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For the most part, the way their brains worked in sync was a good thing for Bucky and Steve.
But occasionally, just every now and then, it turned against them.
Kind of like now.
"How many flowers did you order?" Steve asked, voice scratchy as he looked around the kitchen, every inch of surface space taken up by vases holding blooming bouquets.
"34" Bucky answered, sounding just as shocked as the blonde, "how many did you order?"
"34" Steve replied with a wince.
Bucky matched it with his own, "so we have 68 bouquets. Stevie, I hate to say it, but I think we went overboard."
Silence fell between them for a beat, and then they were both gasping for breath as they collapsed into hysterics, unable to speak through their laughter.
When they eventually pulled themselves together, they fell silent again as they took in the floral invasion of the kitchen.
"Keep two and take the rest to the nursing home?" Bucky suggested.
Steve nodded "Good plan. Wanna call Sam, make him help?"
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"Why did you both order 34 bouquets anyway?" Sam demanded as they loaded the flowers into the back of Steve's truck.
"It was a special year" Bucky replied snootily, sending a glare Steve's way to make sure he stayed silent.
Sam was silent as they piled into the car, until...
"Wait, is that why one of the, y'know, bad words, was 17?" he asked, before turning to Steve, "and you said, more than once, that it made you feel like a sixteen-year-old . And JB is a year older than you.. did you two idiots buy 34 bouquets of flowers, each , because that was the year you two sexed each other up?!"
Steve and Bucky exchanged sheepish glances, their cheeks flushing at being caught out.
"Oh man" Sam groaned in the back seat, "I don't know if that's sweet or sickening, it's sickeningly sweet is what it is. You two are a cheap candy bar."
"Excuse you!" Bucky protested in offence, "I am a luxury truffle and nothing less!"