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"Steve."
It was Sam's serious voice. Sam's serious voice wasn't quite the same as his no-nonsense voice; the latter was reserved for when Steve did something especially dangerous without justifiable cause, like jumping out of tall buildings. Or jumping out of aircrafts. Or jumping - okay, maybe "reserved" wasn't the right word, seeing as some days it seemed more present than Sam's relaxed, non-judgmental voice.
But Sam's serious voice was different. It meant that Steve could (and was expected to) talk openly without fear of chiding or cajoling. In other words, Sam's social worker voice.
And these days, it never failed to make Steve bristle.
"I don't really want to talk about it."
"You don't even know the topic," Sam pointed out. "I'd like to think I'm not that predictable."
Steve shrugged. "You've got that tone of voice, the one that means you're either gonna talk about Bucky or Tony. Or, if you're feeling adventurous, you'll throw the ethics of weaponizing superhumans into the mix. We've had these discussions, like, a bajillion times."
Sam smirked slightly in spite of himself. "A bajillion, huh? That's a pretty big number." His smirk slid into a soft smile. "You know I'm not gonna make you talk about anything you don't wanna, Steve. But I actually wanted to talk about Sharon."
"What about her? She's pretty, smart, and dangerous, you want her number or something?"
Sam's eyes twinkled and he chuckled. "Not quite, Cap, although I have to give you props for nailing my type. I'm not having any lady troubles though, don't you worry."
"It wasn't exactly hard to pin down. The way you look at Nat and Maria? Not that subtle." This was an opportunity to keep the conversation light, and Steve was gonna run with it. "You got your eye on anybody?"
Sam shrugged. "Maybe. Been a bit busy lately. You might know something about that. But what about you? Are you and Sharon destined to be an item? I mean, you did mack on her before driving off to break a ridiculous amount of international laws."
Steve's face flushed red, and his shoulders hunched, and Sam poked a finger his direction. "That's what I want to talk about," he declared. "How come any time somebody mentions Sharon you act all embarrassed, like you did something naughty? You're both adults, and relatively attractive adults at that. If you want to put your face on her face and she wants to put her face on yours, nobody's stopping you."
"Relatively attractive," Steve echoed with vague amusement.
"Well I mean, it's not your fault you don't hold up against me in the looks department, man," Sam jibed kindly. "I mean, sure, you're pretty hot, especially if you like the whole corn farming white boy look, but," he gestured vaguely at his own visage and torso, "it's not really a contest."
Steve laughed and didn't disagree. "Don't worry Sam, nobody's prettier than you. Except maybe Errol Flynn."
"Really Steve? Errol Flynn? That's the first hot guy you thought of?"
Steve crossed his arms in mock petulance. "Oh come on, he's dashing!"
"Yeah, if you like the whole corn farming white boy look," Sam quipped with a grin. The two of them laughed for a few moments before sobering somewhat. Steve scratched at the base of his head, the way he often did when uncomfortable.
"It's not that Sharon isn't smart or pretty or interesting. She seems great. But that's kinda the problem. Sheseems great, but I barely know her." He shrugged slightly. "And it's not just that. The kiss happened because we were both in a really weird headspace. We'd just buried Peggy, and adrenaline and tension was running pretty high. I just feel...I feel like I kinda took advantage of the situation."
Sam shook his head with no small amount of incredulity. "Only you could interpret the situation like that, Steve. You didn't take advantage of her. Trust me."
"I do trust you, Sam."
"Good, then that's resolved. I was worried maybe you felt guilty because of your past with Barnes, especially since he was right there."
Steve frowned slightly. "What does Bucky have to do with it?"
"Well, you two dated, didn't you?"
Steve's confusion deepened. "What? No. Is this because I mentioned how he used to drag me on double dates?"
"Nah, I guess it was just an assumption on my part, based on the whole dynamic you two've got going." Sam looked like maybe he wasn't entirely convinced. "I mean, you obviously love him."
The furrow in Steve's brow was a clear indicator that he didn't follow Sam's logic. "Of course I love him! He was my best friend."
Sam nodded. "I know. But you know that whole jumping out of planes and fighting off armies gig that you two have? Most people don't do that for just a friend."
"I thought by now we'd sort of established that Bucky's more than just a friend to me, Sam."
Sam threw his hands up in a sort of surrendering motion. "Look, I'm not sure we're having the same conversation. At least, I don't think we're actually arguing about this." He sighed. "I know that the word 'friend' doesn't do a whole lot to capture your relationship with Barnes. That's kinda my point. Do you see how I could mistake that for some kind of romantic love?"
Oh. So that was what Sam meant. When Steve thought about, especially from the 21st century viewpoint, he had to admit it kind of made sense. He and Bucky were tactile in a way that friends just weren't, nowadays. And they had lived together, even shared a bed at times.
And both men had a nasty habit of trying and failing to sacrifice themselves for one another. Most people wouldn't even do that for their spouse, or at least Steve assumed.
"When you put it that bluntly, I guess by some standards we were in a relationship? I never really thought about it like that. Bucky wasn't the person I thought about when I thought about kissing, or sex, or dressing up nice for. He was just...Bucky. I never thought, 'hey, I'd like to marry that guy' or anything. I just knew we were gonna spend our lives together. It wasn't a possibility, it was a fact."
Sam nodded. "He means a lot to you. He's your partner, romantic or not. I understand that." He watched as Steve lapsed into thought.
"This is gonna sound like a dumb question but...what's actually the difference?"
"Not a dumb question at all, man. Even Aristotle tried answering that. Philosophers have been asking that probably as long as philosophizing's existed."
Steve frowned. "So basically, people saw a pure expression of emotion and decided to needlessly break it down into boxes? That fits."
Sam gave a sharp laugh. "Jeez, when you put it that way..." he teased. "A lot of people say the difference is sex. Lots of others say sex has nothing to do with it."
"How do you define it?"
He shrugged. "I don't really know how to describe it. Sex is a part of it, I guess. But there's also just that feeling, you know what I mean?"
"Obviously I don't. That's why I asked."
The distress was visible on Steve's face, so Sam slung an arm around his shoulder. When that didn't quite work, he switched to rubbing comforting circles on Steve's back.
"Yeah, sorry. If it helps, the types of love are actually a huge field of study. Right now there's a lot of focus on what's called compassionate love."
Steve decided he probably shouldn't point out how redundant the concept seemed to him. After all compassion is an integral part of any kind of love, that much he felt sure of.
"So, what is it?"
"Sometimes it's also called altruistic love, but some folks consider that to be a separate concept entirely. I've even heard it called codependent love, which for some people is probably spot on." Sam gave Steve a slightly pointed look, smirking when Steve ducked his head. "Basically, it's a relationship based on feeling good by making the other person feel good. Both members place the other in super high esteem, and feel satisfied and loved by pleasing their partner."
Steve blinked. "That sounds...really close, actually. I'd do anything for Bucky. I'm happiest when he's happy. He's everything to me." The word "soulmates" bounced around his head for a moment, but he let it go. It didn't feel realistic enough to describe them.
"So what does that make us? Me and Bucky, I mean."
"That's something you two are gonna have to figure out, once he's back."
Steve shivered at the memory of slowly freezing in the arctic. At least for Bucky, it had been much more immediate.
"Yeah," he agreed. "I guess we will."