[ When the dust settles, it takes shockingly long for them to get a moment. Battlefield reunions aren't all they're cracked up to be - too much chaos for meaningful moments. Perhaps it's for the best. Sam's still reeling from implications he barely understands. Went from an impossible battle to watching his fingers crumble to dust, to flying through a portal, heralding the arrival of reinforcements for Steve. Straight into another round against Thanos and his forces.
And afterwards...
Hours of clearing the battlefield. Wounds that needed patching up, and Sam's retained enough skill from being a battlefield medic as pararescue that he can't not help. There's debriefings, there's an immediate, dizzying new reality to contend with - being dead for 5 years, Tony's death, learning about Natasha who from Sam's perspective had JUST been on the battlefield, too, and they'd JUST spent two years living in each other's pockets on the run, Steve and Nat and him...
It takes hours. Sam's eyes scan over everyone regularly. Steve is always nearby, but they don't get a moment to themselves. Not until they're all carted off. Pepper pulls some strings, gets them situated in a hotel, those that don't need further medical treatment. Sam retreats, for a bit. When there is nothing and nobody he can directly help, he slips away to the room he got put in, needs to make a phone call.
Sarah falls apart on the other end of the line. And finally, it begins to hit Sam. Not just the words, but the reality that half the universe had died and was just gone for five whole entire years. Not just the universe. He did, specifically. It means he hasn't seen Sarah in two years, but she hasn't seen him in seven. It means she's grieved him for five years.
So has Steve, and that hits Sam like a gut punch, once the adrenaline finally falls out from under him. Two years on the run, they'd been circling this unspoken thing that has been brewing for a while. In hindsight, maybe they've always teetered on that edge - Natasha's knowing looks certainly implied so. Different, though, when you're friends and work side by side, to when you're on the run together, sharing tiny safe houses and shitty motel beds occasionally. Sam doesn't think he was alone in noticing the way they'd been inching towards something. Sliding one another glances that lingered like touches. It had felt like they were tentatively feeling out the edge of a maybe, but Sam wasn't sure if Steve wanted to, if Steve could, if Peggy rested in the same closed box for Steve as Riley did for Sam, if Steve would ever want to, or if theirs was going to be a beautiful maybe tucked alongside their friendship.
Sam's not a naive man, and yet he'd thought there'd be more time for him to give this thing, to see where it would fall. And then Thanos had...
Sam takes a long, hot shower, in the end. Needs to get the battlefield dust off of him. Needs to shut the world out and take a moment to grieve their losses, to find out how he feels about his own death, to calm himself so he'll be of use to anyone in the days to come. When he emerges from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, skin damp, the room isn't empty, and perhaps that shouldn't come as a surprise. Sam stays relaxed. For him, having Steve nearby 24/7 has become the norm, even though he knows Steve had five years to come to terms with Sam's absence. ]
Steve.
[ A gentle prompt. Steve's by the window, looking out over the city. Sam knows his friend is aware of Sam re-entering the room after his shower. Still, Sam steps a little closer, waits until Steve's back is no longer to him. It's been a long and brutal day, but tired aches fall away the moment their eyes meet. And finally... the chance to reunite, properly. ]
[ It's a good question. The universe is saved. Everyone is back. He should be thrilled that after five years it's all over and they're safe from Thanos forever. But the price of that sits heavily on Steve's shoulders and the work going forward, fixing everything, weighs on his mind. He should be out there working on fixing it.
But Sam's back. Sam's here and for the last five years Steve's looked for his friend time and time again only to find and empty spot next to him. A silence in his life where Sam once took up space and made noise and was there. He was there for years when Steve needed him and then he was gone.
Five years of nothing.
And he's back. Like nothing ever happened. Steve couldn't fully explain the urge he felt to just be in Sam's presence and know he's there but that's what he's felt since Sam ducked away to deal with his own things. ]
I'll be okay. [ Steve turns away from the window and flashes a brief smile. ] You good?
[ Sam's got a lot to deal with too.
Steve will be okay as long as he's in Sam's presence. He just needs to be able to look over his shoulder and see Sam there like he was for two years. As long as he has that Steve feels like he'll be okay. ]
[ Sam doesn't answer immediately, but digs into the hotel's sparse clothes. Being dead for five years and having the compound blown up, he doesn't have a change of clothes, other than his combat suit, neatly placed on a chair that looks like it was meant for decoration more than sitting. Hotel staff apparently has tried to provide for everyone, so there's something vaguely in Sam's size in there, alongside a fluffy bathrobe. ]
I will be.
[ An honest smile over his shoulder as he echoes Steve's sentiment, a little melancholic. They're all reeling - the people who had to carry on for five years, and the people who are returning and have to grapple with all that means. Shared losses between both groups, too. ]
Tomorrow, we get to work.
[ We. Just like that. Sam might not have had to shoulder survivor's guilt by the trillions for five years, but he's with Steve here. Knows it's going to be on them to fix this, and can't begin to fathom the weight sitting on Steve's shoulders. Sam's not so cocky as to think he can lighten that load just by existing again, but he'll try. ]
Tonight...
[ He keeps his back to Steve for a moment, doesn't even think about it. Drops the towel, and reaches for the bathrobe. They've had plenty little privacy on the run, and Sam's not shy about that. ]
Y'know, it's weird. It doesn't feel like I was gone at all. More like I blinked between one fight and the next. It doesn't feel like I... wasn't with you. [ He pauses, briefly. His fingers feel a little numb, like he's about to crumble away again. Sam ignores that. ] What do you want to do tonight? What do you need?
[ Steve can't imagine. He lived through those five years. They weren't a blink of an eye for him. Life carried on. Of course it did. It had to. To roll over and die would have truly meant Thanos won.
The question makes Steve pause for a moment. He really should tell Sam he just wanted to check on him then wish him goodnight. There's a room down the hall for Steve. He should let Sam rest and come to terms with everything. He doesn't need Steve hovering.
What he does instead is shrug as he folds his arms across his chest. ]
[ Wrapped in the soft material of the bathrobe, Sam makes his way over to Steve, squinting slightly while holding eye contact, as if he's trying to figure out a puzzle. Steve's gotten older - it barely shows physically, it's just something in his eyes, in his posture. He's so much wearier than Sam remembers him from yesterday - except that yesterday was five years ago, and even then it's not like Steve carried himself with a carefree air. ]
C'mere.
[ Sam curls a hand around Steve's forearm, lightly tugs. He has an idea where to start, and that start is going to be a hug. ]
[ Some tension drops from Steve's shoulders. He takes a few steps forward and wraps Sam up in a hug. He rests his forehead against Sam's shoulder and holds him. Maybe a little too tightly but he can't help it.
God, he's missed him so much. Five years of a big emptiness in his life. The steady calm presence. The warm laughter. Someone not afraid to give him shit. There might never be words for how relieved and happy Steve is to have Sam back. ]
I really, really missed you.
[ He hugs him tighter. It's going to be hard to let him go. ]
[ Sam swallows. Lets the hug grow tighter, and feels how much Steve needs that. Perhaps he needs it, too. He doesn't feel those five years, but he has to live with the knowledge of them anyway. That he was dead, that his loved ones grieved him.
That Steve had to grieve him.
Five long years.
Sam's arms tighten around Steve, too. ]
I'm here, Steve. Right here. You saved me.
[ Saved all of them, really. But in this room, in this space, it's Sam, not the entire world. ]
[ Tony saved them all but that's not important right now. The details don't matter.
What matters is the moment. He's got Sam here. He's alive. Steve's got him close and it doesn't seem like he's going to have to let go any time soon. It's good. Things are finally good.
More tension drops from Steve and he leans heavily into Sam. He just wants to stay like this for awhile. Forever maybe. Or just five years. Maybe then he'd let Sam go ahead. ]
[ Natasha did as well. But Sam can't invoke the names of the dead right now. For his own sake, as well as Steve's, what matters is this moment right here. For just a little while, nothing else can exist.
A smile. Sam lightly turns his head towards Steve, his voice ending up a warm, deep rumble right next to Steve's ear. ]
Well... no one's topping 'on your left' as a battlefield entrance anytime soon, that's damn sure.
[ To the rescue? Always. And as for the near future... ]
[ Something in Steve jumps a little. That feeling he had before everything went to hell. Something he thought about acting on time and time again but held back because he really didn't know what he'd do if he scared Sam off. ]
You sure?
[ Just because he wants to doesn't mean he should. He needs to know Sam wants him to as well. They both want this. That's more important than anything else. Whatever Steve feels he needs this to be fore the both of them. ]
[ Sam doesn't move out of the tight hug, but he slightly pulls his head back, just to make sure they can look each other in the eyes for a moment. Blue, like the open sky Sam likes to lose himself in. ]
'bout you? Always have been.
[ It sounds a bit cheeky, but the sincerity runs deep, and Sam's not smiling in the way that indicates he's just teasing. He wants Steve close, doesn't want to pretend it's anything else. It's entirely possible this changed over the course of five years, but even if it did... Sam would want Steve to stay. The closer the better, but anything is good as long as he's here. ]
[ Steve doesn't know what else he can say. He's struck again by Sam's courage and loyalty and caring. How genuine he is. How much he means what he says. How deep it strikes Steve, down to the very core of him. ]
I really want to stay. [ He admits with a big sigh. ] Just need you in easy reach for awhile.
[ It'll wear off eventually, right? This need he feels to have him close and to touch him all the time. That'll fade with time. He just has to adjust to Sam being back and trust that he's back for good. ]
[ Sam's heart beat a little hard against his rib cage for a moment. Because it's different right - it's a friend lost and regained, sure, but Steve is here and not with Bucky, so there's a difference there that Sam hopes he's not reading wrong. ]
Then stay. [ In easy reach. ] Stay with me.
[ If Sam could promise that he's never going to leave again, never going to be taken from Steve again, he would. It's not within his power to make that promise, but what's easily within his power is the one thing he wants to do anyway - and that is to be by Steve's side. ]
[ That's not something either of them can promise. Steve is very aware of that. Maybe that's part of the worry. He could lose Sam again tomorrow if he's not careful. He could lose him in the blink of an eye. ]
I should... clean up a little. [ Steve draws back a little. He didn't even check on his own room. He came here and let himself in. He came to see Sam before he did anything else really. ] You, uh, you just do whatever before I interrupted.
[ He'll stay. Of course Steve will stay. He can step away from Sam and it won't be anything awful. ]
[ A beat or two passes. Sam just watches Steve's face. What he sees flicker there, that slight undercurrent of worry, perhaps fear, makes Sam hesitate in turn. After a moment: ]
Do you remember those two months in Sweden, when you and I had to bunk together and there was only the one bed? And afterwards, in the next safe house, we had separate rooms again. First few nights, I could barely sleep. Got so used to having you right there...
[ Sam never shares his own vulnerabilities unless it's about connecting to someone else's wounds. So... ]
You don't have to let go, if it's hard right now. If you'd rather keep me in reach. [ His gaze drops down as if flustered, then back up to Steve's face. ] Do you want to ask me to come with you? [ Into the bathroom. Into the shower. Sam doesn't mind. He's offering. ]
[ Ah, hell. The world ended. Steve went through five years of misery but trying his best to help others. Maybe it's time he did something for himself for once. ]
You can tell me to go if I cross a line. [ He moves his hands to Sam's face and draws him in for a soft, careful kiss. It's been awhile since he's kissed someone and he's never kissed a guy before but Steve tries his best anyway.
There was a reason he felt Sam's absence so acutely for those five years. There's a reason he wanted Sam at his side again. Feelings that he was too nervous to do anything about while they were on the run.
They're not on the run anymore. Steve's got no excuse to chicken out of this. He's going to take the risk and make it clear to Sam why he wants to stay so badly. ]
[ There's an immediate sigh of relief - over the fact that those five years haven't eroded what could have been, as much as it pains me that it means he'd been an open wound for Steve for that long. And Sam understands - Steve and him have always shared similar pains in Riley, Peggy, Bucky. Not all the same, but scars that have similar shapes.
So when Steve cups his face and kisses him so soft and careful, Sam leans into him. Welcomes him home with an equally soft kiss. It's so sweet and tender. Sam can tell Steve's not exactly had practice, but he enjoys the kiss so very much for how genuine and earnest it feels.
Cross a line? Tell Steve to go? No, never. And Sam silently tells him as much, with the sweet return of that tender kiss, with arms around Steve to make sure he can feel just how wanted he is in this space. ]
[ Steve brushes his thumbs back and forth against Sam's cheeks as he draws back from the kiss. He rests his forehead against Sam's. ]
I just really want to stay close to you.
[ That's the best way he can say it. Steve just wants to stay close. Whatever that leads to. Whatever that means to Sam. It means something romantic but he understands that might not be something Sam's ready for right now.
Even though he did just kiss him back.
As long as Steve can stay close, that's all that matters. He only needs to stay close and have Sam near. ]
[ Sam nods, enjoying the physical closeness. Forehead to forehead, just breathing together. The way Steve cradles his face like Sam is oh so precious. ]
I want to stay close to you, too.
[ A small, soft kiss, so chaste it's barely there. ]
Tonight. Tomorrow.
[ He swallows, emotion catching up for a moment. ]
I didn't want to assume that after five years... that you still wanted to go where we were heading before. [ A beat, and just in case it wasn't clear enough: ] I do. I want you closer.
Sam. [ There's a brief hint of a smile. ] It's not like I'm really good at moving on once I get feelings for someone.
[ Okay, he coached a lot of people through but Steve never took that advice himself. He just couldn't bring himself to. It felt weirdly like a betrayal. Like he was letting Sam down somehow.
And here they are, five years later. Steve's feelings are just as strong, just as certain as before. ]
[ There's a touch of sadness to the smile that tugs on Sam's lips - because it's true, Steve is not good at moving on, at letting go. At least, not like this. Breaks Sam's heart a bit - and makes him feel loved in a strange, impossible way. To know that he was grieved. To know that affections for him persisted that deeply.
Love, whispers a small voice at the back of his mind. Early to name it only if you shy away from a very obvious truth.
The melancholy fades at Steve's next words, leaving Sam's smile sweet and perhaps just a little suggestive. ]
How 'bout the closest we could be? [ Another soft kiss. ] Come to bed with me, Steve.
Yeah, yeah, just... just let me have a quick shower. [ Because he's still carrying the battlefield with him. He's definitely dirty and sweaty and not really in any state to sleep next to anyone except back on that battlefield.
But they're not roughing it in the field. Steve can clean up. Sam cleaned up. Clearly, he's got to give the same attention. ]
Three minutes. Army special. [ A cold quick shower might actually clear Steve's head. And a clear head might be a double edged sword of letting the nerves build. ] Just wait for me, okay?
[ They can climb into bed together. If Sam waits. ]
[ a firm nod. ] well got time. You don't gotta rush quite so bad. I'll be right here.
[ he wants to offer to join Steve, but Sam has a suspicion they won'tmake it out of the shower for way too long a time if he does. That's a plan for later though.
[ A cold shower would probably put Steve in a worse state of mind given the memories it brings back. He smiles a little at Sam's words. The man knows him well and God, Steve's missed that. ]
Not too cold.
[ He strokes his hand down Sam's arm before he ducks away and into the bathroom for the shower. He lets the water heat up while he strips down, leaving the dirty and torn Captain America uniform on the sink counter.
That's tomorrow's problem.
Right now, Steve washes up, scrubbing away dirt and dried blood. Whatever remains of Thanos is washed down the drain and Steve comes out clean.
He comes out a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. ]
[ Sam doesn't quite stay rooted to the spot where Steve left him in the meantime. He closes the curtains after a lingering glance outside, checks the nightstand, activates Redwing's good night protocol, sets his own phone to silent other than the few emergency contacts he is in there. Hesitates, then puts on some music to fill the silence. Something he knows Steve will enjoy, too, just crooning softly in the background. Sits on the edge of the bed for a moment, fidgeting with the sleeve of his bath robe.
There's a soft fluttering of nerves in him, but not unpleasant. Anticipation more than anything.
When the water shuts off, Sam gets up, moves back to where Steve and him were standing a moment ago, just so that Steve will indeed find Sam where he left him. It's more literal than his promise was intended, but he intends the gesture to be sweet. Allows himself to drink in the sight of Steve like this. Clean and in nothing but a towel. More than the appealing sight though, it's the face that Sam's eyes catch and linger on, free of battlefield grime now. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for @vintagecaptain
And afterwards...
Hours of clearing the battlefield. Wounds that needed patching up, and Sam's retained enough skill from being a battlefield medic as pararescue that he can't not help. There's debriefings, there's an immediate, dizzying new reality to contend with - being dead for 5 years, Tony's death, learning about Natasha who from Sam's perspective had JUST been on the battlefield, too, and they'd JUST spent two years living in each other's pockets on the run, Steve and Nat and him...
It takes hours. Sam's eyes scan over everyone regularly. Steve is always nearby, but they don't get a moment to themselves. Not until they're all carted off. Pepper pulls some strings, gets them situated in a hotel, those that don't need further medical treatment. Sam retreats, for a bit. When there is nothing and nobody he can directly help, he slips away to the room he got put in, needs to make a phone call.
Sarah falls apart on the other end of the line. And finally, it begins to hit Sam. Not just the words, but the reality that half the universe had died and was just gone for five whole entire years. Not just the universe. He did, specifically. It means he hasn't seen Sarah in two years, but she hasn't seen him in seven. It means she's grieved him for five years.
So has Steve, and that hits Sam like a gut punch, once the adrenaline finally falls out from under him. Two years on the run, they'd been circling this unspoken thing that has been brewing for a while. In hindsight, maybe they've always teetered on that edge - Natasha's knowing looks certainly implied so. Different, though, when you're friends and work side by side, to when you're on the run together, sharing tiny safe houses and shitty motel beds occasionally. Sam doesn't think he was alone in noticing the way they'd been inching towards something. Sliding one another glances that lingered like touches. It had felt like they were tentatively feeling out the edge of a maybe, but Sam wasn't sure if Steve wanted to, if Steve could, if Peggy rested in the same closed box for Steve as Riley did for Sam, if Steve would ever want to, or if theirs was going to be a beautiful maybe tucked alongside their friendship.
Sam's not a naive man, and yet he'd thought there'd be more time for him to give this thing, to see where it would fall. And then Thanos had...
Sam takes a long, hot shower, in the end. Needs to get the battlefield dust off of him. Needs to shut the world out and take a moment to grieve their losses, to find out how he feels about his own death, to calm himself so he'll be of use to anyone in the days to come. When he emerges from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, skin damp, the room isn't empty, and perhaps that shouldn't come as a surprise. Sam stays relaxed. For him, having Steve nearby 24/7 has become the norm, even though he knows Steve had five years to come to terms with Sam's absence. ]
Steve.
[ A gentle prompt. Steve's by the window, looking out over the city. Sam knows his friend is aware of Sam re-entering the room after his shower. Still, Sam steps a little closer, waits until Steve's back is no longer to him. It's been a long and brutal day, but tired aches fall away the moment their eyes meet. And finally... the chance to reunite, properly. ]
You alright?
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But Sam's back. Sam's here and for the last five years Steve's looked for his friend time and time again only to find and empty spot next to him. A silence in his life where Sam once took up space and made noise and was there. He was there for years when Steve needed him and then he was gone.
Five years of nothing.
And he's back. Like nothing ever happened. Steve couldn't fully explain the urge he felt to just be in Sam's presence and know he's there but that's what he's felt since Sam ducked away to deal with his own things. ]
I'll be okay. [ Steve turns away from the window and flashes a brief smile. ] You good?
[ Sam's got a lot to deal with too.
Steve will be okay as long as he's in Sam's presence. He just needs to be able to look over his shoulder and see Sam there like he was for two years. As long as he has that Steve feels like he'll be okay. ]
no subject
I will be.
[ An honest smile over his shoulder as he echoes Steve's sentiment, a little melancholic. They're all reeling - the people who had to carry on for five years, and the people who are returning and have to grapple with all that means. Shared losses between both groups, too. ]
Tomorrow, we get to work.
[ We. Just like that. Sam might not have had to shoulder survivor's guilt by the trillions for five years, but he's with Steve here. Knows it's going to be on them to fix this, and can't begin to fathom the weight sitting on Steve's shoulders. Sam's not so cocky as to think he can lighten that load just by existing again, but he'll try. ]
Tonight...
[ He keeps his back to Steve for a moment, doesn't even think about it. Drops the towel, and reaches for the bathrobe. They've had plenty little privacy on the run, and Sam's not shy about that. ]
Y'know, it's weird. It doesn't feel like I was gone at all. More like I blinked between one fight and the next. It doesn't feel like I... wasn't with you. [ He pauses, briefly. His fingers feel a little numb, like he's about to crumble away again. Sam ignores that. ] What do you want to do tonight? What do you need?
no subject
[ Steve can't imagine. He lived through those five years. They weren't a blink of an eye for him. Life carried on. Of course it did. It had to. To roll over and die would have truly meant Thanos won.
The question makes Steve pause for a moment. He really should tell Sam he just wanted to check on him then wish him goodnight. There's a room down the hall for Steve. He should let Sam rest and come to terms with everything. He doesn't need Steve hovering.
What he does instead is shrug as he folds his arms across his chest. ]
When I figure it out, I'll let you know.
no subject
C'mere.
[ Sam curls a hand around Steve's forearm, lightly tugs. He has an idea where to start, and that start is going to be a hug. ]
no subject
God, he's missed him so much. Five years of a big emptiness in his life. The steady calm presence. The warm laughter. Someone not afraid to give him shit. There might never be words for how relieved and happy Steve is to have Sam back. ]
I really, really missed you.
[ He hugs him tighter. It's going to be hard to let him go. ]
no subject
That Steve had to grieve him.
Five long years.
Sam's arms tighten around Steve, too. ]
I'm here, Steve. Right here. You saved me.
[ Saved all of them, really. But in this room, in this space, it's Sam, not the entire world. ]
no subject
What matters is the moment. He's got Sam here. He's alive. Steve's got him close and it doesn't seem like he's going to have to let go any time soon. It's good. Things are finally good.
More tension drops from Steve and he leans heavily into Sam. He just wants to stay like this for awhile. Forever maybe. Or just five years. Maybe then he'd let Sam go ahead. ]
Like hell, Sam. You saved me this time.
no subject
A smile. Sam lightly turns his head towards Steve, his voice ending up a warm, deep rumble right next to Steve's ear. ]
Well... no one's topping 'on your left' as a battlefield entrance anytime soon, that's damn sure.
[ To the rescue? Always. And as for the near future... ]
Stay here tonight.
no subject
You sure?
[ Just because he wants to doesn't mean he should. He needs to know Sam wants him to as well. They both want this. That's more important than anything else. Whatever Steve feels he needs this to be fore the both of them. ]
no subject
'bout you? Always have been.
[ It sounds a bit cheeky, but the sincerity runs deep, and Sam's not smiling in the way that indicates he's just teasing. He wants Steve close, doesn't want to pretend it's anything else. It's entirely possible this changed over the course of five years, but even if it did... Sam would want Steve to stay. The closer the better, but anything is good as long as he's here. ]
no subject
[ Steve doesn't know what else he can say. He's struck again by Sam's courage and loyalty and caring. How genuine he is. How much he means what he says. How deep it strikes Steve, down to the very core of him. ]
I really want to stay. [ He admits with a big sigh. ] Just need you in easy reach for awhile.
[ It'll wear off eventually, right? This need he feels to have him close and to touch him all the time. That'll fade with time. He just has to adjust to Sam being back and trust that he's back for good. ]
no subject
Then stay. [ In easy reach. ] Stay with me.
[ If Sam could promise that he's never going to leave again, never going to be taken from Steve again, he would. It's not within his power to make that promise, but what's easily within his power is the one thing he wants to do anyway - and that is to be by Steve's side. ]
no subject
I should... clean up a little. [ Steve draws back a little. He didn't even check on his own room. He came here and let himself in. He came to see Sam before he did anything else really. ] You, uh, you just do whatever before I interrupted.
[ He'll stay. Of course Steve will stay. He can step away from Sam and it won't be anything awful. ]
no subject
Do you remember those two months in Sweden, when you and I had to bunk together and there was only the one bed? And afterwards, in the next safe house, we had separate rooms again. First few nights, I could barely sleep. Got so used to having you right there...
[ Sam never shares his own vulnerabilities unless it's about connecting to someone else's wounds. So... ]
You don't have to let go, if it's hard right now. If you'd rather keep me in reach. [ His gaze drops down as if flustered, then back up to Steve's face. ] Do you want to ask me to come with you? [ Into the bathroom. Into the shower. Sam doesn't mind. He's offering. ]
no subject
You can tell me to go if I cross a line. [ He moves his hands to Sam's face and draws him in for a soft, careful kiss. It's been awhile since he's kissed someone and he's never kissed a guy before but Steve tries his best anyway.
There was a reason he felt Sam's absence so acutely for those five years. There's a reason he wanted Sam at his side again. Feelings that he was too nervous to do anything about while they were on the run.
They're not on the run anymore. Steve's got no excuse to chicken out of this. He's going to take the risk and make it clear to Sam why he wants to stay so badly. ]
no subject
So when Steve cups his face and kisses him so soft and careful, Sam leans into him. Welcomes him home with an equally soft kiss. It's so sweet and tender. Sam can tell Steve's not exactly had practice, but he enjoys the kiss so very much for how genuine and earnest it feels.
Cross a line? Tell Steve to go? No, never. And Sam silently tells him as much, with the sweet return of that tender kiss, with arms around Steve to make sure he can feel just how wanted he is in this space. ]
no subject
I just really want to stay close to you.
[ That's the best way he can say it. Steve just wants to stay close. Whatever that leads to. Whatever that means to Sam. It means something romantic but he understands that might not be something Sam's ready for right now.
Even though he did just kiss him back.
As long as Steve can stay close, that's all that matters. He only needs to stay close and have Sam near. ]
no subject
I want to stay close to you, too.
[ A small, soft kiss, so chaste it's barely there. ]
Tonight. Tomorrow.
[ He swallows, emotion catching up for a moment. ]
I didn't want to assume that after five years... that you still wanted to go where we were heading before. [ A beat, and just in case it wasn't clear enough: ] I do. I want you closer.
no subject
[ Okay, he coached a lot of people through but Steve never took that advice himself. He just couldn't bring himself to. It felt weirdly like a betrayal. Like he was letting Sam down somehow.
And here they are, five years later. Steve's feelings are just as strong, just as certain as before. ]
Closer is good. However close you want to get.
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Love, whispers a small voice at the back of his mind. Early to name it only if you shy away from a very obvious truth.
The melancholy fades at Steve's next words, leaving Sam's smile sweet and perhaps just a little suggestive. ]
How 'bout the closest we could be? [ Another soft kiss. ] Come to bed with me, Steve.
no subject
But they're not roughing it in the field. Steve can clean up. Sam cleaned up. Clearly, he's got to give the same attention. ]
Three minutes. Army special. [ A cold quick shower might actually clear Steve's head. And a clear head might be a double edged sword of letting the nerves build. ] Just wait for me, okay?
[ They can climb into bed together. If Sam waits. ]
no subject
[ he wants to offer to join Steve, but Sam has a suspicion they won'tmake it out of the shower for way too long a time if he does. That's a plan for later though.
His smile deepens. ]
And not too cold.
[ He has to tease a little, doesn't he. ]
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Not too cold.
[ He strokes his hand down Sam's arm before he ducks away and into the bathroom for the shower. He lets the water heat up while he strips down, leaving the dirty and torn Captain America uniform on the sink counter.
That's tomorrow's problem.
Right now, Steve washes up, scrubbing away dirt and dried blood. Whatever remains of Thanos is washed down the drain and Steve comes out clean.
He comes out a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. ]
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There's a soft fluttering of nerves in him, but not unpleasant. Anticipation more than anything.
When the water shuts off, Sam gets up, moves back to where Steve and him were standing a moment ago, just so that Steve will indeed find Sam where he left him. It's more literal than his promise was intended, but he intends the gesture to be sweet. Allows himself to drink in the sight of Steve like this. Clean and in nothing but a towel. More than the appealing sight though, it's the face that Sam's eyes catch and linger on, free of battlefield grime now. ]
There you are.
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