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    Summary

    “Sam went home with Joaquín,” Scott says, around his straw, and then takes a loud slurp of water. It’s jarring, distracting, and not helpful in Bucky’s attempt at processing his words. 

    “He...” Bucky starts, frowns. “He went home with Torres?” The implication behind those words is obvious, but he still hopes he might have heard wrong or somehow be misinterpreting them. The music is pretty loud, and it’s late, he’s tired; he’s not infallible, serum-enhanced hearing and stamina or not.

    Scott nods and smiles, takes his straw out of his mouth and his glass and uses it to punctuate both words when he says, “America’s. Ass.” Then he adds, “Damn, Torres is a lucky guy.”

    Hope takes the straw from Scott and shoves it back in his mouth, shoots an apologetic look at Bucky. No, probably at Sarah. There’s no reason for Hope to feel sorry for Bucky having to hear that. He’s not Sam’s sister, who could be grossed out to hear her brother spoken of in that way, and he’s not Sam’s secretly-in-love with him best friend, who could be heartbroken by it. Except, he is the latter.


    On a night out, Sam and Torres leave together. Bucky fears the worst.

    Series
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