Comfort

Roommates

He couldn't look. The stench was overpowering.
'I'm gonna fucking kill him.' Repressing the urge to gag, James Barnes pinched the bin liner closed, holding it at arms length from his body. He fumbled to unlock the back door with his free hand. He heard the low click indicating that it was unlocked. With urgency, Bucky tossed the rotting trash into the general waste. Face contorted into a grimace, he hurried back inside, washing his hands clean and replacing the liner.

'Sam!' He yelled up the stairs, waiting with arms folded by the bottom. His roommate popped his head over the landing, peering down the stairwell.

'What's up tin man?' His teeth gleamed when he smiled, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

'I specifically asked you to empty the bin two days ago and you didn't. You also left an empty fucking carton in the fridge. Again.' Bucky sighed into his metal hand, rubbing his face.
'I was gone for three days dude. Three days.'

'You know it's a mistake to leave me unattended.' Sam reminded him. He pushed himself away from the railing and moved to gallop down the stairs.
'Plus, you love cleaning up after me.' He smirked. Bucky rolled his eyes.
'Speaking of which,' Sam added. 'I need your help moving my stuff in my room.'

'What are you planning?' Bucky asked warily.

'I'm redecorating!' The smaller of the two threw his hands in the air. He bit his lower lip and moved his closed firsts anticlockwise in a celebratory dance. Bucky sucked his cheeks in and shook his head.

'Unbelievable.' The older man mumbled. He left Sam to dance on his own at the bottom at the stairs, and made his way back to the kitchen. Washing up had piled up for the past few days and no one else was going to do it.

*****

Why do paints need names? Elephant's Breath, Three Legs, Dead Salmon, Nacho Cheese, Celebrity. Who named these? Bucky held a can of Flesh in one hand and a can of Avocado in the other, brows furrowed in thought. Sam called to him from the end of the aisle.

'I'm thinking Sea Breeze or Bahama Blue. Maybe an Ocean Blue for a deeper colour.' He mused. The majority of his furniture was oak or oak coloured. He wasn't sure what colour combinations worked.

'How about some kind of red or orange?' Bucky counter offered. 'Not like dark but kinda cool tones.'

Sam looked at him incredulously. 'Since when did you know about colour pairing?'

'I'm one hundred and six Sam,' He reminded the considerably younger man. 'I've redecorated.' This was a lie. He didn't want Sam's room to look shit if he chose the wrong colours so he looked up what would work well. Cool tones that match with the wood, contrasting tones that make it stand out, or bold colours like light reds and burnt orange.

'What do you suggest then?' Sam asked. Bucky placed the tins down and wandered to the middle of the aisle, scanning and analysing the colours. Through narrowed eyes he tracked down two possible options. With a triumphant "aha" he pulled them down and held them up to Sam.

Sam crossed his arms and read them out. 'Cherry Red and Fire.' His eyes lit up at the second option. 'I like the sound of that one.' He retrieved the can from Bucky's hand and gazed at it happily.
'Fire.' A small smile played on Bucky's lips. The best part of living with Sam was being able to make and see him happy. He had a cute smile. Placing the rejected tin back on the shelf, he strode to catch up with Sam.

At the till, Bucky fought Sam for who would pay for it. Sam fought for Bucky to pay for it while Bucky made the point that it was Sam's idea so it was his paint.
'But you pay for the majority of the rent and bills so it's more your house than mine.' Sam tried to explain but Bucky shot him down.