the couch this time, lying on Sam's chest as a record played softly in the background. Sam was humming to the music quietly, as he watched Bucky's face relax like it always did when he was reading. His eyes were soft and focused, passing over every word. The tension in his jaw was gone, and it made him look a bit younger, a bit more like the pictures in the file Sam had all those years ago. His lips slightly parted as he focused on what he was reading.

Sam's eyes flashed over to the shield in the corner of the room, and the familiar feeling of anxiety and panic rushed through his body. He had pushed the thought of the shield from his mind. He just wanted to be sure he would make the right decision. And he needed someone to have his back. "Hey, Buck?" Sam said softly, and Bucky perked his head up from his book and looked at Sam. "Yeah?"

Sam took a deep breath, and he could tell that Bucky knew he was under stress, Bucky just didn't know why. "Whatever happens with the shield, you'll be there, right? You'll- you'll have my back, yeah?" Sam asked, and Bucky's face softened, closing his book. "Of course, Sammy, I promise, I always got your back."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Promises are easily broken.