Work Text:
*****
Sam knew him.
The press of him.
Those hands.
The light but firm grip on him as he felt the grind of the other’s body.
The scruff brushing his neck as Sam sighed into that touch; relaxed backward into the man who had gently pulled Sam close.
Even on a crowded dance floor; even knowing that he hadn’t been there when Sam and his team had come to the club; Sam knew who he was.
How could Sam not?
“I thought you had a campaign thing in Memphis,” hummed Sam, smiling at the kiss he felt where his neck met his shoulder; at the hands that gently roamed up and down his sides.
Not quite aimless.
But.
A little meandering in a way that felt good.
Sam missed that.
So much.
He savored the touch.
Bucky held enough of Sam’s weight as Sam let himself relax into it more; let his back rest on his husband’s chest.
“Called in a favor,” murmured Bucky between slow, easy kisses to the beat of the song playing; kisses that crept up and down Sam’s neck and shoulders in a fond and comfortable way, “Lot of good sandwiches Wong loves in Memphis. A club tonight, huh?”
“Joaquín had said I’d been working too hard. Needed to ‘loosen up’. Leila agreed too. So, I just...” Sam murmured, his thought drifting away as he bit his lip; as he felt Bucky kiss right under his ear; worry and nibble as if wanting to leave a hickey, “Really want to leave that somewhere cameras can see?”
Not that Sam was opposed.
It meant a lot of gossip rags wondering who Sam was seeing now, but that never bothered Sam much.
“I think you were the one who caused that particular problem for me last time,” said Bucky, and Sam could feel Bucky’s smile on his skin, “It was a pretty interesting week.”
That was true.
Sam might have left a particularly prominent hickey about two weeks back on Bucky’s neck that even a turtleneck couldn’t quite hide. Sam would say he was sorry, but he really wasn’t. It was kind of nice to see it.
To know that he put that on Bucky.
That maybe no one knew it was his.
But Sam knew.
“U – unless,” Bucky started to falter, but Sam wasn’t having that.
He placed a hand on the back of Bucky’s head, stopping his man from pulling away.
Sam turned slightly.
Enough to look Bucky in the eyes, even if it was a bit of an awkward angle.
“Do you think I would ever say no to feeling you on me?” whispered Sam, his gaze never leaving those eyes, “Having something that reminds me of you on me? To know you are there? That you’re always welcome there? To know you are mine? To know that I’m yours? I’ll always want that, James.”
Sam felt the hitch.
On his back.
Bucky sucking in air.
And even on the dimly lit dance floor, Sam could tell Bucky’s eyes were blown.
Sam could feel Bucky’s grip on him tighten just a touch; the excitement of the words washing over Sam’s husband. And Sam could only smile wider at how their bodies kept moving in sync together.
Built for one another.
To dance to this song together.
To be together.
He laughed at the enthusiasm of it as Bucky dove in to suck a hickey on Sam.
And another.
And probably another.
“Samuel. Don’t laugh at me,” grumbled Bucky into Sam’s skin, “Not after you just said that. Not after we had a moment.”
“I’m not laughing at you,” said Sam, and okay, he kind of giggled at the surprise of Bucky practically spinning Sam in a one-eighty so that they were facing one another, “I just love you. you excitable dork.”
Sam rested his arms on Bucky’s shoulders; wrapped loosely around the back of Bucky’s neck as he took Bucky in.
Let his eyes wander over his husband.
The touch of grey in Bucky’s scruff.
The not quite club attire but definitely not a campaign trail suit.
The overwhelming intensity of Bucky’s gaze.
Warm.
And loving.
And wanting.
“Hey,” said Sam, dropping a decibel as he met Bucky’s gaze in kind.
There was a gravitational pull to them.
There always had been.
Two forces of nature drawn ever closer together as their foreheads touched.
“Hey,” Bucky rumbled; rough and needing and how could Sam not close the distance?
Let their lips meet?
It was always meant to be. It was where their lips belonged, really. Together. On one another’s lips and skin and everything.
It wasn’t necessarily a passionate kiss.
It didn’t have to be.
Desperate and craving and too scared this wouldn’t last kisses in closets and safehouses alone together weren’t their speed anymore.
Not with their confidence in each other.
Not in their love now.
It was solid.
So solid.
And as such, Sam didn’t have to worry about this being their last any longer. He could take his time. He could have as much time as he wanted pulling Bucky into his desires.
It was slow.
And loving.
Easygoing.
Lackadaisic as Sam savored each and every kiss they enjoyed as their bodies pressed close on the dance floor; only deepening when Bucky moaned into it; pressed closer to Sam as Bucky deepened it.
And Sam let Bucky take control.
Lost himself in the deepening kisses as Bucky slipped his tongue into Sam’s mouth; as they ground onto each other and –
“This is cute and all, but you know Sam came here to hang out with us, right?”
Sam.
Laughed into the kiss a bit. Bucky whined as Sam ended the kiss; as Sam turned his head to see Leila and Joaquín staring at the two of them.
“Team building, Cap,” said Joaquín oh so innocently, “We’re supposed to be team building. At the club.”
“I mean. I am supposed to be doing that,” confessed Sam to Bucky, grinning at Bucky’s halfhearted outrage at Sam siding with his slowly building Avengers squad, “I am their leader, honey.”
Bucky.
Groaned.
Which made Sam snicker.
“PDA can happen in an hour or so,” offered Sam, “Or, you know? There’s this place. It’s called our apartment. You might like it. It’s a little more private than a club. We could probably do a little bit more than this there.”
Bucky.
Broke down and smiled.
Did less continuous grinding that was really starting to cause Sam some possible tenting problems and more just dancing.
“Fine. For you. Not your team,” said Bucky, an absolute liar.
Like he didn’t love Sam’s team.
“You’re just mad that you’re not an Avenger,” said Leila, grinning as she and Joaquín joined Sam and Bucky in dancing.
“It would be an HR nightmare if I was an Avenger,” deadpanned Bucky as Sam laughed.
“I don’t know. We work pretty well together,” said Sam, grinning, “I mean. Okay. Probably hard not to keep my hands off you if you joined. But we do work well together.”
“Okay. I can’t argue with that,” said Bucky warmly.
“Maybe if you lose the election, we’ll take you in. But you’ll have to do an audition for us,” said Joaquín, “I want to see you show us some special talent. Are you good at singing, Old Man Barnes?”
Bucky.
Growled at Joaquín.
“He’s not going to lose, though,” said Sam, “I’ve got faith in him.”
“Of course you do. What are you going to say? ‘No, I don’t think my husband will win’?” asked Leila.
“It’s still nice to hear,” said Bucky, “I like that you believe in me, Sam.”
“Well, you supported me assembling the Avengers again despite how dangerous it will probably get. I want to support you with this too,” said Sam fondly.
“How could I ever not support you?” asked Bucky fondly, as he –
Okay.
As Bucky stole a quick kiss from Sam.
Just a peck.
And earned the exaggerated reactions from Sam’s team.
“Stop booing me. I love him,” whined Bucky as Sam laughed.
And.
Sam knew their time was short.
Bucky probably didn’t have all night with them.
But.
Sam was happy enough that they got this.
He could stand the distance if they always tried to meet each other like this when they could swing it.
*****