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“Steve?” Sam started pulling scrunched up t-shirts from the bag on the bed. “What the hell man?” He rolled his eyes and started unfolding and refolding the warm, thick winter clothes that had been crammed into the bag.
“You organizing me again?” Steve’s arms circled Sam’s waist from behind.
“Yes. I don’t get it? You gonna press these with your jacked, hot blooded body? No excuse for the way you packed these, man.”
“You flatter me,” Steve whispered against Sam’s neck.
“I’m not trying to do any such thing. Do you really think you’re a walking steam press? Look at this mess.” Sure he sounded exasperated, but any fool could see that he was bitching simply for Steve’s benefit.
“Modern textile technology. Knits and jeans don’t wrinkle.”
“You seriously think that’s a thing? That’s blasphemy,” Sam complained. “You really don’t understand science — or fashion — at all do you? The only thing worse is when I had to talk you out of creases in the legs of your jeans.”
“Trousers are trousers.” Steve used the same reply for the nine-thousand-nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth time. “I just don’t think it’s all that important.”
Sam whirled around in Steve’s arms, looking at him critically. “Did you stop tryin’ when I moved in? I think you stopped tryin’. You’d better work on wooing me this weekend.”
“If I can pry the little spylettes offa you.”
“You’re just jealous cos they love their Uncle Sam the best.” Sam pushed playfully at Steve’s chest before moving away to pick up his own bag and sling the strap across his shoulder. “I gotta take it where I can get it; I guess you gotta up your game a little, Rogers.”
A laugh accompanied the thunk of Steve’s bag hitting Sam in the chest. “I have at least an hour and a half to figure it out. Less if you let me drive.”
“Oh, no,” Sam replied, shaking his head at the missed hint. He was going to have to broach the subject of kids again at some point, because his super soldier was dense as his viburnum shield. He discovered he’d unconsciously shouldered Steve’s bag along with his. “Wait, I’m not taking your luggage too. Carry your own bag, Muscles.”
Steve grinned, a full-on nose-scrunching, eye-crinkling (oblivious) smile. “Worth a try.”
< — >
Steve didn't drive to the mountain pass. He sat comfortably in the passenger seat, listening to Sam singing as he drove. The air was crisp and clear and the sky brightly blue, after a fresh overnight load of snow. From the road, they could see Sveta and Jamie, Bucky and Nat’s twins, waving wildly at them from the back of a dark blue pickup loaded with snow tubes.
“Well, they’re already amped up,” Sam observed, pulling into the spot next to the truck.
“Must’ve had a big breakfast,” Steve said, opening his door before Sam could park the car.
“You’re setting a terrible example.” Sam was all but drowned out by happy shrieks of children. “And — I lost him.”
“Hi, Sammy!” Sveta called through the open door. Her smile practically warmed the chilly air that was sucked inside.
“Hi, Little Bird.” Sam waved across the car before Steve closed the door between them. He hurried out of the car, as eager to scoop them up as they were to attack his legs. “Watch out, remember car safety.”
“We know!” Sveta’s nose-scrunch looked all too much like her dad’s and her Uncle Steve’s. It was a learned behavior, and one that melted Sam’s heart every time she unleashed it on him.
Jamie crashed into Steve for a quick hug before launching himself around the car. “Sam! Did you see all the tubes? We got a bunch. Even if Papa said you wouldn’t want one and Uncle Steve would just use his shield.” He looked cautiously into the car before asking, “Are your wings in the back?”
“Your Papa is a problem. A very big, annoying problem. We don’t use our weapons for recreation.”
Natasha was the only one of the three adults who couldn’t keep a snicker at bay. Sam made a note to let her know how proud he was of her attempt, after the kids were out of earshot. And after he teased her about being a master-spy who couldn’t contain a laugh.
“Good to see you made it — not letting Steve drive might have been your smartest call yet, Wilson.” Natasha grabbed Sam in a hug of similar intensity to one of Sveta’s hugs.
“I had to put my foot down,” Sam answered.
“You mean to tell me you can’t fly us to the top of the sledding hill? You know the wings are the only reason we invited you.”
“Can it, Barnes.”
“You wanna help me get the tubes out of the truck Sam?” Jamie hung from Sam’s arm despite his parents both telling him not to. Sam simply encouraged it by wrapping his arm around Jamie’s waist and carrying him around to the bed of the pickup.
“I could do that. Who decided to park at the bottom of the hill so we have to drag these things up to the top?”
“We would have to drag them up to take them home,” Sveta argued, climbing up onto the truck’s bumper.
“You’re too smart.”
“I learned it today. Mama told me.”
“She’s too smart, too.” Sam said, poking Sveta gently in the tummy. He listened to the ruckus of the conversations, the children’s rapid-fire version and the adults’ boisterous ones were easy to distinguish, if not follow. He was used to this kind of chaos, so there was no feeling left out. At any given time, he could pick his way into any conversation whether he was called into it or inspired to speak. He didn’t need either opportunity, not with an uncharacteristically boisterous Natasha pulling a Sveta trick and launching herself onto his back, piggy-back style.
“How’ve you been?” She asked playfully against his earlobe.
“I see the menace fed the lot of you with his high-test pancakes. What’s really in those things? Rocket fuel?”
“You wish, Wilson,” Bucky responded, catching Sveta as she leapt from the pickup after tossing the last tube out onto the snow below. “You’d love to be able to fly that fast.”
“I’ll save the stupid stuff for him. And for you.”
“Don’t encourage him, Sam,” Natasha scolded. “The last thing I need is to have to untrain the next generation.”
“Dear God, no.” Sam knew she had her work cut out, but he figured, so did he, because their mom was also a risk-taker. “How is it I got entangled with you people again?”
“Boredom,” Bucky answered with a ‘light’ punch to Sam’s shoulder. “Desperation.”
“Dammit Barnes. I know you know your own strength, don’t fake amnesia with me, either.” Sam rubbed the soon-to-be bruise with a grimace. Maybe he had enough children with this bunch. Yet, he was still certain he wanted to have it full-time.
Steve put his big, hot hand over the spot. He gripped the opposite arm and commenced rubbing Sam’s down-parka covered biceps. Oblivious, only to certain things then. Sam thought. Maybe not even oblivious at all, but waiting for him to say a thing.
“Hey,” Steve said. “I thought you were looking forward to this.”
“I am. I’m even almost having fun, as much fun as one can have standing in a parking lot.”
“Okay, fine. Bucky, stop hitting Sam.”
“Did you snitch? Wilson, you’re a narc?”
“Who’s been teaching you 60’s slang Barnes? Was that you Tasha?” Sam didn’t miss her shrug. “Don’t do that.”
“We need to go up the hill!” Jamie interrupted with no reduction of excited energy. “Shoulda brought your wings Sam! Guess you gotta put me on your shoulders.”
Sam laughed and swept Jamie up onto his shoulders. “You only have - like - this week before you’re too big for this. What are they feeding you? You’re not goats. Stop eating and growing.”
“We can’t do that. We have to grow and we have to eat or we’ll be hungry. Mama promised us we wouldn’t never be hungry again.”
“Never again, she was right.” Sam could kick himself if he could get his foot out of his mouth. Maybe he wasn’t as ready for this as he thought he could be. “Can you at least slow down the growing part though?”
“Mama says that all the time.” Sveta piped up from atop Steve’s shoulders. “We can’t help it, we go to sleep and wake up taller.”
“Boy do they,” Bucky lamented. “Somebody needs new shoes, new clothes, this is the last snowy outing in those snow-pants too.”
“I guess you could let us stay up later so we can grow slower, Papa, did you think of that?”
“You let me worry about problem solving. Your mom and me anyway.”
“Gee, Steve.” Nat had a twinkle in her eye. “You sure you’re not ready for this kind of thing? I mean, you two have been settled longer than we have.”
“Only by a couple of months,” Steve answered with his usual noncommittal style. Sam watched his feet as they trekked up the hill, dragging tubes behind them. He wasn’t going to let this mood carry him through the day. This was the kids’ idea and he was going to enjoy it.
“We’ll probably just keep the guest room open for your kids, you know, for the time being.” Sam heard himself say. He knew it was him, the frost of his breath hadn’t even settled yet.
The doldrums or self pity were short-lived with the children’s joy and the laughter of the others. These friends from unlikely places had become Sam’s family.
< — >
Steve watched the group, they’d gone up and down the snow-covered hill a half dozen times and were all fidgeting in front of a fire barrel to warm themselves. “Who wants cocoa?”
The ‘Me’ chorus rang clear and unanimous. Unsurprisingly.
“Okay, who’s gonna help? There’s no way I can manage that many hot cups.”
Steve was a little bit surprised and disappointed that neither of the kids volunteered, but only a little. They’d been going hard in the snow, and deserved the warmth. Bucky and Sam volunteered simultaneously.
“Well good luck to you all,” Natasha said with a wink in Steve’s direction.
“They’ll be good,” Steve answered automatically, as though he were talking about the twins when left with him for a parents’ night out. “At least they’ll be good at carrying drinks back.”
“Hey, Steve, you’re working on your ‘dad jokes’, good to hear it.” Bucky looped his arm over Steve’s shoulder. “What about it? You two gonna do the dad thing any time soon? Tasha said you said something about it.”
“We’re not there yet. Sam’s —” Steve looked around to see Sam just breaking away from the hold Sveta had on his hand. “Look how good he is with them. I just — when will he be ready?”
“Maybe neither of you are ready. You can’t even communicate your desires. I thought I was the emotionally stunted one.”
“You are,” Sam said with a well placed fist to Bucky’s right bicep. “But I thought you’d worked through that.”
Steve looked over Sam’s shoulder to Bucky, feeling panicked. What if Sam heard? What if—?
Bucky shrugged and kept talking. “I have, but you haven’t. Don’t you realize I’ve waited almost a century to be an uncle to this lunatic’s offspring. When will you give him children, Sam? When will you fulfill my dreams of being the greatest uncle in the history of mankind?”
“I’m already the greatest uncle — but to answer your question,” Sam looked from Bucky to Steve. Steve felt his entire existence balancing on a fine ledge. “You’ve got to talk to your pal here.”
“Me?” Steve definitely stumbled on that ledge. “How is this my call? Weren’t you the one who said parenthood and what we do don’t mix?”
“And when do you ever listen to anything I say?” Sam squared his shoulders, making him nearly as tall as Steve was in his relaxed slouch.
Bucky waved a hand between them, his metal one — good he was thinking about safety. “C’mon guys, cocoa, remember?”
Steve chewed the side of his lower lip, still watching Sam. He thought he could hear Bucky ordering the drinks, but couldn’t be certain, Sam’s glistening brown eyes weren't wet from the cold, or not entirely so anyway. “You want kids?”
“You do?” The strangled sound that came in the form of Sam’s answer gave Steve gooseflesh. That could definitely not be blamed on the cold this round.
“Okay, this is easy you two. You both want kids, my kids want cocoa. Are we done?”
“Barnes —” Sam snapped without looking away from Steve.
“Bucky, could you give us a minute? Take the twins’ we’ll bring the rest.”
“Whatever you need,” Bucky agreed, paying for the cocoa before he grabbed the small ones for the kids.
“Okay, he’s right? Is he right? We both —”
“Can’t even communicate,” Sam interrupted. “So how can we have children?”
“Communication isn’t necessary.” Steve smoothed his chilled hands over Sam’s arms, the smoothness and chill of the parka fabric were surprisingly reassuring. He was teasing and he knew he’d piqued Sam’s interest.
“You gonna spawn Steve?” Sam’s voice finally had a pleasant, almost happy tone.
“Well, no — of course not. I know we have to figure out who, how, and when. But maybe the when part can start now?”
“You’ve been holding this in?” Sam borough his hands up to Steve’s face. “You’ve been making me keep this in and you’ve been holding onto it?”
Tears glistened on Sam’s eyelashes and Steve blinked his own tears free. “You’ve been? We’ve been stubbornly silent. Why, Sam?”
“You agreed, it wasn’t right for us.”
“You said the world was fucked up and needed our help. I thought you were being serious, not afraid.” Sam eased himself down onto a nearby snow-covered bench. “Maybe we’re too old for this.”
Steve matched Sam’s smile and sat next to him. “That’s cold,” Steve gasped, fidgeting before turning to face Sam. “Well, I’ll admit to being afraid. It’s a big responsibility.”
“I know, and if you’re not ready, I can still hold out. I mean —”
“I’m ready if you are. You know we talked about it before and agreed that someday. Look at them Sam. The kids, with Bucky? Of all people? If we ever have doubts, just remember where Buck was just a few years ago. They’re doing great, the four of them.”
“Yeah, if that death-machine can be a good father, I have nothing to worry about.”
Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Sam.”
Okay, fine. Let’s get fresh cocoa and head down. I have a feeling we have an announcement to make.
< — >
“I can’t wait, Steve. After all the time I spent trying to set you up and see you happy. You finally figured out you needed Sam and now a family.”
“Nat, you never even considered that I was gunning for Sam the whole time?” Steve laughed.
Sam watched the two of them in front of the fireplace in their rented cabin. Bucky was across the room in a chair-and-a-half snuggled up with the kids. Jamie was sucking his left thumb and rubbing Bucky’s sweater with his right hand, while Sveta tried to braid a section of his hair. He would love to sit and braid his child’s hair, or have their fingers in his own and he didn’t have to smash the feeling down.
“Do you want the information for the Russian orphanage?”
“Maybe,” Sam answered before Steve could. “I mean — I know a woman. I’ve spoken to her at the VA. Her son’s a — was a soldier. He leaves a young son behind. Kid’s mom signed away parental rights but the grandmother — she. Well, she told me that she wants what’s best for him, but admits they’d be better off as a grandmother at this point than a parent. She’s a nice lady and strikes me as one of those matchmaker sorts, Steve. I think she’s been trying to talk me into intervening.”
“Well then,” Bucky said quietly from behind a slightly braided strand of bangs. “It’s all downhill from here.”
“Papa, you said that on the tubing hill.”
“Different hill, Zaichik. Although, it’s still accurate.”
“So, we call the grandmother?” Steve asked, excited, naive, and entirely too adorable.
“We call an attorney and figure things out from there,” Sam replied. He took Steve’s hand between his and looked into his eyes for any sign of hesitation before turning to Nat. “Can we get your adoption attorney’s information Natasha?”
“I’ll send it to both of your phones.” Natasha stood from her spot next to Steve and crossed the space to sit on the arm of the chair where her little family sat, half-snoozing in front of the fire. “Tomorrow.”