Sam slowly lowered his fork, very expensive cake still on it. They were in Zemo’s crazy nice house on a beautiful street in Warsaw, they’d been there for 3 days at this point, waiting for more information on the Flag Smashers next move. He looked at Bucky, who was eating his own piece of cake and didn’t seem to be having the existential crisis that Sam was having.
Because Sam was starting to realize that Zemo was their sugar daddy. This was the 5th stop they’d had with him, from Madripoor to Warsaw with some other European cities in between. Stops with nice hotel suites and new clothes, with fine dining and the best wine. How had he just realized? They had been doing this for almost 3 weeks now.
“Is the cake not good Samuel?” Zemo looked like he was going to wave over the private chef . Holy shit Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were sugar babies.
“It’s fine, it’s good,” Sam wasn’t sure how to address what he was processing, so he chose to ignore it until he was alone and could unpack it fully. Plus, the cake was good and it was already on the table. He took another bite, and yep, it was a great cake.
That seemed to satisfy Zemo and he turned back to reading whatever he was reading on his iPad. Bucky gave Sam a small smile as he finished his own slice. Bucky seemed good, considering the whole being around Zemo and having to occasionally play the Winter Soldier when it fit their covers.
It had been an exceptionally long day of chasing down leads and avoiding gunfire, so no one questioned Sam when he said he was going to turn in a little early. Sam took a hot and fast shower before he let himself start the process of processing the sugar daddy of it all.
When had it started? Madripoor? Maybe even before that. Maybe it was the second they had stepped onto Zemo’s jet. He had dressed them in Madripoor, at least for the first meeting. He provided all of their accommodations on the road. He bribed the cops. He bought Sam some really nice new sunglasses.
He couldn’t handle sitting in his room alone thinking about it, so Sam did the only logical thing to do in this kind of situation. He went to bother the guy he was in this situation with. It wasn’t just Sam who had acquired a mass murderer for a sugar daddy. Oh no, it was him and Bucky and honestly, this was kind of Bucky’s fault.
Not that Sam was blameless. He had agreed to go along with it. He tended to take these kind of insane risks where Bucky was concerned. It had started as a thing he was doing for Steve and ended as a thing he was doing for another lost soldier like himself. And sure, fine, maybe somewhere along the way he had fallen a little bit for Bucky. That wasn’t the point of going to his room tonight. He was going there to ask if he had any idea that Zemo was their sugar daddy.
“Buck,” Sam knocked on Bucky’s door, he waited for Bucky to respond before opening the door. He slipped in and shut it quietly, “We’ve got to talk."
“About what?” Bucky looked tired, like he had been maybe about to fall asleep. Sam felt a little bad about it, “Right now?”
“Yeah,” Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, “I think Zemo is our sugar daddy.”
“Sugar daddy,” Sam sighed, “You don’t know what a sugar daddy is, do you?”
“No and I don’t think I want to.”
“Too bad, because we have one now so you have to know what it is,” He shifted so he was more on the bed, “A sugar daddy is someone who buys you lots of stuff and gives you money, usually in exchange for like, sex or going on dates.”
“Are you fucking Zemo?” Bucky asked Sam, deadpan as all hell.
“Did you think I was fucking Zemo,” Bucky sounded horrified, “Because while I don’t mind dick, Zemo’s dick would be terrible.”
“No! I didn’t think you were fucking Zemo!”
“Then he’s not a sugar daddy,” Bucky said, like that solved it.
“Buck, he definitely is,” Sam kicked his feet up onto the bed, “He jets us around the globe, pays for everything, dresses us, takes us to clubs to be seen with us, and he literally handed you $200 today to ‘buy yourself something pretty’.”
“He gave you $200 too!”
“Yeah, he’s our sugar daddy. Both of us.”
“Most of the stuff you listed is to stop super soldiers because Zemo hates them,” Bucky reminded Sam.
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t our sugar daddy,” Sam huffed. “Can’t believe I’ve got a supervillain as a sugar daddy.”
“Super Villain is a little extreme, he doesn’t wear a costume.”
“That isn’t a requirement of being a supervillain,” Sam muttered, “Whatever, we need to get this mission over with so we can return him to prison and I can stop feeling mildly dirty every time he’s in the same room as me.”
“I’d like to be clear that I will not be fucking Zemo,” Bucky rolled over and tucked his arm under the pillow, “So if he wants one of us to do that, we’ll have to drug him and return him to jail.”
“I’m good with that,” Sam knew he should stand up, but he was a bone deep kind of tired and Bucky’s bed wasn’t as soft as the bed in his room.
“You gonna stay here all night?”
It didn’t sound like Bucky was asking him to leave and that made Sam bold, “Yeah.”
“Fine, but you better not steal my blankets.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sam shifted and moved up the bed until he could put his head on the other pillow, “Just to warn you, I’m a snuggler.”
“Of course you are,” It was clear Bucky was biting back a smile, “Shut up so I can sleep already.”
Sam did shut up, mostly because he was tired too. He was excited for the day when he could sleep in his own bed again, with Bucky maybe, and Zemo was back in prison so he wouldn’t have to feel weird about the gifts and shit. That part was a little nice though, he had to admit. The last time he had hung around with a rich dude Tony Stark had bought him some nice wings. He preferred the Tony Stark kind of rich guy if he had to pick. Taking stuff from Tony hadn’t made him feel dirty.