tw for major injury by car accident and medical use of morphine

also bucky is dumb

It's not Bucky's fault. It really, truly isn't. All he was doing was making backing out of his driveway to go to work, just like he does every morning. And if his eyes happened to drift to the right, where there was this really hot jogger — well, he's only human, after all. And if he was paying maybe a little too much attention to the jogger and didn't notice that a car was speeding down his street, that's not on him at all. And if the car crashed into him, that's definitely not his fault.

He barely has a second to register the pain shooting up his left arm before he blacks out.

…

When Bucky wakes up, it takes his brain a moment to catch up. He registers he's in the hospital and there's a needle in his right arm and a dull throbbing pain in his other arm. The hospital is white, all over, and it's blinding, especially considering Bucky was passed out a second ago. He's wearing some sort of horrible hospital gown that's itching his legs, but he doesn't want to move. He's in pain.

He remembers getting hit with the other car, and that's probably why he's in the hospital. Fine, he thinks, except it takes him another moment to remember why he got hit in the first place, and he lets out an audible groan.

The fucking jogger. He's pathetic. Really, jogging should be kept to treadmills in the gym where innocent dumb gays like Bucky won't get distracted by hot joggers like Bucky did.

"Oh, you're awake," someone says, and Bucky shifts his body so that he can see the speaker. He didn't even realize anyone else was in the room.

And then he sees who spoke.

It's the jogger guy. The same one that distracted Bucky and got him in this situation in the first place. Since he's not dumbly watching him through his windshield, Bucky has a much better view now. It makes his heart speed up. The guy's eyes are brown, but they're soft, and kind, and Bucky wants to keep looking at them forever.

That's not exactly true, though, because he likes checking this guy out.

There's the hint of a smile on the guy's face, tentative possibly because Bucky's in a hospital bed because of him. Although the guy doesn't know that it's his fault. Bucky hopes. That'd be a little awkward for him.

The guy's dark skin is still glistening with some sweat from his jog and Bucky can see his cheekbones. He wants to press his fingers to them.

He's still wearing a gray sweater with the sleeves pushed up to show strong forearms and Bucky wants to hold his hand. Up close Bucky can see his legs better and they look really muscular, at least the part of his legs Bucky can see. He's wearing long shorts, unfortunately. Still, Bucky wants to touch them. Bucky wants to touch him.

Bucky, unfortunately, can't move.

"Gah," he says, or something equally eloquent. It's not like he was good at English when he was in school. When confronted with a hot guy, his vocabulary completely goes out of the window.

He makes a move to sit up, despite the left side of his body protesting every time he slightly moves. His vision goes white.

"You probably shouldn't move," Bucky hears, and for a second he's masked by pain and he deliriously thinks that the left side of his body is talking to him. He then quickly realizes that it's the jogger guy. That makes more sense. He blinks, and his vision clears, and he looks back at the jogger guy, who's standing now.

"I'm Sam, by the way," Sam says. He puts out a hand, and then awkwardly stuffs it in his pocket.

"Bucky," Bucky says, his voice cracking. Smooth. "I'm Bu— yeah," Bucky has no idea what to say and an awkward silence settles between them.

"I called the ambulance for you," Sam explains, "and then I rode in it and then the hospital assumed I was, like, with you, and so, yeah," he ends lamely. Bucky digests that the hospital thinks that Sam is with him. He also digests the fact that Sam didn't correct them. After a beat he brings his hand back out, this time holding a piece of paper. "This is for you. The guy who hit you told me to give it to you, his information. He said you can press charges, or send him your hospital bill, or whatever." Sam places the slip of paper on the table next to Bucky's bed.

"Thanks," Bucky croaks out to Sam. Sam gives him a little wave, and Bucky figures he's going to leave, but he sits back down on the bedside chair.

Bucky wonders if Sam has somewhere he needs to be, but he pushes that thought out of his mind. He's grateful for the company.

Especially from a cute jogger.