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Bucky had a plane to catch. Leaving too soon was better than staying too long. He watched the clock with a growing pit in his stomach. He could admit to himself in the privacy of his own unhappiness that he didn’t want to go even if he couldn’t bridge an admission toward the reason his gaze lingered on Sam’s smiles when he faced someone else, why he got quiet the closer he was to Sam as the hours turned.
“Come back soon,” Sam ordered as they hugged goodbye, and it was a little easier to leave knowing he meant it.
****
Sam picked Bucky up from the airport on his next trip out. He didn’t wait for the time to say goodbye to roll around again before hugging him. His arms around him were too tight, maybe, but his grin made up for it and Bucky didn’t complain.
“How you doing, man?” He kept his arm around his shoulders as they headed out. “Can you stay longer this time? Your last visit was short as hell.”
Bucky hesitated, and Sam thought he pushed too hard.
“I can stay longer,” he said after a pause.
Sam let go of him, relaxing. “Good.”
****
Bucky didn’t buckle under the weight of the third box that Sam set on top of the stack in his arms, but he did shoot him a dry look around the pile.
“I’m not actually a mule, you know?”
“Carrying more is efficient,” Sam said as he peered in the back of the open moving truck.
Right. “How many boxes have you carried in so far?”
Their apartment was on the second floor, and Bucky hadn’t passed Sam going up or down them much.
He pretended to consider it. “I lost count.”
“Can you count past zero?” Bucky asked. “I think the count is”—he counted off on his fingers—“yeah, zero.”
Sam took the top box off the pile in his arms with a glint in his eyes. “Alright. Let’s make this interesting. Whoever carries in more boxes wins. Loser does the dishes for a week.”
“Good luck catching up to me.” He’d been muling it up the stairs all morning.
“No, we’re starting from scratch. Level playing field!”
Bucky started to protest, but Sam bolted for the building and it wasn’t worth falling behind. He couldn’t even be mad. He was just happy to be home for good.
****
“I should have implemented a no stacking rule after the bet started,” Sam said as he stared down at the sink and started cleaning up after their dinner. Moving was hard, stressful, and he learned his lesson about placing bets against people with a metal arm. Bucky leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Oh, you’re going to watch. That’s how you’re going to play this?”
“Yeah. Think so.”
“Okay.”
“Hard day. This is restoring my spirit.”
“Fantastic.”
Bucky moved up behind him, hands tight on his waist. “Know what else would restore it?”
Sam smiled.
They forgot about the dishes.