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Bucky always thought that Steve looked utterly ridiculous in the suit.
It looked like a Halloween costume.
It looked like someone cut the flag into pieces and stuck on armor.
It looked like he got lost in a circus and came out look like a red, white, and blue cannonball.
He told Steve that several times in fact. Of course, very few shared that sentiment.
Personally, he thought Steve liked it that way. Someone to see past the suit. Only a few that could see pass the ridiculous.
Peggy could. His fellow commandos could. Most of his teammates could. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a lot of people.
Freely, Sam said that he was fooled by the suit at first until he saw Steve as a stalker and claimed that he just wanted to stare at his ass. It was hilarious to listening to that exchange.
“I wasn’t a stalker,” Steve shouted.
“Dude, I have been running that route for years. Believe me, you had to double back a few times. I knew my ass was fine but I didn’t know enough to stalk it,” Sam shouted from the kitchen.
“You do have a fine ass. I can attest to that,” He shouted from his place on the sofa.
“See?”
“I wasn’t stalking. And Buck doesn’t count in this conversation. He has a bias.”
“Of course, he has a bias. He wants to get laid. Yes, you were stalking. My question is…was it my ass or you being a troll to a poor man on his morning run?
“Mostly, trolling you,” Steve mumbled.
“Hands off, Steve,” He said as he threw popcorn at Steve from the sofa.
“I wouldn’t dream of taking Sam,” Steve said with a straight face.
“Don’t worry, love. I like your ass better than Steve’s ass. His is nothing but a bubble,” Sam shouted.
“I notice that too,” He said with a smile.
“That is Captain America’s ass that you two are talking about.”
“Still a bubble.”
He looked at Steve carefully.
“Yup, a bubble. The outfit only makes it worse.”
Steve started throwing popcorn at both.
He and Sam never laughed so hard in their lives.
While the suit made Steve’s ass look like a bubble, the new suit only highlight Sam’s ass. He did threaten to burn it when he saw it.
Sam laughed and kissed him.
Beside the ass, Steve and Sam’s suits were different. Steve’s suit changed to match the time period. Sam changed to fit who he was.
Sam said if he was going to jump out of planes, he was going to smarter than a white boy best friend and his Winter Solider husband. He wanted to have something strapped to his back.
He was kind of insulted then Sam shook his head.
He said he took the mantle of Captain America, but he will always be the Falcon. He didn’t want lost that part of himself. He wanted to bring it with him.
That was his husband. That was the type of man he was.
Of course, once Sam got the suit on, there was some similarities.
He saw Steve but he also saw Sam. Both men carried the same weight. Steve carried it in his shoulders. Sam carried it in his eyes.
Everything else was different. Instead of fabric and armor, his fingers trance the metal plates on Sam’s chest. Instead of a helmet, his eyes memorized the red tint of his goggles.
Instead of dirt, sweat, and Dial soap, he smelt metal, sweat, and Irish Spring. Instead of silence, he heard the clicks of Redwing and his wonderful flock.
Instead of the taste of death and desperation, his lips against his love’s lips.
He tasted hope and a bit of fear.
There will always be fear in their line of work.
When he broke away, Sam smiled softly at him.
“Like what you see?”
“Love what I see.”
End