When he woke up the next morning he almost had a heart attack.

Sam's chest was pressed up against his and there was a content look on his face. Bucky stayed where he was, accepting it as his new fate, staring at the bland grey covers which were enveloping him in them.

"Mornin' Buck," Sam mumbled, nestling into his chest. Again, Bucky froze, his brain short-circuiting before putting an arm around Sam's waist.

Bucky nodded as Sam kissed him on the cheek. "M-morning, Sam," he stammered, all of this sounding so, so wrong to him. "Did you, uh, have a good sleep?"

He bit his lip quickly as his heart started racing and Sam nodded sleepily. "Yeah, baby," he whispered. "Did you?"

Hmm, I don't know. Kind of hard to sleep, maybe-especially because I've been freaking out since we've got here because we're apparently married!

He settled for a "Yes."

Sam hummed pleasantly, and shifted in the bed, curling up to Bucky. Again, he stiffened up. He still forced himself to relax. "That's good," Sam mumbled, his breath tingling on Bucky's bare throat. He gently rested his hand on Bucky's chest, resting his head in the crook of his not-husband's neck.

This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong! The words reverberated around his head. Oh god, it had just hit him. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wro-

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in, calming down his racing heart.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

His head lolled to the side where Sam was basically attached to him and he couldn't help the small smile that crawled onto his face.

<><><><>

Sam didn't leave him alone for a single second of the day.

His not-husband clung onto him like a koala, meaning Bucky was all stiff and tense from the weird affection.

The only time Sam let him go was when he told him he needed to go to the toilet, and for the second time that... week... he was faced with the shock of his life. It shouldn't have been that bad though. All that happened was his hair wasn't all long and greasy – it was like it was in the 1940s.

It still didn't get him to shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

He convinced Sam later that day to take a walk with him around the town, which, while Bucky hated to admit, was quite a nice place He was still puzzled as to why it looked like it was in the 1950s. As far as he knew they hadn't time travelled.

Bucky's hand was intertwined with Sam's, the other man rubbing his knuckles.

No one, and Bucky meant no one, had treated him like that – as if he were someone special in the world. He knew he wasn't.

They both walked through the park, while passing over a stone pathway which was curving around a small lake in the centre of Westview. Residents of the town were all around the park, doing their own thing to enjoy the bright, sunny weather.

Sam dragged Bucky over to a stall where an older man with an older woman were selling ice cream. The two woman in front of them took their ice creams, flashing a bright smile at Sam and Bucky.

Sam smiled back and tugged Bucky's forward. Why was he so clingy today? "Hello, dears," the woman greeted. "What can we do you for?"

"One vanilla ice cream for me," Sam said, glancing over at Bucky who peered at the menu.

He really was not in the mood to have an ice cream. He just wanted to get out of here. But the way Sam was smiling at him... it made his throat tighten and he blinked at the menu. "Um, I'll, uh, have a chocolate ice cream, thanks," he mumbled. "Thanks," he added, and inwardly facepalmed cause he had just said that.

Sam reassured him with a small smile, and they accepted their ice creams before thanking the couple and walking off with Bucky.

"Weren't we supposed to pay?" Bucky wondered, frowning in confusion. They had just walked off with a 'Thank you' without giving them any money.

"What are you talking about, silly?" Sam asked in a teasing voice, pecking Bucky on the cheek before beginning to eat his ice cream.

Bucky's steps faltered. "I mean we should pay," he said, tone much more forceful than he originally intended. "Why did we just walk off without giving them any money?"

The ice cream in his hand stayed forgotten as Sam stopped in his steps, pausing to look at Bucky.

His brown eyes were wide, and his mouth was open slightly. "What do you mean?"

Growing agitated, Bucky huffed, clenching his fists. It had only been two days here, but he had had enough. "You know what I mean, Wilson, and you better stop fucking around with me. Whatever this-this joke is you have to stop it. It isn't funny."

Sam licked his lips, his eyes locked with Bucky's.

"Baby-" he tried weakly, so unlike himself, but Bucky wasn't having it.

"Don't call me that!" he exclaimed loudly, and was sure some heads had turned. "Sam, you better explain to me what the hell is-" Something bright flashed in front of his eyes and before he knew it, he was sitting on a park bench in front of the water.

His mind was foggy, and he noticed Sam's head resting on his shoulder.

The anger building up in him earlier had completely vanished. The small lake in front of them was peaceful, and under the setting sun, Bucky could see him and Sam's reflection in it.

"Do you want to go back home, Buck?" Sam asked, his voice penetrating the silence and making Bucky flinch.

He nodded, and Sam slowly got up, Bucky following his lead. The two men walked back home underneath the sun, and if this whole place felt so forced and unnatural it would've given off a little bit of a romantic vibe.

Ugh. What was wrong with him?

They went inside their house, Sam dragging him up to bed. "Ready for some fun?" he asked, smirking, and wiggling his eyes.

Bucky's throat felt tight when he realized what Sam meant and he swallowed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, no, Sam. I'm really tired."

He didn't miss the way Sam deflated slightly before smiling again. "Alright! 'Night sweetheart, I sure am exhausted!" Bucky tried not to cringe at the forced cheerfulness in his voice and nodded uneasily. Sam pecked him on the cheek before getting into bed.

"I'll watch some TV," he muttered to Sam who immediately jumped out of bed, following him to the doorframe. He was seriously acting like an overeager puppy. "Um, nevermind."

Bucky crawled into bed next to Sam, lying to his side and trying to close his eyes when Sam draped an arm over his waist.

"Okay, baby," Sam whispered into his ear. Bucky tried not to stiffen up this time and took control of his hurried breathing. "Goodnight."

He was considering not responding, just letting himself close his eyes and drift off to sleep without a second thought of Sam.

But as the minutes dragged on (or so it felt) his heart raced some more and he thought, screw it. "Goodnight, Sam," he whispered, which somewhat eased his conscience. The next time he closed his eyes, he was greeted with a blissful sleep.