Save the Best for Last

“So, are you gonna ask him?” Steve stage whispered, like the little shit that he was, while not so subtly glancing at Sam who was sitting on the couch.

“Yes,” Bucky snapped, and let his own gaze settle briefly on Sam to make sure he wasn’t paying attention to them. Luckily, Sam seemed too preoccupied with whatever he was listening to on his headphones to be worried about what they were discussing at the table.

“When?”

“When I feel like it,” Bucky replied, but when Steve rolled his eyes, he sighed. “I’m working up to it, okay?”

“Working up to it?” Steve cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you proposition strangers within five minutes of meeting them, but you have to work up to this?”

“No you haven’t.”

“Okay, no, I haven’t,” Steve conceded, grinning, and Bucky couldn’t help but snort in response.

“I have seen you ask people out without so much as blinking though,” he continued. “People you barely knew, so why is it so hard now?”

“Because it’s Sam,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I’m not looking for some casual thing with him. I want to,” he shrugged, “you know, date date him or whatever.”

“Yeah, I do know.” Steve said, trying not to laugh at his usually smooth best friend looking so awkward. “Everyone knows except Sam.”

“They do not.”

It was Steve’s turn to snort then, but he didn’t bother correcting Bucky. If he wanted to pretend that his crush hadn’t been about as subtle as a hammer to the head for a while now, then Steve wasn’t going to stop him.

“Whatever, pal.” He waved his hand dismissively. “All I’m saying is, you’re not going to be doing anything with Sam if you never make a move. And now is the perfect time.”

“I know that,” Bucky said, sounding irritated all over again.

And he did know. He was present when Sam walked into the living room of their right-off campus apartment a few nights ago, a little more than a month after his break up with Riley, and announced, seemingly out of the blue, that Bucky and Steve could stop “being weird” because he was “over Riley” and their breakup, and was ready to “get back out there.”

And, to be fair, they had been being kind of weird… in a general sort of way. Bucky because he had it bad for Sam and had been trying his best to play it extra cool since the breakup, which admittedly was only coming off extra awkward, and Steve because, like most of Sam’s friends and family, he was almost inappropriately happy to see the long overdue end to that relationship, but was trying not to actually say so to Sam’s face. 

So, yeah, Bucky definitely knew that if ever there was a perfect time to make a play for Sam, it was probably right after Sam announced he was single and ready to mingle, but he still needed a minute. Bucky had spent a long time fantasizing about asking Sam out (and all the ways it could go right… and wrong). Steve was just going to have to give him time to reconcile himself to the fact that he finally did have a real chance to get with Sam and make those happier fantasies a reality. 

“I’m gonna ask him out,” he finally continued. “I’m just waiting for my moment.”

Steve sighed. “Bucky— 

“Guess, what?” Sam interrupted, suddenly standing and taking off his headphones.

“What?” They said in unison, both watching Sam approach the table and sit down. 

“I have a date.”

“What?” That time only Bucky spoke, and he sounded… scandalized, for lack of a better word. 

Sam’s eyes narrowed slightly at Bucky’s tone, but he answered. 

“Yeah, some guy on IG has been in my DMs for a while now, just being friendly or whatever, but he asked me out a minute ago. Guess he saw that I deleted all my pics with Ri,” he added, somewhat wryly. “Anyways, he asked if I wanted to go to get dinner—

“And you said yes?” Bucky cut in, sounding just this shy of disgusted.

“Yup.” 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?” He asked, in what he hoped was a normal tone.

It wasn’t.

“No,” Sam said, slowly.

And, okay, Bucky didn’t think it was too soon either. Obviously. He just hadn’t known what else to say… well, what else to say that wouldn’t completely expose him and his feelings.

“It’s just dinner, man.”

“Yeah, Buck, it’s just dinner,” Steve said, and had the nerve to be smirking.

“I know. I just don’t want you to rush into anything and get hurt,” he said, lamely, trying to backtrack. 

It worked though. Sam sent him one of those heart stopping smiles, and nudged his knee under the table.

“I won’t.”

******

Just dinner, barely dinner, Sam thought, as he leaned against the side of a building, finishing off his hot dog. 

He and Brian had agreed to meet in front of a store a couple of blocks away from Sam’s apartment. Brian wanted to pick Sam up, but Sam wasn’t about to invite some stranger off the internet to his place the first time they met. So, they settled on a neutral spot that wasn’t far from “a cute little place” Brian knew about.

That “cute” place turned out to be a hotdog cart. And, if Sam was being honest, he’d kind of wanted to laugh and turn around the second he realized that Brian wasn’t joking about this being where they were getting dinner. He wasn’t stuck up, and he wasn’t expecting to be wined and dined by a stranger, but there had to be a happy medium between lobster and a three dollar hotdog…

Sam pushed his surprise and disappointment aside though, and decided to give it a chance. After all, Brian was just as fine in person as he was in his pictures, and, shallow though it may have been, that did count for something. 

“So,” Brian said, after inhaling his hotdog. “What did you think? It was great, right?”

It was a hotdog, Sam thought, sarcastically, but managed to work up a smile. 

“It was good.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, this was one of me and my ex’s favorite spots; we used to come here all the time.”

Oh. Alarm bells started going off in Sam’s head.

“We met here actually,” he continued, a dreamy far off look in his eyes. “We were both on our lunch breaks, and ended up talking.”

“That’s nice,” Sam said, wondering just what the hell was happening. 

“It was nice,” Brian agreed, sounding almost dazed. “Troy is nice, or, at least, he was…” he said, and then launched into a not so brief history of his failed relationship.

Sam kept a polite smile on his face for as long as he could, but when it became obvious that Brian’s impromptu monologue wasn’t about to stop anytime soon, he felt around in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“One sec, man. My phone keeps vibrating,” he lied. “Someone must be texting me.”

Sam made a show of putting in his password and opened his message thread with Steve. He pretended to read for a second, then shook his head and started frowning. 

“Sorry, Brian, I have to go.”

Brian at least looked concerned. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, one of my roommates locked his keys in the apartment and our other roommate isn’t answering the phone, so I need to go let him in,” he fibbed easily, almost impressed with himself. 

“I can go with you, and—

“No,” Sam cut in, quickly. “Steve’s weird about company,” he explained, and it sounded lame to his own ears, but he didn’t really care.

“This was fun though,” he added, because apparently he couldn’t stop lying at that point. “Thank you for dinner.” Even though I’m gonna have to eat again when I get home. 

“You’re welcome.” Brian smiled brightly. “Maybe we can do this again.”

Listen to you wax poetic about your ex again while my stomach growls and my feet fall asleep from standing still for thirty minutes? Not with a gun to my head. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Sam nodded. “Well, see ya,” he said, gave a small wave, and then practically jogged away. 

Well, that sucked, he thought, as he walked home, but then something occurred to him that had him perking up a bit.

I got my first post-Riley date out of the way. I’ve officially moved on.

Even though Sam had initiated their breakup, and for good reasons, he had still spent the first couple of weeks afterward melancholic as hell, wondering if he had made a mistake. He had initially missed Riley, even if he knew he shouldn’t have, but after a few more Riley-free, and therefore peaceful, weeks, Sam was feeling better and ready to date again.

He had still been concerned that his first post-breakup date would be hard though, but it had been surprisingly easy. Well, until Brian went off on that tangent about his ex. 

This one was a bust, but the next one might not be, he thought, smiling softly. Either way, I’m ready for it.

******

“Why are you in here slamming stuff?”

Bucky jumped about a foot in the air and had to resist the urge to scream; he had not heard Sam walk in the front door, let alone the kitchen.

“I’m not,” he lied, then made a point of carefully shutting the cabinet he was looking in. 

Sam raised his eyebrows, but didn’t question him further, thankfully. It wasn’t like Bucky could say: I’mthrowing a tantrum because you were on a date, which is exactly what Steve had accused him of five minutes earlier, right before he left their apartment in annoyance.

“What are you doing back so soon anyway?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant and almost pulling it off. “I thought you and Liam were going to hang out.”

Sam scoffed. “That’s funny, so did I,” he said, and headed for the living room. 

Bucky was right on his heels though. Now that he wasn’t too busy being caught up in his own feelings to get a good look at Sam, he could see that his friend was lowkey pissed. Well, maybe not pissed, but definitely kind of irritated.

“What happened, Sammy?”

“Nothing really,” he answered, and sat on the couch. 

“Tell me.” Bucky dropped down onto the couch, far closer to Sam than he probably should’ve. “Or I’ll show up at your job tomorrow and ask Mr. Muscles myself,” he threatened, tone just ridiculously dramatic enough to almost pull a smile out of Sam. 

“Your no boundaries having ass probably would.” 

“You know it.” Bucky grinned, and that time Sam smiled right back. “So you might as well tell me now.”

“Fine.” He huffed. “Like I said, I thought we were just gonna hang out, but Liam obviously thought we were gonna hook up, because he was all over for me from the moment I stepped in his apartment.” Sam shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “The only reason I agreed to go over there in the first place is ‘cause we work together and he’s not some random dude from a dating app, but that didn’t matter.”

And, okay, now Bucky really was thinking about paying the guy a visit. 

“He didn’t try anything did he?”

Sam gave him a look, and sort of laughed. “Yeah, Bucky, he tried plenty. I’m okay though, if that’s what you mean.” He shrugged. “He wasn’t creepy, really, just very enthusiastic and very confused. Once I shut him down, he wasn’t a complete asshole about it or anything, even though I could tell he was kinda annoyed. He even asked if I still wanted to hang out and play Madden, but I wasn’t really feeling it anymore, and I’m pretty sure he just called himself being polite or something, so I cut out.”

“What a jackass,” Bucky said.

“Yeah.” Sam sighed. “He was definitely a waste of time.”

“You dating is a waste of time,” Bucky mumbled, without meaning to, and had to thank God it was basically incoherent.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just sorry it didn’t work out,” he added, trying to cover, and was surprised his nose didn’t start growing. 

“Me too,” Sam said, ruefully. “It’s cool though, I have a date with a guy from one of my classes next week. Who knows, maybe the third time will be the charm.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Bucky said, sinking further into the couch. 

He was trying to put on a good face, for Sam’s sake, but just like he’d done when Sam had gone to meet Brian and Liam - hell, just like he’d done every single time Sam had walked out their door to meet Riley - Bucky couldn’t help but hope that this upcoming date would be so awful that it would be the last.

He knew it was selfish, and he didn’t want Sam to be miserable. Of course, he wanted Sam to be happy. He just wanted Sam to be happy with him. 

******

Unbeknownst to Sam, Bucky was getting his wish, because the third time was definitely not the charm.

Sam couldn’t call it. Martin had always seemed so nice in their one shared class, serious and the classmate most likely to make class run over by asking extra questions, but nice and polite nonetheless. 

So when he asked Sam out, Sam had readily agreed. And this time Sam picked the location, a restaurant, and offered to go dutch, so he knew that whatever happened he wouldn’t end the night hungry or uncomfortable in somebody’s home. 

Everything should have gone well, and it did go well… until the waitress sat Martin’s steak down in front of him.

First it was too rare and Martin had asked for medium rare, so he sent it back. Then when she brought it to the table again, it was too medium and not pink enough. He spent a solid three minutes explaining, in excruciating detail, how badly prepared it was. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” the waitress apologized, when Martin finally paused for a breath. “Can I take this away and have the chef prepare you another one?” she offered. 

Sam frowned down at his own, probably cold, food that he hadn’t yet touched, and had to bite his jaw to keep from going off.

Sam’s daddy had made steak for dinner at least one Sunday a month throughout his entire childhood, and it wasn’t like all the Wilsons liked their steak cooked the same way. His granddaddy only wanted his “danced around the fire,” the bloodier the better. His granny and mama insisted their steaks be well done. In fact, anyone under eighteen got a well done steak too, whether they wanted it that way or not. However, Sam’s daddy only ate them medium rare, and he was damn particular about it. So, yeah, Sam knew a medium rare steak when he saw one.

Martin’s steak was perfect from jump. Sam didn’t know what kind of weird power play he was trying to do with the waitress, or why Martin kept looking at him like he was supposed to find his superior tone cute, because the whole situation was embarrassing as hell. 

“I don’t know, can you?” Martin finally responded, snidely. “Because you certainly haven’t been able to correctly relay my order to the chef so far, have you?”

And, oh. Okay. That was about all Sam could take. He had never left someone sitting in the middle of a restaurant, but there was a first time for everything.

“Ma’am,” Sam said quietly, but seriously, as he rose from his seat. “I’d like to apologize on behalf of my… acquaintance,” - he wouldn’t call him his date, not after that little scene - “and thank you for your wonderful service.”

Martin stared at Sam, an almost comically shocked look on his face, but Sam ignored him, pulled out his wallet, and continued to address the waitress, Susan. 

“Here.” Saying a silent “thanks” to his dad for teaching him to always carry emergency cash when he was going out, Sam opened his billfold and took out enough cash to cover his meal and leave her a generous tip, well over twenty percent. “Again, I’m really sorry about all of this.”

“Thank you,” she said, genuinely, and for the first time since her most recent trip to their table, she didn’t look like she wanted to disappear. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” Sam smiled softly. “You have a nice night,” he said, then waited until she walked away to spare a glance in Martin’s direction. 

“You lose my number.”

“Sam, wait—

Martin started to speak, but Sam didn’t bother sticking around to listen. Instead, he headed straight for the exit without a second thought for that asshole’s feelings.

If this was dating, Sam didn’t want it.