Work Text:
“I’ll keep you updated,” Bucky says on the phone, soft ‘40s music playing in the background. Sam smiles to himself. It has become Bucky’s favorite act of rebellion to listen to only ‘40s music whenever Sam’s away and Sam finds it incredibly adorable. “Only 20 more minutes to go.”
“Can’t wait,” Sam says, looking over at Steve, who he’s pretty sure is texting Tony. “think we’ll be done in 20 minutes too.”
“Mm, be careful,” Bucky whispers into the phone. “Love you.”
“Yeah, love you too, old man.” Sam smiles softly and hangs up.
He puts his phone on the dashboard and turns to Steve, who sighs pitifully and brings the binoculars up to his eyes, looking at the entrance of the club like he cannot see perfectly without them.
“You okay, Cap?” Sam asks.
“Yeah, Cap,” Steve sighs again. “How’s Buck?” he asks out of politeness like he didn’t already hear the entire conversation.
“He’s good,” Sam answers anyway. “Think he’s finally mastered this sourdough thing, we’ll know for sure in 20 minutes.”
“That’s nice,” Steve says again and he doesn’t sigh, but he says it with such a pitiful voice that Sam has to roll his eyes. “He really loves you.”
“Yeah,” Sam agrees with a soft nod. “I love him too.”
“That’s so nice, having someone to come home to, baking you warm bread.” Steve turns his head to look at Sam with his signature sad smile. “So nice.”
“Yeah,” Sam agrees again, fighting the urge to laugh. “What did Tony want?” he asks instead, pointedly. But of course, the point flies right over Steve’s dumb, beautiful head.
“Oh nothing,” he says, cheeks burning up at the mere mention of Stark. “He invited me to this restaurant he rented out in Brooklyn, probably having a party or something.”
“Oh, and do they have warm bread there?” Sam asks with a smirk he cannot fight off anymore.
“Yes, actually,” Steve says, eyes lighting up. “it’s actually my favorite restaurant, has been around since the ‘30s.”
“Right.” Sam narrows his eyes. “So he rented out the restaurant that happens to be your favorite and just happened to invite you too, to the party that he might be throwing?”
“Yeah,” Steve shrugs. “You know, he’s very eccentric.” And once again, Steve airballs the free throw and misses the point completely.
Sam closes his eyes and takes a couple of calming breaths because they are on a mission and he does not have time for this. There are not many things Sam knows with absolute certainty in this messed up life of his, but one thing he knows with unwavering confidence is that Tony Stark is head over balls in love with Steve and that Steve is an idiot.
-
They finish the mission in thirty minutes and Sam heads back home with Steve in tow, because there are so many sad sighs and dejected smiles Sam can take before asking, “Hey, you wanna come over, stay with us tonight?”
Honestly, Steve is probably the loneliest person Sam knows and he would be sympathetic and supportive of him if Steve wasn’t so lonely by choice, because Sam has never seen anyone offer themselves on a platter more obviously than Tony does to Steve every day, and yet Steve somehow still remains oblivious.
“This is so great,” Steve says as they eat the dinner Bucky has prepared, he’s munching on that sourdough with such vigor that Sam’s a little scared he might choke. “Buck, this bread is amazing. You guys, I'm so happy for you two,” he says for the seventh time since they sat down, and Sam doesn’t doubt he means it, but he throws a sideways glance at Bucky anyway, who’s already looking at him from the corner of his eye.
“So I invited Tony over tonight,” Bucky says then. Sam turns to him swiftly, raising his eyebrows, but says nothing. Steve does choke on his bread.
“You, you did?” Steve asks once he’s done with his coughing fit.
“Yeah, he wasn’t at our housewarming party, he owes us a gift.” Bucky shrugs and throws his arm around Sam’s chair, smiling innocently.
“That’s a great idea, Buck,” Sam chimes in, enjoying Steve’s face going redder with every second that passes.
“It is, isn’t it?” Bucky turns to him, kissing him quickly on the cheek. “We could have a boys' night.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees quietly. “So great.”
The doorbell rings right then and Sam enjoys Steve’s pained expression probably way more than he should.
-
It’s incredible to watch. Sam cannot believe it: the most desirable man in the world, GQ’s sexiest man alive 5 years in a row, an epitome of perfection that Sam has seen render people speechless, sitting there in his living room blushing from his ears all the way to his ankles because Tony Stark is sitting next to him, in a loveseat where Bucky made them squeeze into because apparently every single other chair in their house is broken or about to break.
“So Tony,” Sam starts, squeezing Bucky’s thigh where it’s thrown over his lap. “Heard you’re having a party this week.”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, nodding thoughtfully. “We didn’t get any invites though, did we?”
“A party?” Tony asks, puzzled. Sam glances at Steve, who looks just as puzzled, using the arm of Sam’s favorite armchair as a stress ball.
“Yeah, Steve said you rented out a restaurant in Brooklyn?”
“Right.” Tony coughs awkwardly, eyeing Steve briefly “A party, of course, you guys should come!”
“Oh, we can’t make it,” Bucky says. “We will be otherwise occupied.” He smiles with teeth, his best teasing smile. Sam loves him so much.
“That’s too bad,” Tony remarks, lips drawn tight.
“So, who else is invited, Tony?” Sam asks and feels Bucky squeeze the back of his neck in a very supportive manner. They are so good at this.
“Oh, you know, everyone.” Tony unbuttons the button of his jacket, elbowing Steve softly in his side and Sam hears the stitches on the arm of his favorite loveseat ripping.
“Everyone?” Bucky questions further. “Like who?”
“Well, Steve’s invited. Natasha, of course”
“Isn’t Nat undercover for the rest of the month?” Sam asks Bucky, enjoying his bright, teasing smile.
“She is, isn’t she?”
“Oh well,” Tony shrugs awkwardly. “That’s too bad.”
“So it’s just you and Steve so far then?” Bucky asks, and he’s not even trying to be subtle anymore. Sam can barely hold back his laughter.
“Well-” Tony starts.
“And it’s Steve’s favorite restaurant, isn’t it?” Sam interrupts him. Steve’s face looks like he’s experiencing absolutely every human emotion all at once.
“It is!” Bucky agrees, “So it’s like a date.”
The reaction that follows from Steve and Tony is a mix of whats, nos, and so much awkward scrambling that Sam’s head starts to hurt.
“I mean, no, yeah, no, of course,” Tony keeps talking, and at the same time Steve keeps mumbling about Tony just being polite and coincidences about restaurants that happen to be his favorites.
“So,” Bucky drawls, eyeing them both carefully, “not a date then?” A little shit. Sam wants him so much right now.
“No, yes, of course, I mean, it’s a party, unless you’re interested. You’re not interested though, right?” Tony rambles, looking at Steve uncertainly.
“Interested?” Steve asks, shy and so very red. “In going to your party?”
“Oh for god’s sake,” Sam grumbles to himself. Bucky squeezes his thigh in sympathy.
“Yeah, a party,” Tony nods, looking down at Bucky’s favorite Persian carpet like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. “Or a date?”
“Oh,” Steve gasps softly
“Right, yeah, no,” Tony shakes his head, standing up awkwardly. “Of course, it’s just a party.”
“No,” Steve yelps, eyes widening at the sound of his own voice. He clears his throat. “It could be a party if you want, of course, you paid for the restaurant, but- uh, it could be a date too?”
Tony gasps, almost inaudible. “Yeah, uh, yes! A date!” He steps closer to Steve, their hands brushing right in front of Sam’s face. He glances at Bucky and motions to their bedroom because he’s pretty sure there’s gonna be some touching happening sometime soon that Sam does not want to bear witness to.
“Alright,” Sam says and stands up swiftly, pulling Bucky with him. “We’re gonna crash now, feel free to stay the night. Steve, you know where the clean sheets are, in the laundry room, top shelf.” He nods curtly and drags Bucky to their bedroom.
Bucky stumbles over that damn carpet but follows dutifully, slamming the bedroom door shut loudly. He looks at Sam with wide eyes for half a second before bursting into laughter. Sam loves him so much, it’s impossible not to laugh with him.
“We did good today,” he says after they’ve pulled themselves together, putting away the decorative pillows.
“Yeah, we did,” Bucky agrees and pulls him in for a quick kiss. “Our good deed for the day.”
“Well, I saved a building full of people from certain death, so that’s my second good deed of the day?” Sam smirks at him, falling into bed on top of Bucky.
“My hero,” Bucky laughs softly and wraps his arms around Sam like the koala he is, turning them on their sides and presses his freezing feet to his shins. Sam slaps his ass for that but pulls him closer, forgetting for a second that Steve and Tony are possibly making out in his living room right now.
-
Sam has been asleep for a few hours already when he feels the bed dip behind him. He’s already reaching for the gun he keeps behind the headboard when he hears Steve whisper “sorry” in his ear.
“Steve,” Bucky drawls grumpily, turning in Sam’s arms and pressing his ass to his front with force. Sam sighs, scooting over so Steve can fit into bed behind him.
“If Tony’s coming too, I'm kicking you both out,” Sam mumbles sleepily and wraps his arms around Bucky tighter, trying to get comfortable with Steve’s breath tickling the back of his neck.
“He left,” Steve whispers, sounding almost uncharacteristically giddy.
“What a gentleman,” Bucky says, sounding adorably sleepy. Sam kisses his shoulder just for that.
“Well,” Steve starts.
“Well, what?” Sam asks, suddenly alert. “What did you two do on my couch?” Steve doesn’t answer, laughing under his breath. “Steve!”
“He’s gonna pay for the dry cleaning,” Steve says finally and presses his freezing feet to Sam’s shins too.
Sam hates supersoldiers.