Chapter Text
The night’s silence was interrupted in Sarah’s room with a low groan and a breathy sigh, soon followed by the sound of her shifting in her bed. Sarah was feeling hot, pensive, and all together restless. Agitated? Hmmm. She really couldn't decide what word best summarized her feelings in that moment, all she knew was that it was justified.
It was 1:43 am on a Sunday, Sarah should be currently sleeping, resting for her normal Sunday routine, doing everything in her power to set herself and the boys up for success for the upcoming week. Even knowing this fact, her body and her mind wouldn’t let her be great. Wandering thoughts to the body resting one floor below her on the living room couch- thoughts unrelenting.
James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes.
A frequent house guest these last few months. A man that has become a fixture in the Wilson household. Already dubbed “Uncle” by her boys. Already chummy with the guys on the dock. Already adored by the ladies in town.
Friendly, dependable, flirtatious, mysterious Bucky Barnes.
With all that taken into consideration, Sarah’s been doing her damndest to keep him squarely and tightly confined in his intended role of “Wilson family friend,” although, he doesn't make it easy for her, seeing as he likes to keep himself squarely and tightly in her personal space; whether she’s cooking, cleaning or just generally existing, he’s always a hair’s breadth away, his warm flesh and bone hand lightly placed on her elbow, ghosting her dark brown skin beneath his fingertips, asking if she needs anything from him, “Anything at all?”
She groans in frustration again thinking about the contact of his touch, and the contrast of their skin.
It must be a New York thing, his inability to understand boundaries, “Do they even know anything about personal space up there,” She chuckles to herself in the darkness.
Earlier in the evening, during dinner, she found herself seated across from him at the dining room table- a position she tries to avoid whenever possible. This time around, her eyes were preoccupied with his lips, committing to memory the movement of his jaw, his laugh, his every bite and every lick as he cleaned his plate of the meal she prepared for the family. Every so often, his calf would connect- skin to skin- with hers under the dinner table, his eyes catching hers in turn, displaying on his face a teasing and knowing smile, as he muttered a quiet “Sorry,” as he slowly dragged his strong legs back to his side of the table.
He was playing wicked games with her.
Well to be fair, Sarah isn’t really sure if he’s playing at anything at all. She has met men like Bucky before- women too; some individuals are just stimulating without even meaning to be. But she, as Sam’s sister, and he, as Sam’s friend, had to have had some sort of unspoken understanding that there should be nothing between them. At least in her mind.
If she were being honest with herself, she wasn’t much in the mindset, to “talk to”, date or entertain any man. It was her and her boys, it had been for the past few years, and no matter what, it always will be. As long as it took her to fortify herself from the loss of loved ones, she wasn't sure if she would ever be ready to bring any man into her life.
1:53 am.
Sarah reaches over and behind her night stand pulling out a sleek black case that housed her vibrator. A relatively new purchase. She’s owned it about as long as she’s known Bucky.
She scoffs at herself for even feeling the need to use it. Embarrassed perhaps, because her identity is now mother and widow- does sexual being even fit in there anywhere? Is she so repressed and love-starved that any slight attention and gentle touch from the man downstairs keeps her up at night?
“How many days has he been here this go ‘round?”
Five. This being the fifth night in which she’s had to put herself and her desires to sleep in this manner. Hot, and slow, and pensive.
Click. Buzzzzzz.
“I wonder when he’ll return home to New York again.”
Her hands dance, light touches down the smoothness of her skin. Lips pressed together to quiet herself- no moans, no whimpers- at least, that's her goal while she imagines herself writhing beneath the man asleep on top of her couch.
Buuuzzzzzz. “Mmm, oh fuuuck…” she whispers with a low groans and a breathy sigh that once again interrupts the night’s silence as she shifts in her bed, thoughts unrelenting about the man one floor below her.
2:10 am.
Click. Silence.
________________________________________________________
7:00 am
It began as a typical start to the day, all the boys in the house are bustling about, getting ready to be seated at the table for breakfast. Sam is in his typical spot,seated at what could be considered the head of the oval table. Bucky is usually on either side of the curve with at least one of the boys next to him- this morning it was Sarah’s youngest, AJ- with Cass seated in front of Bucky on the opposing side. Thank goodness.
Vibrant Good Mornings and good natured teasings hollered about as Sarah finishes placing the last of the spread on the table: bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs, a mixed fruit bowl, carafe of orange juice, and a pitcher of coffee assembled for the morning.
“Thank you, Mom” AJ and Cass sing in unison, in turn making Sarah’s heart sing as well.
Sam is next to chime in, “This all looks amazing, Sis, can’t wait to dig in, bu-”
“Same here! OUCH! What’d you hit me for?”
Sarah looks back to see a slight scowl on Bucky’s face as he cradles his right hand in his left- Sam’s own hand still hovering in the air with the metal spoon meant for serving the eggs, not for assaulting the appendages of household guests.
“As I was saying,” Sam cuts his eyes at Bucky, “But first we’ll say Grace,” he punctuates this with a neck roll directed at Bucky, causing Sarah and the boys to have a good laugh at Bucky’s expense.
After Grace and as everyone is working on filling their bellies, Bucky calls for Sarah’s attention.
She acknowledges him, but keeps her eyes on her plate in an effort to keep herself grounded.
“Hey, Sarah, I was wondering what you’ve been working on in the middle of the night lately”
Sarah looks up at him, confusion clear on her face, “I’m not sure what you mean James.” He perks up, having caught her full attention for the first time today, hearing her refer to his first name.
Bucky continues, “Well, I've noticed you been up late at night. Sorry, I don't mean to make this weird but,” he chuckles and taps his gold and black metal hand to his ear twice, “My hearing is pretty good- super some might say...”
He thinks he’s so witty
“...to me, it sounds like you've been tinkering with something upstairs. I know how you can be- restless and always working on something.” He smiles shyly at her, “I stay up pretty late too, so whatever you're working on, I can help you in the shop.”
“I’m still not sure what you mean?” She shakes her head softly, confusion still plain on her face. At this point, however, Sam's eyes are shifting between his sister and Bucky, completely ignoring the feast before him, on the edge of losing his appetite.
“Late at night, there's a buzzing in your room, I don’t know how to describe it, it sounds like... a work tool, I guess,” A look of horror flashes across Sarah’s face, “I can hear you and your cute, frustrated huffing- like when you're working on something laborious for the boat. I-”
Sam throws his fork on the table and swiftly stands up, “NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!”
Sarah’s mouth is agape. All of her breathing has ceased. She might pass out.
“Jesus Christ.”
Well, she can still at least take the Lord’s name in vain on this great Sunday.
“Ooooh, Mom! You can't say Jesus Christ’s name like that,” AJ chimes in.
“AJ! Cass! Put your shoes on now”
“But Uncle Sam, we’re still eating,” the boys whine in unison.
“Nuh uh. No. Now! Get your butts moving, we are going out to eat. And leaving these two” Sam’s hands shake about in the air, struggling to find a word for them, “these two HEATHENS here to clear up this foolishness.”
With that, three sets of feet start shuffling to head out the door, and three sets of mouth left griping about having to leave the breakfast table. The truck cranks up and Sam pulls out of the yard, leaving behind Sarah and Bucky still glued to the old, wood table.
His voice cracks, breaking the morning’s silence first, “What did I do? Did I say something? What’s going on?”
Sarah tilts her head up to take a quick glance at poor, sad, and confused Bucky Barnes, left wondering what he did to ruin breakfast.
She drops her head into her hands left feeling…
“Goodness what am I feeling?”