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“Mr. Wils-- Captain Wil-- Mr. … Captain America,” a frazzled concierge greeted before Sam’s eyes had even adjusted to the light in the hotel lobby.
“Mr. Captain,” Bucky scoffed under his breath at Sam’s side. “That’s a new one.”
Sam jabbed his elbow into Bucky’s ribs.
“There’s been a mistake, Captain,” the concierge said. “We didn’t realize Mr… Sergeant Barnes would be attending with you. We don’t have any more rooms.”
“That’s fine,” Sam said with an easy smile, trying to calm the man down. “He can stay in my room.” He held out his hand and the concierge shook it slowly.
“No, I’m afraid, we didn’t put you in a full suite. It’s just a one-bed room.”
And Sam and Bucky both waited probably too long to respond. Sam was never sure how to approach a subject like that with total strangers. Of all the jarring things he expected from the unfortunate fame of being Captain America, people believing they knew everything about him, when they really didn’t, wasn’t one of those things he could get used to.
“Well, weapons of mass destruction don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” Bucky said, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “Key?”
“Oh my God?” Sam breathed disbelievingly and elbowed his ribs again. “Can you behave?”
The concierge looked like he was about to pass out. “Of course. I’m just so sorry we couldn’t make accommodations. All of the suites were booked by other participants of the conference months ago. I tried to find the best room I could,” he explained absently, too quickly for Sam to try to keep up with. He looked around the foyer as the other man scrambled behind the desk to check him in. Bucky leaned his shoulder against Sam’s back and Sam tracked his eyeline to a table of pastries set out before shrugging him off.
“We literally ate, like, two hours ago,” he said.
“We stopped at a McDonalds and they didn’t even have Sprite. I need a sugar hit.”
“I think that’s biologically impossible for you.”
“Oh, ‘cause I’m a super soldier I can’t want things for myself?” Bucky asked, more facetious than Sam thought could fit into a single voice.
“You’re the worst.”
“Mr. America-- I mean. Mr. Wilson, here’s your keycard and an extra for Mr. Barnes.” The man’s face was so red, Sam started to feel bad for him. “There should be an itinerary of events in your room. If you need anything, call down and let us know. We’re working with the conference organizers and can reach out to them for you as well.”
Bucky reached out for the keys and tapped them on the desk twice before heading to the elevators without waiting to see if Sam was coming or not. Sam shot an apologetic look at the concierge and then followed after Bucky.
“You’re a real asshole, y’know,” he said as the doors opened and they stepped inside the elevator.
“I’m a tired asshole and I’ve been thinking about this bed since you woke me up this morning,” Bucky answered. He dropped his bag by his feet and shook out his arm like the metal could get cramps.
“I don’t know what you’re tired for. I drove most of the way.”
“I’m tired from worrying about you driving.”
Sam snorted. “I’m a much better driver than you.”
“You had to take a break halfway here,” Bucky said. And Sam knew it was bait, but he couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that came from his chest.
“Oh, I had to take a break halfway here?” he asked.
“Yeah, I distinctly remember crossing into Texas, getting through all those pine trees and then you stopping the car on the side of the road.”
Sam backed Bucky into the corner of the elevator. “Is that how you remember it, Barnes?” he asked.
“Why don’t you tell me your version of events, Wilson?” Bucky purred, looking exactly like a cat in the cream as he let Sam crowd him against the wall.
“I remember you begging me to pull over and practically flipping into the backseat. I remember you bein’ half naked before I even got back there. I remember you trying to knock out the window when you wanted us flipped over so you could blow me.”
“I don’t recall any of that,” Bucky said saccharinely, hands going to Sam’s hips to pull him closer. “Remind me again what, exactly, we did.”
Sam rolled his eyes, let his lips graze Bucky’s cheekbone and then stepped back in time for the elevator to ding on their floor. “Maybe later, Barnes,” he teased and grabbed Bucky’s bag before walking out the door. He shot an easy grin at a woman in the hallway, gave a kid a high five, apologized to both for Bucky sulking up behind him.
“Sometimes I hate how good you are at this,” Bucky grumbled behind him as Sam took the keycard from him. He rested his cheek on the back of Sam’s shoulder while Sam fought with the door. It took three tries before it finally swung open, which was enough time for Bucky to have closed his eyes and already started daydreaming. He was not pleased when Sam stepped away, but it was quickly remedied by the sight of the bathroom. He stepped inside, looking at the sleek, granite countertops, the deep sink, the wide showerhead over a huge bathtub.
“I think we could both fit in this tub together, Sammy,” he called.
The thought sent a thrill through Sam’s traitorous body. As much as he wanted to focus on being Captain America and the speech he had to give, more than any of that, he wanted to curl up in the big bed in the middle of the room and let Bucky get back to what they’d been doing four hours ago. He wanted to relax in a giant bathtub while Bucky drew nonsense patterns in the soap on his back. He wanted to check into a hotel and not have to explain that it was no issue that he and Bucky would share a room or even a bed.
Although, one time, it had ended with them pushing two queen sized beds together and then checking out very, very late.
“I can’t imagine what the suites in this place look like if this is just a one-bed room ,” Bucky said, appearing in the bedroom portion of the room.
“Probably just means they have a kitchen and couch,” Sam said. He held out his arm and Bucky grinned, took his hand and let Sam pull him close.
“You got any nerves you need me to work out of you?” Bucky asked, dragging his hands down Sam’s back until he got to his waistband and could start to pull his shirt free.
“A speech is a speech,” Sam said. “More worried about babysitting you in public,” he said with a grin.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the nuisance,” Bucky agreed and finished pulling Sam’s shirt off before making quick work of his own. “But I’m a hot one, so…”
Sam laughed and pushed Bucky back onto a bed that had more than enough room to share. “I think you were trying to recreate our escapades from the road,” he said, climbing over Bucky’s hips until he could press his body along Bucky’s, mouth finding Bucky’s neck, his collarbones, his shoulder.
Just for now, he could be a man in a nice hotel room with his partner and nothing else.
“Are you kidding me?” Bucky asked, loud enough from the bed that Sam heard him over the shower and sink running. He leaned out the bathroom door, one hand curled around the towel at his waist, the other holding a toothbrush in his mouth.
“Whmm?” he asked.
Bucky, still delightfully, distractedly, naked and tangled in the sheets, held up his tablet. “We’re the front page of every celebrity gossip tabloid this morning.”
Sam’s stomach turned over but then Bucky shifted and exposed more of his thigh and the worries flew out of Sam’s mind. He turned and spit toothpaste into the sink. “What for?”
“Captain America and sidekick Bucky Barnes were seen checking into a conference hotel late yesterday afternoon. Sources at the hotel say that while they split a room, there was only one bed,” Bucky read.
“Oh my God,” Sam replied blandly. “There was only one bed.”
Bucky snorted and then continued. “Speculation has run amuck in recent months about the relationship between Wilson and Barnes, especially when they’re between saving the world and chose to lay low along the Gulf Coast. Together.”
“It’s not our fault that no one can put two and two together. You think AJ and Cass are ever not talking about their uncles?” Sam pointed out.
“Yeah, but no one’s taking the word of a ten year old as gospel. Or asking him in the first place.”
Sam laughed softly and shook his head. He finished rinsing out his mouth and came back to the bed, curling around Bucky’s side and kissing his jaw. “Come on. We can think about saying something later. Right now, why don’t you come get in the shower with me?” he suggested, running his hand down Bucky’s chest and kissing his shoulder.
“Or,” Bucky said and smoothed his hand over the bedspread. “You could stay here with me . Make the most use outta something that’s causing us a whole lotta grief,” he countered. And wasn’t that a tempting idea. “Come on, it’s not like we’re payin’ for the water. The shower’ll be there when we’re done.”
Bucky pulled Sam down into that big bed and Sam couldn’t be happier to be sharing it right then.