Three men, a van and an empty flat
Torres stared at the names of the stops while his left foot nervously tapped on the ground. After two stops, he took out his phone and checked the time. No new text but he nonetheless unlocked the device and the message app appeared on screen.
ME
I just got out! I'll probably be late sorry >.<
BUCKY
Np! Take your time we're waiting for you
He checked the time again. That was already from fifteen minutes ago - and by then he had been on the way for ten more minutes. He briefly closed his eyes. He really hated himself right now. He counted the stops again. Three more. Just three more. He was still taping his foot on the subway's wagon floor. Two more. He had not even bothered to take a seat despite the fact his trip was meant to last several minutes. In a stupid way (but one he couldn't stop his mind from indulging in), standing made the trip last shorter. His stop, finally.
Joaquín burst out of the public transportation and ran. He arrived shortly after at the building. He grabbed his phone - because, obviously, he didn't even take this time being stuck in the subway to remember Bucky's floor and apartment's number.
"Third floor, n°57," he whispered to himself. "Got it."
The front door was opened and the grey van was parked next to it. He climbed the stairs two by two and ended up in a long corridor. He didn't have time to look at the number - Bucky waved at him.
"Over here!"
Joaquín let out a sigh of relief and refrained from running to his crush friend. The apartment's door was being kept open by Bucky staying in the way. The young man took a peek inside to see Sam picking up a box from the floor and waved at him.
"Hey, Joaquín! Finally joining us, I see!"
The man chuckled. Torres shot a quick glance at Bucky - who, presently, stood really close to him.
"Yeah, well, I mean... A supersoldier and Captain America. You guys totally needed my help."
Sam kept laughing as he passed between the two of them with the box in his arms. Their eyes followed him. He had taken off his jacket and his muscles rolled under his shirt. So nonchalant, thought Torres, so cool. As soon as he disappeared inside the staircase, however, Bucky's attention went back on him.
"I'm happy you were able to make it," he said softly.
Joaquín's cheeks felt like burning but it was surely the aftereffect of his run. Or his fanboy crush on the Falcon turned freaking Captain America. He shifted on his feet to help clear his throat, though.
"Yeah, sure. So, er, how can I help?"
"Right. Come in."
Bucky guided him inside. The brunet had warned him beforehand that there wouldn't be much to pack and take away but the flat was already almost empty, save for the couch, the big TV screen and two small boxes - glancing at the bedroom, he also saw a pile of bedsheets. Bucky tried to offer him a glass of water before he remembered the glasses were already in Sam's van. They both had a weird laugh. Then Bucky grabbed the boxes and told Joaquín to take care of the bedsheets.
"You don't want to put those in a box?" asked the younger one, "Or you know, wrap them in something?"
"Nah, don't worry. It's just for the trip. I'm gonna use them as soon as we'll arrive."
The owner of the grey van was waiting for them outside. They put the stuff inside the truck and Bucky asked Joaquín to watch over the car while he and Sam would go pick up the couch.
"Except if you want to do it?" asked Sam, grinning.
Joaquín might have been young and naive, he wasn't going to fall for that so easily.
"No, no, go get it, Cap!" he replied like a cheerleader.
Sam sighed and shook his head while Bucky didn't try to hide his delight. It didn't take them long to come back with the couch and the TV screen on top and Joaquín helped them moved around to load it without breaking anything.
"So, where are you moving in, now?" Joaquín asked as Bucky leaned on the van and tenderly watched Sam catch his breath.
"Delacroix," answered the ex-assassin.
"With Sam?" the curly haired asked jokingly - but he couldn't ignore the pinch in his stomach at that mental picture.
"Oh, no. I mean, I would, but Sam doesn't want to share his bathroom with me."
Joaquín frowned, unsure. But then Sam stood up and glared at Bucky before sighing very loudly and very significantly.
"Please, don't listen to him," he said. "Of course he's going to live in my house."
Bucky stood aside from the van.
"But it's only temporary."
Looking at the small military guy, he caught Joaquín's silent question and licked his lips as he prepared his explanations.
"Put briefly, that appartement came with the mandatory therapy and since I've pretty much dropped that one, the gov is kicking me out of my home. But honestly, I didn't want to stay either. Meanwhile, Sam has finally decided to get off his sister's back so I'll stay at his place until I find something."
What came out of his mouth, Joaquín didn't know why he let it happen.
"Oh, you could have told me! I'd have let you crush at my place."
He thought he spotted Bucky blushing but Bucky was always a bit red when people were being nice to him - and then Sam's voice had the brunet turned to him and that faint blush vanished as quickly as it came.
"Torres, your place is like the size of my kitchen. It's kind of you but you would have gotten on each other's nerves real fast."
Sam turned his back on them to close the two panels of his van's truck door, making sure it was locked. Bucky watched him. Say something ! Torres thought. The brunet was about to leave and who knew when they'd get to see each other again? He opened his mouth - but Wilson spoke first.
"OK, Buck, I'll be back in one, two hours top. I'll text you."
And he climbed into the front seat and started the engine. As he drove away, Joaquín turned to the ex-assassin.
"Where is he going?"
Bucky shrugged.
"Don't care. Didn't listen. Cap business or something."
Yeah, sure. He didn't 'listen'.
"Are you coming or what?"
Joaquín jumped - he hadn't noticed Bucky had started walking away.
"I am... where?"
Bucky lowered his eyes and made a vague gesture with his hand.
"Have a coffee. Or something. I don't care, you heard Sam, I have two hours to kill."
"Oh."
Joaquín beamed a smile - and Bucky turned briefly red again. The sun, probably.
*
Despite the truck being loaded, there wasn't much noise inside the van. As Sam took a turn that would lead them outside the city for good, he asked:
"Joaquín and you didn't get too bored?"
Bucky was staring outside the window. He didn't move and his voice seemed a bit off, high-pitched. As much as he was trying to act casual, his voice betrayed his nervousness.
"No... I showed him my favorite place. And er, Leah, a friend - I mean she's working there - er, I got to talk to her one last time."
She started by teasing him about actually coming in during the opening hours before stopping short as she spotted Joaquín - and when she asked him his name, her smile turned even more wickedly. The whole time they stayed there, she shot him insistent looks. He almost regretted talking about Joaquín to her that other night.
"T'was nice. And after that, we went for a walk, in the parc. Yeah, no, we didn't get bored."
"Great, glad to hear it. I'm sorry, by the way, it took me longer than I expected."
Bucky glanced at him and Sam took his eyes off the road one second to meet his gaze. Sam was obviously tired.
"I just hope it was worth it," replied the brunet. "I know how they tend to cut those interviews to have them say what they want and not what you actually said."
Sam nodded and fell silent. They continued their trip for one more hour before Bucky couldn't stand it anymore:
"Stop the car."
Sam blinked.
"What? Why?"
"Stop the car," repeated Bucky. "Sam, you are exhausted. Give me the wheel!"
"I'm not and you don't know the road."
The brunet brandished his phone.
"It's called a GPS and I already went to your home, remember? Stop the fricking car, Samuel."
Reluctantly, Sam exited the highway and parked the car on a rest area so they could trade places. Sam forced himself to stay awake - just to prove he wasn't that tired - but he quickly started dozing off. 'Land of Love' by Ink Spots started playing, coming from Bucky's phone and he chuckled.
"You and your old music."
Bucky, who had his hand on the gear level, moved it to pat Sam's knee.
"Shut up and sleep."
Two songs later, Sam Wilson was deeply asleep. Bucky shot him frequent glances, biting his lips. His whole life was becoming increasingly complicated - but somehow equally if not more enjoyable.