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swiftraxThe Falcon and The Winter Soldier - Excess Baggage - Pilot!Sam/ATC!Bucky AU
500 Words
Rated PG
Sam Wilson / Bucky Barnes
Unprofessional Rivalry
MiniFic written for Yavannie while we waited for Glittercake's MTH Auction fic to arrive.
Sam never usually has to go through the baggage claim with the paying customers, and for good reason—it’s a goddamn free-for-all where inevitably some poor old dear will grab his bag and insist it's hers, cause a scene and make him wish he’d chosen another profession.
Granted, that only happened one time, but Sam isn’t in a hurry for a repeat. Unless they start posting “Pilots Wanted” ads for Antarctica, he’s going to have to keep dealing with the general public some of the time.
The listless herd of passengers clustered around the carousel should just be grateful that he managed to avoid a nasty storm cell so they could enjoy their dinner service without accidentally stabbing themselves in the face with a fork.
Sarah had asked him to bring down some of his winter gear to loan to her husband for a job up in North Dakota, so he’d used his pilots privilege enough to get the bag on his plane even though they wouldn’t let him carry it on. But an unexpected layover has meant he has to collect the damn thing and take it with him to the hotel until tomorrow.
Sam’s feeling a little punchy now—there has been a bit of tension thrumming under his skin ever since he entered New York airspace, and he would like to blame it on the weather, but the truth is that his source of irritation has a smooth, sexy voice, too slick for his own good.
Bucky Barnes has got to be the cockiest damn ATC Sam has ever encountered, and he doesn’t know if he wants to strangle the guy or figure out if there is another, more interesting way to shut him up. Even Torres has caught on to the weird energy between them, and Sam knows his co-pilot is too good of a kid to ever bring it up. After this evening’s performance, however, Sam knows he is so far from playing it cool that he may as well be sitting on the surface of the sun.
So there had been a little name calling. Sam might possibly have suggested Barnes is a control freak, which wasn’t an unreasonable assessment. And in return, Barnes might have suggested that Sam liked someone to try and boss him around so he could indulge his issues with authority—which, also not entirely untrue.
So when Sam’s bag is the first and only one to come out on the carousel, and there is a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs dangling from the side, Sam’s face goes so hot he might actually combust. With rage, of course, Sam tells himself with a strongly worded memo to his dick.
They’ve gone past the point of no return.
It’s on.
500 Words
Rated PG
Sam Wilson / Bucky Barnes
Unprofessional Rivalry
MiniFic written for Yavannie while we waited for Glittercake's MTH Auction fic to arrive.
Sam never usually has to go through the baggage claim with the paying customers, and for good reason—it’s a goddamn free-for-all where inevitably some poor old dear will grab his bag and insist it's hers, cause a scene and make him wish he’d chosen another profession.
Granted, that only happened one time, but Sam isn’t in a hurry for a repeat. Unless they start posting “Pilots Wanted” ads for Antarctica, he’s going to have to keep dealing with the general public some of the time.
The listless herd of passengers clustered around the carousel should just be grateful that he managed to avoid a nasty storm cell so they could enjoy their dinner service without accidentally stabbing themselves in the face with a fork.
Sarah had asked him to bring down some of his winter gear to loan to her husband for a job up in North Dakota, so he’d used his pilots privilege enough to get the bag on his plane even though they wouldn’t let him carry it on. But an unexpected layover has meant he has to collect the damn thing and take it with him to the hotel until tomorrow.
Sam’s feeling a little punchy now—there has been a bit of tension thrumming under his skin ever since he entered New York airspace, and he would like to blame it on the weather, but the truth is that his source of irritation has a smooth, sexy voice, too slick for his own good.
Bucky Barnes has got to be the cockiest damn ATC Sam has ever encountered, and he doesn’t know if he wants to strangle the guy or figure out if there is another, more interesting way to shut him up. Even Torres has caught on to the weird energy between them, and Sam knows his co-pilot is too good of a kid to ever bring it up. After this evening’s performance, however, Sam knows he is so far from playing it cool that he may as well be sitting on the surface of the sun.
So there had been a little name calling. Sam might possibly have suggested Barnes is a control freak, which wasn’t an unreasonable assessment. And in return, Barnes might have suggested that Sam liked someone to try and boss him around so he could indulge his issues with authority—which, also not entirely untrue.
So when Sam’s bag is the first and only one to come out on the carousel, and there is a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs dangling from the side, Sam’s face goes so hot he might actually combust. With rage, of course, Sam tells himself with a strongly worded memo to his dick.
They’ve gone past the point of no return.
It’s on.
