Long road trips have always been something Sam doesn't care for. He doesn't like being cramped up in a car for hours on end. Hell, he's got his wings now. He could fly places if he stays low enough under the radar. The problem is, he can't carry Bucky thousands of miles that way, and they sort of both need to be where they're going.
They're headed to Delacroix to see Sam's family, and while they could have gotten on a plane, there's more than a few gifts they're bringing along for the boys for Christmas, and checking that many bags just seems a bit much (and commandeering a military plane isn't something even Captain America can just do). So, they're driving.
When they switch over at the gas station, Sam settles into the passenger seat and gets ready for a quiet ride. He's used to Bucky not talking much anyway, so he figures it'll be a chance to catch a nap.
Except as the car starts up and Bucky pulls them back onto the highway, Sam finds himself watching the other man, taking in the way he holds the steering wheel, the set of his jaw as he watches the road, the way he taps the fingers of his left hand against the wheel softly. It's all quiet and so calm. It's something he doesn't get to see in Bucky very often, and it's almost hypnotizing.
After a few minutes, Bucky clears his throat and reaches over, tapping the screen of his phone, mounted on the dash. Sam watches as he seems to manage it without once taking his eyes off the road. He pulls up his music and hits play, the sound playing through the car speakers as it's picked up through the aux cord.
Sam wants to chastise Bucky for taking his focus off driving, but the man doesn't seem to swerve or suffer the five seconds it takes to find the spaces on the screen where his icons are. It's as though he's got the layout memorized, and for a guy who didn't know how to use a flip phone just a couple years ago, it's a far way to have come.
He leans back, letting Bucky's music wash over him and dozing off, tired from driving the first leg of the journey. They've still got some distance to go, and knowing Bucky, they'll probably go through the night. The man is a tank sometimes, and Sam knows it's partly to do with the serum, but sometimes he wonders if maybe Bucky's just always been like this.
Maybe Bucky has always put so much of himself into something until it was finished. Maybe Bucky's always been a bit of a night owl with sleep issues, even before the trauma. Maybe Bucky's the kind of guy who functions off four hours a night.
Sam really doesn't know what Bucky was like before all of the things that made Bucky who he is today. Sometimes, he thinks he barely knows Bucky in general. There's a wall there, still, and Bucky's a very secretive person. It's taken ages just to get the man to calm down enough to read around Sam.
Sam's fading in and out of sleep while these thoughts of Bucky stir in his mind, but then something starts to break through his thoughts, pulling him back to the edge of consciousness. It's a soft voice, singing along with the radio.
Cracking his eyes open, Sam looks over at Bucky and sees him watching the road, right hand on the wheel and left elbow on the edge of the car door, hand hanging down. He's focused, but he's also singing along with the song, and it takes Sam a moment to catch the words.
It's a song about smiling, of all things. One of the things Sam rarely sees Bucky do. How smiling makes the whole world smile and crying makes it rain. Sam vaguely knows the song, but it's definitely older. Bucky's time. It sounds… good when Bucky sings it though.
As the song ends, and it's a very short song, Sam finds himself watching Bucky a little more than he usually does. There's a softness to his face that Sam doesn't get to see often. He looks calm and relaxed and, dare Sam think it, happy. From this angle, it even looks like Bucky is smiling.
But then, Sam realizes that Bucky does smile. He smiles a lot. Bucky smiles when Sam tells stupid little jokes. Bucky smiles when he's helping Sarah cook. Bucky smiles when he's playing games in the backyard with Sam's nephews.
And it's not just those obvious moments. No. Bucky smiles a soft, sweet smile when he thinks Sam doesn't know. When he's making sure Sam is comfortable after falling asleep on the couch. He watches Sam and smiles and touches his forehead before heading off to find him a blanket.
Bucky smiles behind his hand when Sam gets a one-up on any of the generals during a briefing, and considering the way those old men think, it's something Sam finds himself doing a lot.
Bucky smiles when Sam helps him pull his hair back from his forehead while he's cooking something in their small shared apartment, laughing softly at Sam's touch and how the other man grumbles about Bucky getting hair in the food. Something Bucky has never done.
The song changes over to something slightly more recent and Sam can't help but chuckle, giving away that he's not sleeping. "Really?" he asks, causing Bucky to him in curiosity. "Matchbox Twenty? This is, what, from the 90s?"
Bucky reaches over and taps the screen of his phone, pausing the music. He clears his throat and he's smiling again. God, Sam can't stand how beautiful that man is when he smiles.
"Sam," Bucky says, chuckling as well, "I need you to take a big step back. Think about what you just said, and who you just said it to."
Sam shifts in his seat and squints, staring at Bucky for a moment. "What? Am I not allowed to criticize your taste in music?"
"Criticize it all you like, Samuel," Bucky laughs, "but why are you gettin' on my case for listening to something from the 90s?"
Sam blinks and furrows his brow. Then, it hits him. Bucky Barnes. Mr. I like 40s music. Is listening to something from the 90s. "Well shit, you're graduating," Sam says after a second.
Bucky barks out a laugh, clearly surprised by Sam's comment. Sam watches the way his eyes wrinkle around the edges and his cheeks go a little red, and he can't help himself.
"I think I love you," Sam murmurs.
Bucky goes quiet, tilting his head. He glances at Sam, his smile still present, but smaller. With a raised eyebrow, he hums. "You do?"
Sam blinks. Because it's only now he's realizing that he's admitted his feelings for the other man. Feelings he's been muddling over for months now. Ever since they moved in together, actually.
And really, is he surprised with himself for falling in love with the man who bakes the best banana bread he's ever tasted and who has had his back on almost every decision he's made since becoming Captain America? There was that one time Bucky had told him he was insane for the clear ambush they'd walked right into, but that had been after the fact, and with a look in his eyes that Sam can't interpret to this day.
Sam clears his throat and nods. "Yeah," he says, smiling and laughing softly. "I- I do. I love you."
Bucky's smile remains soft and warm and he keeps his eyes on the road, but he lets out a soft sound, as though thinking. Finally, he lets out a breath, chuckling.
"Been a minute since anyone's said that to me," he whispers. "Been even longer since I felt it back."
Sam feels confused at that, unsure what Bucky means. He shifts in his seat to face Bucky a little better. "Yeah?"
Bucky nods. He looks at Sam out of the corner of his eye, then back to the road. It's quiet for a long few moments and Sam isn't sure what to make of that. He feels like maybe he's overstepped a boundary.
Then, Bucky clears his throat. "That was a really dumb way of saying I love you back, by the way," he says, shaking his head at himself. "Sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" Sam laughs, shocked. "I- Did you just say you- What?"
Bucky laughs again. "Yeah. I love you, too. Think I've loved you… God, I can't even remember, it's been so long. Back somewhere around the airport, and all those times you came out to Wakanda while I was recovering. I got scared of what I was feeling and sort of… well."
"You ghosted me," Sam says, crossing his arms over his chest. "You ghosted me because you had fallen in love with me?"
"Look, I never said I was a bright man, alright?" Bucky smirks. "I've always been a bit of an idiot when it came to my feelings. You could'a asked Steve. He'd've said the same damn thing."
That makes Sam properly laugh. To the point it actually hurts. His cheeks burn and his stomach aches and he knows it's an over-reaction, but something about Bucky in this moment just makes everything feel so much better and Sam can't help but let it all out in a way that feels so cathartic. Like a scream. Only happier.
When he calms down enough to breathe again, he looks back over at Bucky, who has an eyebrow raised, but has otherwise gone unchanged through Sam's laughter.
"I love your laugh," Bucky says after a moment, and Sam feels his face getting hot.
"You do?"
Bucky nods. "There's a lot I love about you, but I been just… enjoying being near you. Didn't have to be more than that. But now you said something, I kinda feel a bit more free to say it. I love the way you get all sorta cocky when you tell a joke you think is clever. That little half smirk you get. And the way your voice sounds when you've just woken up in the morning. I love the way you make coffee and I love the way you hate Earl Grey tea for some weird reason, but you'll try any other tea I make for you."
Sam chuckles and looks away. "That's… a lot."
Bucky hums. "I love so much about you, it's hard to see the edges anymore," he says softly. "Everything you do and everything about you is just love. And I think that's the way its s'posed to be. That's how Ma explained it. Never thought I'd understand what she meant, but looking at you, I get it. Loving someone quietly, she said. Meant you loved 'em from every corner of the room, no matter what they were doing. You loved 'em when they were awake or asleep or right next to you or hundreds of miles away. You loved 'em enough to protect them with everything in you and trust them with your whole being. And that's how I feel about you, Sam. I love you. Quietly."
Sam smiles and nods. "That sounds about right."
"I'd like to love you loudly, too," Bucky adds. "So the whole world knows."
Sam's breath catches in his chest. "Yeah?"
Bucky nods. "But we can start with quiet, if that's something you're more comfortable with."
"I love you, Buck," Sam chuckles. "All your parts and all your weirdness and everything in between. Quiet or loud." He tilts his head. "Both."
"Both is good," Bucky murmurs, tapping the screen of his phone and starting the music again. He steadies his left hand on the wheel and reaches over with his right hand, taking Sam's hand in his own and lifting it to his lips gently. "Quiet and loud. Sounds good to me."