Chapter 14
For several beats, there was nothing between them but silence.
Sam didn't know where to look. At Bucky, who was completely floored at the sudden reappearance of his best friend.
Or at Steve. Steve, who’s presence usually took up a space. But right now, Steve seemed to be shrinking.
Another moment, and Sam, ever the counselor decided to speak. But he wasn't God. Sam took an out. “I’ll let the two of you guys catch up for a bit, and warm up some dinner for us.” They’d just eaten an hour or two ago, but Sam knew Bucky could most likely eat again.
“Sam,” Steve speaks quietly, before he can back out of the room. “I’ve missed you.” He steps forward hopefully.
Sam grins at Steve, and that’s all the encouragement Steve needs, before surging forward and wrapping Sam in a big hug.
He hugs Steve back just as tight. When they pull away, Bucky is watching them calculatingly, though he changes his facial expression just as Steve looks his way.
Bucky and Steve look at each other. Just take each other in. There’s so much emotion, as they gaze at each other. It’s almost stifling. Sam looks away to let them have their moment.
“You’re real,” Steve said, though it sounded like more of a question.
“What do you mean?” Bucky asked, speaking for the first time.
Steve laughed in response, and its a dark thing. “For a few days there, after the Potomac,” he shrugged. “I wasn't sure if I hallucinated the whole thing.”
Bucky steps toward him. “I’m real. I’m here Stevie. I promise.”
Steve smiles, but its a watery one. He clasped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. But Bucky shakes his head.
“None of that shit.” He pulls Steve into a tight embrace.
Immediately, Steve’s body relaxed in Bucky’s hold. His head is buried in his shoulder, and he almost seems to shrink in Bucky’s presence. Bucky holds him tightly, shouldering some of Steve’s weight.
“I’m here, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs. “I’m here and I’m never gonna leave again. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you Steve. I’ve got you, I swear it.”
Sam retreats to the kitchen quietly. He tosses some lasagna into the oven, Bucky claimed it was the best comfort food. And it seemed like that was what they needed, tonight.
He sat down at the counter to watch the timer on the stove. Behind him, he could still hear Bucky’s voice. Even though the words and emotions weren't meant for him, Sam let the sound wash over him.
“Sam?” Someone was shaking his shoulder. “Trying to burn the house down, huh?”
He opened his eyes. Bucky was above him, a little smile on his face. But he also looked concerned. “You alright?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Sorry guys.”
“Nothing to apologize for. Has he been tiring you out, Sam? Bucky never let me get any sleep.”
Over by the stove is Steve, once again looking right at home in Sam’s kitchen, oven mitts and all. Bucky must have calmed him down, because he looked relaxed. And happier than he did the last time Sam had seen him.
Bucky laughs and even Sam has to chuckle. “Trust me, I put him right to sleep. Isn't that right, Sam?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Steve sputters. “He snores!” With the mention of their relationship, Steve seemed to tense up.
Sam frowned at that. Did he not approve? But he shook those thoughts out of his mind.
“No he doesn’t.” Sam looks over at Bucky. “You don’t snore.”
“He does.” Steve’s face is a mask of confusion. “I shared a room with you. And then a tent.”
Bucky shrugs. “Well I don’t anymore,” he said easily. “Maybe HYDRA beat it out of me.”
Steve freezes.
"Buck," Sam chastises quickly. He turns to Steve. "I keep telling him not to make those jokes around other people."
"I've never been 'other people' before. With either of you," Steve says lightly, looking anywhere and everywhere but at them.
"Steve I - that's not what I met," Sam corrected quickly. But it was already out there.
He smiles at them, but it's the kind that Sam could recognize as fake. Steve was uncomfortable. "I know," Steve says.
But Bucky shoots him a look, and Sam knows that even after seventy years of separation, Bucky could still read his friend like a book.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Steve. But I don't think I snore. Not anymore."
Steve shrugs, making plates for the three of them. "Things change. For everyone."
"I'm still yours," Bucky says, almost desperately. "Your best friend. If you'll have me. I - I know I don't deserve it. You. Or Sam or," he gestures around the house. "Any of this. I'm damn lucky."
Steve chuckles, looking at Bucky like he was the sun, placing a plate in front of him. "Buck. You never stopped being my best friend."
He doesn't say anything, simply smiles into his plate as he tucked into his lasagna. Steve sits beside Sam, a matching smile on his face.
Sam doesn't feel all that hungry, anymore.
He excuses himself quickly, claiming a headache. The lie is not far off. The amount of things circulating in Sam's head are contributing to an ache in his temple.
Sam lays down in his bed, their bed. It smells kind of like Bucky, maybe a mashup of their combined scents. He can't resist pressing his face to Bucky's pillow for a moment, before rolling over to his side of the bed, pulling the comforter up and around him.
It's not that he's jealous. He's not. He loves Steve and Bucky and wants them to be happy more than anything. Surely, the only way they could be happy was if they were happy together?
Riley used to joke that Sam was a martyr. He'd always disagreed, believing fully in self preservation. But now, maybe he could see it.
Because he loved Bucky. God, did Sam love Bucky. And he’d known that he would have to give him up. But who knew it would be this soon?
Sam tried his hardest not to think about it anymore, shutting his eyes. He could hear voices from the living room, guiding him into an uneasy sleep. Both Steve and Bucky followed Sam into his dreams, not for the first time.
*
"My heads been killing me all day," Sam apologized, slowly backing out of the room. Bucky watches the concern spread across Steve's face. Bucky also watches the way Steve admires Sam's backside.
"I hope he's alright," Steve says, turning toward Bucky again.
"He works too hard," Bucky said simply.
Steve snorts. "And I bet dating you is a second job."
For a moment, Bucky doesn't say anything. "You little shit."
Steve grins at him, and for a second, Bucky is back in their shoebox Brooklyn apartment.
"Whatever jerk."
"You're a punk, Steve. A fuckin' punk." Bucky shakes his head, amusement coloring his features.
“You’ve always been one of the few to think that, Buck.”
He snorts. “That’s because your tiny ass was the picture of innocence. You could get away with murder. And now? Cap could do no wrong.”
“I can,” Steve says. “I have - I - I’m human just like everybody else.” He smiles ruefully. “I might be Captain America, but Captain America isn't me. You know what I mean?”
Bucky nods. He does. God, he does.
Steve smiles then, and it’s a real one. “No one seems to. You do, and then I met Sam.” A different kind of smile spreads across his face, and Bucky knows.
“He’s a great guy,” Steve continues. “I’m glad you guys found each other.”
Bucky can’t imagine many other people would pick up on it, but Bucky had known Steve his whole life. Before he knew himself. He watched Steve’s face, and it was as clear as the day. He was jealous.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me when I became a fairy? I mean, gay?” Bucky asked curiously. He'd never looked at guys back in the day. Not like he knew Steve did.
Steve chuckles, playing along. “Sure Buck. You always…like guys?”
He shrugs. “I still don't know. I know I love Sam though. What about you?”
“What do I…like?” Steve asks hesitantly. Bucky nods.
“I like people.” Steve says simply, looking down at his lap. “Always have.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?” It bursts out of Bucky unexpectedly, word vomit that he can’t swallow down. “I thought I knew but I was just waiting, waiting on you to tell me, Stevie. Why didn't you trust me?”
“Bucky, I trust you with my life. Always have. But you remember what it was like then. It wasn't great to be gay.” Steve says.
“It wasn't great for nobody. I wouldn’t have cared. I’d have kept your secret.”
Steve smiled ruefully at his lap. “I know, Buck. I know.”
Eventually, they moved the sofa in the living room. It was just like old-times, except for the television in front of them and the glasses of beer that had the same effect on them as water.
Just like old-times, except it was 2016 and not 1945. They were both juiced up supersoldiers. Like old-times, except Steve was bi-sexual and Bucky was Sam-sexual.
Bucky was different now, undoubtably. But so was Steve. So were they. But at least they had each other, again.
It was more than he'd ever could've hoped for.
*
Sam awoke with a start as Bucky tried to softly climb into bed with him. Bucky’s body was curved above his, and the moonlight from their bedroom window illuminated his face just enough that Sam could read his expression.
“It’s ok,” Sam said, before Bucky could apologize. “Stay,” he said, as Bucky began to move off of him.
“Bad dream?” Bucky asked quietly, reading him like a book.
“Something like that,” Sam replied.
In his dream, Sam was trying to catch him. Bucky. He was falling, Sam was flying. And he caught him. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't Bucky. It was Steve. Bucky was already gone.
“How’s Steve?”
Bucky smiled against his skin, head on Sam’s shoulder. “Good. Great. We caught up a bit. He’s probably asleep already.”
Sam ran his hands up and down Bucky’s back, soothing himself more than anything.
”I’m glad.”
“Me too,” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to Sam’s lips. “It’s all because of you. You’re the only reason that I was able to get through tonight. I love you.”
Sam smiled despite the whirlwind of emotions in is head. “And I love you.”
They kissed until their lips were bruised, touching and touching. Clothes were shucked off in quick succession, until there was nothing between them but skin.
“Mine,” Bucky whispered his claim into Sam’s skin.
“Yours,” Sam gasped.
*
Steve had never felt like more of a creep.
He’d tried everything, blankets - even a pillow over his head. But nothing could stifle the noise, the sounds, coming from the room next to his.
Even without his enhanced hearing, Steve would still be able to hear them. But with it? It was like free audio porn. That Steve hadn't signed up for.
Steve hadn't signed up for any of this. The surprise of seeing Bucky - the adrenaline had yet to dissipate. He was high off of their reconnection. And so, so happy. But he hadn't been expecting it.
Steve had come home to Sam. To finally ask him out.
But he'd been gone too long, waited too long. Sam was too good for him - or at least that’s what Steve told himself. And he was. But that didn't mean Steve wanted to let him get away.
But he'd had. Steve waited far too long, and now he was with Bucky. His best friend.
And it hurt. But Steve could deal with the hurt. But what he couldn't deal with was his untimely erection.
Steve was listening to his two closest friends in the universe have sex.
He tried to think of anything else - baseball, HYDRA, the fact that the Dodgers moved to L.A. But nothing could quell his dicks interest in the moans escaping his friends.
His blindly attractive friends.
This wasn't the first time he'd listened Bucky have sex, fucking his fist all the while. Steve had never known for certain if Bucky had put on a show when he knew Steve was listening. But the dames always left with an extra spring in their steps afterwards, and Bucky would smile like the cat that got cream, glancing at Steve knowingly.
And Steve felt so dirty. It was wrong. But it didn't take any imagination, to imagine what Bucky and Sam were doing next door.
Sam was bottomming, judging by the pretty sounds he was making. The headboard was smacking against the wall, Bucky groaning loudly.
Unable to fight it anymore, Steve slipped a hand into his pajama pants, heart racing. The shame was just as much as a turn on as it had been 70 years ago, heat coursing through his body. He gripped himself tightly, moving fast, letting small sounds escape his lips. Those sounds blended in with the noises from next door, and Steve could almost imagine that he was in there with them.
That thought was what had Steve coming with a small shout, though it most likely went unnoticed by Sam and Bucky as they took their own pleasure.
Self hatred coursed through Steve as the come dried on his skin. He stared up at the blank ceiling of the guest room. He was alone. Steve was in a cold bed by himself. And he only wanted to be with them.
With Sam and Bucky.
Steve was fucked.
*
Sam was asleep in their bed, Steve in the guest room. But Bucky was out on the back porch. The house was filled with too much energy right now.
All he wanted to do was breathe.
Bucky was thrilled that Steve was back. Still nervous as hell, but at the same time, elated. But Bucky had seen the way Steve looked at Sam. He’d always been able to notice when Steve had a crush, and after all these years, he still hadn't changed a bit. He was gone for Sam.
He hadn't known Steve was going to listen in on them. In fact, Bucky hadn't even remembered that being a thing they did - Bucky having sex and Steve listening in. He hadn't remembered it until he was already balls deep in Sam, and had noticed someone else panting.
The memory had nearly thrown Bucky off balance, but luckily, Sam hadn't noticed. Back in Brooklyn, this was no big deal. But Bucky loved Sam, and apparently, Steve wanted Sam too.
He loved Steve. Bucky loves Steve in every sense of the word. But Sam is his.
And Bucky didn't have a problem making it known.