Save the Best for Last

Sam hadn’t even been gone an hour, but Bucky was watching the door like a hawk anyway. Seemingly trying to will Sam to come back home. 

When Steve walked in from his room, and caught him glaring at their front door as if it had personally offended him, he sighed and joined him on the couch.  

Frankly, Bucky wanted to ignore him and keep up his… door vigil, but eventually he turned away to face Steve. 

When he saw Steve’s expression, he had to suppress a sigh of his own.

Christ. He has on his “Steve Rogers is about to tell you about yourself” face.

“You know, that could be you out with Sam right now.”

“Don’t start,” Bucky said, but he already knew Steve wasn’t about to listen.

“If you weren’t such a chicken,” he added. 

“I’m not chicken,” he snapped. “I’m just biding my time.”

“Yeah,” Steve snorted, “and how’s that working out for you? Sam’s out with a guy who looks like he solves equations by day, and solves crime by night, and you’re sitting alone on the couch with a warm beer in your hand.”

“Not alone anymore,” he mumbled, in a voice that let Steve know just how he felt about his company.

“It's not too late though,” Steve continued, as if he hadn’t heard Bucky. “As soon as he gets home, make your move.”

“What if he’s having a great time with this guy? What if they’re lining up date number two as we speak?”

“What if they are?” Steve shrugged. “It doesn’t mean you can’t ask Sam out too. He’s dating around, not getting married.”

“I know that, but—

“But nothing. You can’t sit around moping if you’re not even gonna try, Buck. I mean, what’s the use in being sad if you don’t even know yet whether he’d be open to dating you?”

Bucky sighed. He knew Steve was right. It wasn’t like Sam had turned him down. He still had a chance, if he’d just take it already. 

“Shoot, for all you know, Sam’s waiting on you to ask him out,” he said, and bumped his shoulder against Bucky’s. 

“Yeah, sure—

Bucky started to speak, but was interrupted by the front door opening and then quickly slamming shut.

“I take it, it didn't go well,” Steve said, dryly, when Sam walked into the room. 

“That’s an understatement.” He laughed, humorlessly. “Turns out, Martin is a prick.”

“What’d he do?” Bucky asked, sitting up in his seat. 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t really want to talk about it, but suffice it to say I won’t be showing my face at that restaurant again anytime soon.”

Steve grimaced. “That bad huh?”

“Bad enough to make me reconsider going on any other dates for a hot minute,” he said, before sitting in the recliner. 

“You can’t give up already, Sam. Who knows, you might be closer to finding the right person than you think,” Steve said, and shot Bucky a look. “Anyway,” he added, standing abruptly, “I have the early shift tomorrow, so I’m gonna go ahead and turn in.”

Sam glanced at his watch. “It’s eight-thirty, man.”

“I know, but I’m really tired,” he said, then faked a yawn. “Bucky’s off tomorrow though; you can drown your sorrows with him,” he suggested, then sent Bucky another not so subtle look.

“Get him a beer, Buck.” He yawned again for good measure, then headed towards his room, calling out, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” as he went. 

It took everything in Bucky not to throw the pillow he was leaning on at Steve’s retreating form. He held in the impulse though, and made himself meet Sam’s gaze.

“Uh do you want a beer?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that… or something stronger.”

That was all it took for Bucky to get up and grab a couple of shot glasses and the bottle of UV they had left over from their last game night. He brought both items over to their coffee table and poured them each some vodka. 

“Same time?” Bucky asked, raising his glass. 

“Same time,” Sam said, then they looked at each other and slammed them back. 

“We gotta start investing in better liquor,” Sam said, grimacing as he wiped his mouth. 

Bucky snorted and poured them each another drink, and then quickly downed his. If he was really going to do this, he definitely needed another shot of liquid courage. 

“So… are you really done with dating?” 

“I don’t know, man.” Sam sighed and reached for his glass. “I mean, I don’t want to be, but if these guys and Riley are representative of what’s out there, then I might as well go ahead and cancel my plans with Noah, for the weekend after next, now.”

Nothing would’ve made Bucky happier than Sam calling off his date with Noah, but he didn’t want Sam to give up on dating completely. Not when he hadn’t even gotten his chance to sweep Sam off his feet.

“Shit, I wasn’t expecting everything to go perfectly, but I thought I’d at least get some enjoyment out of these dates.” He laughed without humor. “But they’ve just gone from bad to worse.”

“You’ve only been on three.”

“And it feels like three too many.”

“I get that,” Bucky said. “But that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

“I don’t know, Buck,” he said, and that time he sounded more sad than frustrated, and it made Bucky’s heart sort of clench in his chest. “I mean, no, I’m not ready to give up all together, but maybe a break is in order.”

“Or maybe you just need to have some fun?”

“Fun would be nice,” he said, and poured himself another drink. 

Bucky sucked in a breath. It was now or never.

“Hey, uh… what if we went out?”

“We go out all the time,” Sam said, looking confused. 

“Yeah, no, I know we do,” Bucky said, trying not to flush. “But I’m… I’d…” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to—

“Buck?” Sam questioned, looking just shy of concerned. 

“Sam, Sammy,” he bit his lip, then, “will you go out with me?”

Sam looked, frankly, stupefied. Part of Bucky wanted to choke up and pretend he’d never spoken, but he forced himself to keep talking. 

“I’m not promising it’ll be perfect, but I am promising that I’ll do my best to show you a good time - I’ll do my best to treat you the way you deserve, Sammy.” He leaned forward and grabbed Sam’s hand. “I… I… care about you so much, and have for so long. Please go out with me?” He asked again, not caring if he sounded close to begging (even though he was sure he might care later). “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Sam’s head was spinning. Sure, years ago when they first met, Sam had thought he noticed Bucky looking, and he’d definitely been doing some looking of his own. Things were… weird between them at first - tense, awkward. Charged. Sam hadn’t been sure if Bucky’s attitude was because he had a thing for him and was handling it like a five year old, or because he was jealous of his best friend’s new best friend and was handling it like a five year old. 

He waited a little while for Bucky to say something, to tip his hand either way, but he never did. After a few weeks, Sam had started dating Riley and suddenly Bucky had dropped the attitude, and they eventually fell into an easy friendship. Sam hadn’t exactly known what to make of Bucky’s abrupt change in behavior, but he wasn’t about to complain about it either. They’d been thick as thieves ever since. 

Years had passed, and Bucky had never once given the impression that he had feelings for him beyond friendship. Although, to be fair, he had spent a good chunk of that time giving Sam’s boyfriend the evil eye, but so had Steve… and Rhodey… and Sam’s daddy, so, really how was Sam supposed to know it meant anything beyond, “I don’t like your boyfriend?” 

Well I guess I know now, he thought, and had the strongest and most inappropriate urge to laugh, but he wouldn’t do that to Bucky, especially not when he was sitting there biting his lip, looking like Sam’s answer could make or break him. 

“I don’t think I would be disappointed,” Sam said, carefully. 

“But,” Bucky prompted. 

“But… I don’t want this to screw up things between us. You’re one of the most important people in my life,” he said, earnestly. “I mean, what if we go out and hate it and things get all awkward between us afterwards?”

Bucky was fairly sure he wouldn’t hate it, so he figured Sam was really saying: what if I hate it?  

And, yeah, that would break his heart, but he would never hold that against Sam. He wasn’t asking for Sam to guarantee things between them would blossom into some big fairytale romance, he was just asking for Sam to give him a chance, and he said as much.

“All I’m asking for is a chance. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out.” He forced himself to shrug nonchalantly. “But what if it does work out, Sammy? What if I can make you happy?”

“You already do,” Sam answered honestly, without even really thinking about it. The words just sort of flew out of his mouth automatically. And the answering smile on Bucky’s face, the way he was just… beaming at him, more than anything, convinced Sam to say yes.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go out with you.”

“Really?”

Sam did laugh then. “Yeah, man, really.”

“You’re not gonna regret this,” Bucky promised.

He was still grinning like a fool, and his obvious enthusiasm was contagious. Sam was beginning to be pretty sure he wouldn’t regret it either. 

******

“Do you care if we park here and walk the rest of the way?” Bucky asked.

They were sitting in his mom’s old station wagon. Neither of them owned a car, it wasn’t like they needed one in the city, but since their destination was in the sticks Bucky had to call in a favor. Sam had grinned when he saw it double parked in front of their apartment, called out, “not the grey ghost,” and happily got into the passenger side. 

The ride was relaxed, there was none of the awkward silences Bucky had been slightly worried about. It was just like any other time they had hung out, comfortable and fun, only better because Sam was dressed in his date clothes and looked even better than he usually did.

“Nah that’s fine,” Sam finally answered. He had been distracted trying to figure out where they were even going. “I don’t mind walking.”

“Cool,” Bucky exhaled, and pulled into a spot. He had a couple of surprises lined up, and was happy things were already going to plan. 

“Let’s turn here,” Bucky said, after they’d walked a couple of blocks.

As soon as they rounded the corner, he heard Sam practically gasp and had to keep a smirk from gracing his face.

“You brought me to a car show? A Chevy car show?” He asked excitedly, as he glanced down the street.

It wasn’t a car show, really. When Bucky had been looking up stuff they could do near their ultimate destination, he’d seen that a car club had their weekly “drive-in” around the corner from their date spot, and knew he had to take Sam. No, Sam wasn’t a gear-head per se, but the Wilsons only drove Chevrolets, and Sam had helped his father restore a beat down 1970 Corvette when they were in high school, and Sam’s childhood bedroom was covered with pictures of the type of classic Impala that Sam planned to buy when he had a real job and a real income. So, yeah, Bucky thought he might enjoy the drive-in. 

It was nice to see he was right. 

“Man, Buck, check out this Impala,” he said, and made his way over to a 1969 SS. 

Bucky followed dutifully behind him, and listened for the next hour while Sam explained the different models to him, but eventually he had to move them along.

“You ready for the next thing?” He asked, and Sam smiled.

“Yup, but I don’t know how you’re gonna top this,” he said, taking one last picture of a ‘67 Camaro. 

“Well, I don’t know if it’ll top it, but I think you’ll enjoy it too.”

“I’m sure I will,” Sam said, and took a chance and grabbed Bucky’s hand. 

Bucky seemed surprised, but laced their fingers together when he realized that Sam wasn’t planning on letting go. 

Hand in hand they walked down the street and over a couple of blocks, and then Bucky steered them in front of a big building and came to a stop.

“Wheeldon Winery?” Sam asked, looking at the sign, and slid Bucky a look. “How did you know?”

Bucky was fighting a blush when he answered. 

“I was on the couch when T’Challa was over telling you about taking Nakia here and, I don’t know, you seemed into it, like you might want to go.”

Sam knew from talking to T that the tours here weren’t exactly cheap. Between the car show that seemed tailor made to Sam’s taste and him remembering a random conversation enough to know that Sam wanted to visit the winery, Sam was touched. 

“Thanks Bucky,” he said, softly, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

Bucky just about swallowed his tongue, but managed to keep it cool enough to lead Sam inside. They did the tour and Sam paid such close attention that Bucky wondered if he thought he was going to be quizzed on it later. 

When they made it to the end, Sam started to head towards the exit, but Bucky gave him a grin and pulled him towards a side door. It opened onto a deck that held a band and a cart where an employee was selling chilled bottles of wine. 

“So, you wanna hang for a minute?” Bucky asked, shyly. 

“Of course,” Sam said, gamely. “You gotta let me buy the wine though.”

“Umm no,” Bucky said, laughing. “I asked you out, so I’m treating.”

He pulled Sam over to the cart and bought them a bottle each of the Blush Rose Blend and the Red Blend. They sat down at one of the small tables long enough to sample a glass, but then Sam was tugging Bucky onto the dance floor. The band seemed to know every wedding reception standard from the past three decades, and were good enough to keep the dancefloor pretty packed. Sam led them to the most secluded corner he could find, that wasn’t exactly secluded at all, and Bucky immediately wrapped his arms around Sam.

They swayed to a pretty decent cover of “Lucky,” and even though Bucky thought the lyrics were a little too on the nose, to the point that he felt a blush creeping up his neck, he couldn’t stop himself from grinning when Sam practically melted into him. 

The song was over quicker than Bucky would’ve liked, but Sam seemed content to stay on the floor through the next number… and the one after that… and the one after that.

When he finally led Bucky back to their table, he had a sheepish little smile on his face.

“Sorry if I got carried away,” he said, once they had sat down and Bucky poured them each another drink. “I just haven’t been dancing in so long.”

“Really?” He asked, like he didn’t already know that. Like he hadn’t picked a night that the winery was doing one of their Groovin’ in the Garden concerts on purpose, because he once heard Sam say, a couple of years ago, how much he liked to go dancing but never really got to because it wasn’t Riley’s cup of tea.

“Yeah, really.” Sam snorted and sent him a look. “But from that smirk on your face, I’m guessing you already knew that. Just like you seem to know everything about me.”

“Not at all,” he said, then added, without missing a beat, “but I sure would like to.”

And, okay, between the heated look in Bucky’s eyes and the earnest and almost sultry tone of his voice, Sam actually felt his heart skip a beat. 

“I’d like that too,” he replied, softly.

Bucky reached across the table then and grabbed Sam’s hand, and didn’t let go for a very long time.

******

“Walking me all the way to my door,” Sam joked, as they made their way through their front door. “Such a gentleman.”

“Only the best for my date, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Sam said, as he turned towards Bucky.

They were standing face to face in the cramped little foyer, not even a foot apart, but neither one of them were in a hurry to move.

“I had a great time today.”

“So, does that mean you’ll go out with me next Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky let out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding, and took a step closer, closing the already limited distance between them.

“What about Noah?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

Sam rolled his eyes at the jealous lilt to Bucky’s voice, before pulling him into a gentle kiss.

“What about him?” He asked, stepping back with a smirk.

Bucky’s smirk matched Sam’s when he grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled Sam right back into his space.

That time there was absolutely nothing gentle about the kiss they shared.