apparently the Still Not Funny deleted scene is about Bucky ‘bringing a treat to Sam's family gathering’, and after talking to @logicheartsoul about it, i obvs had to write something
Sam’d—very casually, if he’d say so himself—invited Bucky to the cookout. He’d been trying to relax into Bucky’s lone armchair, the TV on and playing something he’d never seen before.
Bucky, who had been sitting on the ground and leaning into the side of the chair, had froze, very minutely, then relaxed, asked what he should bring.
Sam had, very dryly, said, “Ice cream cake,” because Bucky’d tried to make them breakfast that morning and almost burned the eggs to a crisp. Sam was just being cautious, and yeah, okay, maybe also a little shit, but mostly cautious.
Bucky, the biggest little shit to have ever existed, took it personally, apparently, because here he was now, sunglasses on, wearing Sam’s Henley, driving Sam’s truck and joking with Sam’s nephews, carrying a lopsided ice cream cake that was very bravely fighting for its life in the heat of the afternoon.
Sam’s stupid, stupid heart did a stupid, stupid somersault.
He went on taking pictures and joking around and filling up his plate, feeling light and happy and on the edge of something wonderful, then Bucky was close, sunglasses hanging from the collar of his—Sam’s—Henley, his cheeks a bright red from the setting sun.
“Hey,” he said, voice light and so soft.
Sam gave him a flat look. “You’re not funny.”
Bucky’s smile went bigger, brighter, like he immediately knew what Sam was talking about.
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he said.
“You’re full of shit,” Sam said, “and, still not funny. You’re not funny.”
“I just couldn’t come empty-handed, Samuel, I have manners.”
“You brought an ice cream cake.”
“It was a no-brainer, honestly.”
Sam rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile, then he turned back to watch the gentle waves and the sky as it changed colors.
The music was dying down, the day slowing and easing into the evening. Bucky was still standing just a step behind him, and Sam could feel his eyes on him.
His heart skipped a little as Bucky knocked his knuckles against his shoulder.
“Come on,” he said, so soft once again.
And Sam turned, gave into the urge and wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him closer.
Bucky came easily, his warmth seeking into Sam’s alright sun-warmed body, until it was almost too much.
