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Sam stood in the back of the room, marveling at the friendly interactions between all those that had come out for the tenants’ association’s body meeting. He’d only just moved into the building a few weeks before and hadn’t really had any time to meet much of anyone, so, of course, he figured attending the meeting was a good way to start the networking he’d been putting off. And, he thought, it was probably a good way for him to get a feel of the particular culture of his new apartment building.
Couldn’t be much different from being in Harlem, where he’d lived almost his whole life, save the few years he’d spent with Riley and his mom in Kansas, but still in all coming to Brooklyn definitely came with a bit of culture shock.
One thing that threw him were fruit stands everywhere. Not that he couldn’t find fresh fruit in Harlem, especially with all the yuppies moving in and making his home place nearly impossible to afford to live in if you weren’t already well off... and white. It was just… they were everywhere. He’d walked up and down Flatbush days before and swore he’d seen just as many fruit stands as he saw beauty supply shops. Which, being Flatbush, was quite the ratio.
His maternal grandfather, rest his soul, would have adored this part of Brooklyn, filled with color and life and scents that would have surely reminded him of his old home in Haiti. He’d talked about it often and Sam had wanted to go desperately when he was younger, but like with so many of his other aspirations, that one had gone off to die right around the time Riley had.
Not that his grandfather hadn’t found community with the West Indians in Harlem or with his grandmother’s own folk, but gosh he was sure just seeing so much culture out and about like it was on Flatbush would have probably brought a tear to his grandfather’s eye.
“Excuse me?” a soft, strangely familiar, voice asked from his left, breaking him out of his thoughts. Sam stepped to the side and closer to the refreshment table as two men walked past him. The blonde, the one who’d addressed him, offered him a smile over his shoulder before going to the very front of the community room they’d congregated in. Sam watched him greet nearly everyone before moving to stand at the very front of the half circle the others had formed. He couldn’t help but think of how familiar the man looked.
“Hi guys, how’s everyone doing?” the blond man asked, filling the sudden silence that had befell the room. The crowd before him all answered politely, some throwing in jokes and others just greeting the man in kind.
“Well, I’m happy to hear that. We’ve had a rough week with the water situation which, I’ve been assured, will be resolved in the next day or two. Obviously, this kind of thing is unacceptable but management has been very good about trying to make accommodations for everyone so I’d like to ask everyone here to try and remain calm. I’ve personally been hounding them every day and I won’t stop until the issue is fixed. Now I’d like to open up the floor for anyone to voice complaints or issues they’ve been having or even just ideas that they have that could improve our little community,” the man said with a smile before taking his own seat.
Sam watched the meeting continue, listening silently to the opinions of his new neighbors and learning their names. He already knew Laura Barton and her kids because they lived next door to him but it was interesting to finally see her husband who she’d talked so lovingly about the few times they’d exchanged words. Also, he remembered meeting the rather skittish Dr. Banner who’d actually helped Sam move his couch when his brother Gideon had been called into the ER. The guy was nice, just very quiet it seemed.
Then there was Sharon and her fiancée Natasha who he’d already known prior to moving into the building. They’d done some classified work together back when he’d still been in the Air Force. She was tougher than a bag of nails and twice as sharp. He hadn’t gotten so close to her fiancée—Natasha worked a lot —but from what he did know about her, he liked her a lot too.
Sam made a note to send everyone who’s names and apartment numbers he remembered a small holiday card as the days got closer and closer to the new year. He figured something generic but festive would be the best idea.
“Sam, right?” the same voice from earlier asked him, once again rocking him out of his own head. He’d been doing that a lot as of late. Losing time inside his head. Made it hard to connect with people nowadays. Made it hard to connect with himself too sometimes.
Before him stood the blond from before, smiling that bright smile that lit up his blue-green eyes. He was taller than Sam by a few inches and much broader around the shoulders. Everything about him of made Sam feel kind of small. Not so much in an intimidating way, this guy looked like he’d never so much as cursed, but there was just something about him that made Sam feel real tiny. Safe.
“Um… hi,” Sam said, ducking his head under the other man’s intense stare. It was friendly, he knew that, but people looking at him still made him nervous sometimes. Being seen was a little unnerving.
“I’m Steve, Steve Rogers. I’m the current head of the tenants’ association here. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you a proper greeting ‘til now. How are you liking things?” Steve asked, his smile growing wider as his gaze grew softer.
Sam shrugged slightly and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“It’s been really quiet mostly. I mean, aside from the Bartons, but I don’t mind that. Kids are loud and it reminds me of home with my family so I like it. I haven’t gotten to know anyone outside of them and Sharon really,” Sam admitted, feeling himself begin to blush.
“You know Sharbear? She’s like family to me, we’ve been close for a long time,” Steve said, still grinning. Sam looked up from underneath his lashes, looking over Steve’s physique. The man had to be cut from marble with those bulging biceps and perky pecs. He hadn’t looked at anyone quite like this in a while either but just the site of Steve had him licking his lips. Peeking up, he noticed Steve’s gaze getting hotter at the sight.
“I-I think I should go,” Sam stammered softly, cheeks warming dangerously. He moved to step past Steve and shivered when he accidentally brushed against the man.
“Hopefully we’ll be seeing more of each other,” Steve said before stepping out of the way. Sam nodded and nearly ran out the room and into the cooler hallway to catch his breath.
Luckily no one was around to see him, a grown ass man, squeal in embarrassment.
After that Sam avoided Steve as much as possible. If he saw him in the hall, he’d go down the stairs on the opposite side. If Steve was in the laundry room he’d lock himself in the bathroom until he was sure the other man had gone. Sure, it seemed a little extra, wasn’t like Steve had done anything that had made him uncomfortable. On the contrary, he wanted to jump that big blond hunk like a rope. Wanted to trail his hands along those broad shoulders and run his fingers through that soft looking hair. Just thinking about it made him feel a rush of heat in his belly.
Heat like he hadn’t felt since about two years before. Heat that was certainly unwelcome because Steve was: 1. Probably taken and 2. A friend of Sharon. Everyone, himself included, who was friends with Sharon came with a whole host of issues and he wasn’t ready to be dealing with any of those for anyone who wasn’t himself.
So, he avoided Steve, or at least he tried to. Except it seemed like they both just ended up in the same places no matter how hard he tried. He’d be just coming down to check his mail and Steve would be in the lobby, helping Mrs. Rodriguez with her groceries. Or he’d head to Sharon’s to borrow something he’d forgotten to buy and Steve was there helping them paint.
Which was a definite wrench in his plan since Steve’s kindness only made him thirstier.
And, of course, just when he’d been able to avoid Steve for a whole two days, the man of his every waking (and sleeping) fantasy showed up just as Sam was contemplating whether dying from carbon monoxide poisoning was a part of his future plans.
Just as soon as the problem with the water was fixed the heat in the building began giving all the tenants issues. It would come on in the morning and be out before the afternoon had even rolled around. Or one room would be obnoxiously hot and all others would be just the same frigid temperature as it was outside.
Though, at first, he hadn’t been so upset, it gave him a chance to put the old space heater he had to use. But moving the thing from room to room quickly became nearly unbearable. He’d go from being in his warm and toasty bedroom to almost freezing to death walking to his bathroom down the hall. And then there was the issue of the plants he kept around his living room and them not being meant to thrive in freezing temperatures like he was putting them through. So mostly he camped out on the couch, where he spent most of his time anyway.
And just when he’d thought he’d found the best solution the space heater, the piece of junk, clonked out on him.
Which lead him to wondering whether trying to heat his apartment with the oven was worth the risk of dying.
Just as he’d given in to temptation— he’d rather die warm than freeze — there was a knock at his door.
Grumbling, Sam walked to answer his door, hopeful it would be his guardian angel coming to replace his broken space heater. Or just someone to fix the heat. Or give him enough money to move to a new apartment that didn’t have any of these problems to start with. Anything was preferable to sleeping curled around his stove.
Steve stood on the other side, smiling sheepishly with a tray of cookies in his hands. He frowned when he caught site of Sam bundled up as he was.
“Is everything alright in there?” Steve asked, sniffing at the air and frowning at the smell of gas. Sam sighed and shook his head.
“The uh… the heat isn’t working and my space heater broke so I’ve been using the oven to stay warm,” Sam explained which just made Steve’s frown deepen.
“But I’m going to go and buy another space heater pretty soon anyway, it’s fine.” Sam hurried to add.
“Do you want to come over to our place? It’s warm and there’s no risk of dying from carbon monoxide poisoning,” Steve said, brows drawn tight in concern. Sam bit his lip and nodded; he’d been avoiding Steve since their last meeting but he wanted to be warm again more than he wanted to not embarrass himself in front of the taller man. Steve offered him another one of those killer smiles before stepping closer to Sam, forcing him to look up into Steve’s bright eyes.
“How about you gather whatever you need and I turn off that stove and open a few windows?” Steve suggested. Sam nodded and stepped aside, allowing Steve into his small apartment. Suddenly Sam was nervous, looking over the space that he definitely hadn’t bothered cleaning in the last week or so. Not that Steve seemed to mind; he stepped through the living room and into the kitchen to turn off the oven while Sam gathered his laptop and it's charger and a few books he’d been going through. He had been looking over some new techniques he wanted to start implementing into his classes starting January of the coming year.
“So, what do you do Sam?” Steve asked as he came back into the living room where Sam was, contemplating whether he needed to bring his headphones or not.
“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” Sam answered, still debating whether he would need the white headphones or not while Steve came to stand close behind him.
“That’s really cool. I’m an adjunct professor of painting and art history at Kingsborough Community College. I also do some freelance work,” Steve said just as Sam turned and slammed into his broad chest. Steve chuckled, bringing his arms around Sam to help him keep his balance while Sam gripped tight at his olive-green t-shirt.
“S-sorry,” Sam offered while Steve stroked up his back gently.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Steve assured him. “How about we go and get warm?”
Steve’s apartment was filled with the smell of cinnamon and sugar. And warmth, so much warmth from the single space heater in the corner of his own sparsely decorated living room. Sam’s body sang with joy once he’d settled on the well-worn sectional sofa that took up one whole side of the room, the corduroy material soft on his mostly bare legs. Curse him for deciding shorts were the best kind of pajama pants and not investing in flannel.
Steve rummaged around the kitchen for a bit while Sam settled himself, setting his books and laptop up between his crossed legs. Steve came back into the living room with the same plate of cookies he’d been about to offer to Sam before. They were decorated in fun festive shapes, some cut out into menorah shapes and others decorated as little poinsettia arrangements. Sam’s eyes lit up as Steve brought them closer. They looked delicious but more over they were so pretty he almost didn’t want to eat them and said as such to which Steve offered a bright red blush.
“I just… well I’ve always just done them this way since my roommate, Bucky, is Jewish and I’ve always liked poinsettias more than big Christmas trees,” he explained.
“They’re really wonderful. You must put a lot of effort into the piping, it looks so delicate,” Sam said, smiling bright as Steve blushed harder.
“I do, thank you.” Steve colored again before grunting. “Do you want to watch Netflix or something?”
“I was going to try getting a bit of work in but a little break couldn’t hurt,” Sam said, shifting over so Steve could fit on his left. The heat radiating off the other man was just as welcomed as the cookie platter sitting on his lap. It felt nice to just unwind and not have his thoughts turn morbid for a moment. Eventually the smell of the cookies and the warmth of the room lulled him off to sleep, his head coming to rest on Steve’s shoulder.
When he awoke, he was snuggled under a blanket and pulled comfortably into Steve’s side. The other man was snoring lightly, his head tilted back in what was sure to end up an uncomfortable position. Sam moved and pressed Steve down a bit, trying to change his position so he was more comfortable. Eventually, he found himself trapped in Steve’s lap chuckling as Steve cracked open a heavy-lidded eye on him.
“Hey,” he whispered softly, his soft blue eyes gazing up at Sam.
“Hey,” Sam whispered in response. The smile Steve offered him, big and bright, made something in his chest flutter. He must have been silent a moment too long because before he could say anymore Steve placed his hands protectively on his hips, his blue eyes now searching Sam’s face openly for any signs of unease.
“Is everything alright?”
Sam nodded, blushing under Steve’s now concerned gaze. And, unlike the many other times he’d said the same thing, he really meant it. He felt good in Steve’s arms. Like it was a place he’d found comfort and safety in before.
They gazed softly into one another’s eyes for a long moment before Sam leaned forward to press a tender kiss onto Steve’s slightly parted lips. He pulled back quickly, biting at his lower lip nervously.
“I-,” he started just to be cut off by Steve pressing another, less gentle, kiss to his plump lips. Sam moaned and opened his mouth to Steve’s wandering tongue. They pressed close together as their tongue traced over one another, mapping out the hot cavern of each other’s mouths. Steve tasted sweet like the cookies they’d been eating before they both fell asleep, Sam was sure he tasted much the same.
“Ah, ah,” he moaned as Steve trailed his hands down to stroke Sam’s bare thighs.
“Wait, wait,” Steve grunted, pulling back from the kiss.
“Did I do something wrong?” Sam asked, trying to climb off of Steve’s lap, suddenly embarrassed. It’d been a long, long time since he’d desired anyone the way he did Steve. And maybe even longer since he’d felt desired in turn. Had he been reading the signs wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time.
“No, Sam, never. Gosh I’ve been wanting to do this since I knew it was you. Well, you were you,” Steve said fast, trying to explain himself.
Sam’s brows knitted together in confusion. “Knew what was me? What are you talking about?”
Steve licked his lips and sighed softly, running his fingers through his hair. “When I saw you and realized you didn’t remember me I’ve been trying to figure out a way to approach you. About two years ago we… well, we met at a bar and spent the whole weekend with each other. In DC? You said you’d just gotten out of a relationship and we spent the whole time just enjoying each other’s company. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. We didn’t even give each other our real names but I remember that weekend being one of the best times in my life. I was going through a lot at the time and you were too and we just… gosh we just got each other.”
Sam nodded, thinking back to what he’d been doing two years before. Mostly he’d been drinking his way through DC, one bar at a time. It was just after Riley’s accident and he’d been in a bad space mentally. He’d quit his job and moved away from Kansas to squat in Sharon’s old apartment in DC while he tried to figure things out.
Most of that time had been spent in a self-destructive haze. The only thing he remembered with any clarity was stumbling drunkenly into Sharon’s house more times than he cared to admit. And the bodies. There had many of those, sought for comfort and a quick release that had often left him feeling even more drained than he’d been before them.
It was only through the urgings of his family that he’d even slowed any of that down, he remembered. If it had been up to him he’d probably still be in DC now, doing the same things to try and forget how the… well how Riley, who’d been so important to him, had just disappeared from his life. One day he’d been there, smiling and making obnoxious jokes like always, and the next he’d been gone.
Just nowhere, ever again.
“There were… there were a lot of people back then,” Sam said, suddenly embarrassed. He’d never been ashamed of the things he’d done to cope, well he had but not all that much. He’d done a good job of rationalizing it all, his counselor told him. It helped him move on and keep going. But here, under Steve’s gaze, he suddenly felt dirty.
“We met at Nellie’s Sports Bar. It was a Friday and you were wearing this purple shirt that hugged you like… oh, man. I can’t even describe it, you just looked good,” Steve explained, his hands going back to sitting on Sam’s waist, loose enough that he could get up without any problem if he wanted to but still there, grounding Sam in the conversation.
Sam blushed and tried to think back. He’d gone to Nellie’s often, well as often as he’d gone anywhere back then.
“It was early. Like 3 pm when I got there and you were sitting at the bar and I just knew I had to talk to you. Not that I even got the courage to do it until around 10 when you were getting ready to leave!” Steve continued, smiling. It only made Sam feel worse that he couldn’t immediately recall the memory.
“I’m sorry Steve. I was- I’m a mess. And I was back then too. I don’t really remember much of any of it. I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
Steve shook his head, face going bright red in frustration, “I’m not disappointed with you at all, Sam! I wish-I wish you remembered because, well, that weekend meant a lot to me. So much. Like how much kissing you in front of the Lincoln Memorial made me feel things I’d never felt before. “
And just like that, the memories which had sat fuzzily in his mind came into startling clarity. They’d raced, like fools, around the Reflecting Pool and at one point almost fell in, they’d been goofing off so much. That was Saturday morning, after they’d spent almost all of Friday together, locked in an intimate embrace.
Now that he thought about it, it was really no wonder he’d thought Steve looked familiar when he’d seen him at the meeting for the tenants’ association. That weekend had been just before he’d moved back in with his mom and got himself more or less sorted out. That weekend with Steve had been… well it’d been just what he needed at the time. Someone who understood the grief he was going through and didn’t try to force him into being okay.
He’d explored more of DC in those two days with Steve than he had the whole time he’d been shacking up on Sharon’s couch.
“You were the best man at your ex’s wedding,” Sam said, the memories coming back to him. Steve nodded and offered him a slight grin.
“Yeah, Sharon’s cousin… we’d been together since high school and then we just stopped working. That’s when she met Angie and they worked like we’d never had. It was really hard on me and, to be honest, I was going out of my mind but being with you helped me so much. I don’t mean to put so much on you, you seemed real jittery last time I saw you but I… I’ve been thinking about you.”
“I… I’m not the same guy as I was before,” Sam said, thinking again of all the briefs encounters he’d had over the course of his stay in DC. And the excessive drinking. He’d been so so low then. So much so that he hadn’t thought there was any way up.
How could Steve still want to get to know him after seeing him like that?
Steve nodded. “I don’t expect you to be.”
“And you still want to get to know me?”
“Yes, definitely yes.”
Sam nodded, standing from Steve’s lap. “Can I have some time? To think about it?” he asked, flexing his fingers nervously. Steve smiled one of those big bright smiles and nodded. Hearing Steve say he was okay with Sam’s less than stellar past was one thing, but the idea of Steve actually getting to know him and deciding he’d made some sort of terrible mistake was nearly enough to make Sam cry.
“Of course, there’s no pressure. Also, you don’t have to go back to your freezing apartment now either. You can do your work or help me cook dinner, it’s all your choice.” Sam offered him a watery smile before sitting back down on the couch, a little farther from Steve this time. Hopefully he’d be able to keep his hands to himself this way.
“I do really need to get this research done.” Steve smiled again and stood.
“Well I’ll go get dinner started. You like meatloaf?”
“Love it.”
“Well then you’ll definitely enjoy dinner. Meatloaf’s about the only thing I can cook well.”
“What if I didn’t like meatloaf then?”
“Then… well I didn’t plan that far ahead,” Steve admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck while Sam laughed.
“Well it’s good you didn’t have to,” Sam teased, pushing those familiar feelings of inferiority down.
The next day the heat was circulating like normal again and Sam went back to his apartment to get himself together. And to close the windows Steve had left cracked open; thank goodness, he’d thought not to leave them up all the way or Sam would have had piles of snow on his floors. One positive of the weather, however, was that school was cancelled and just before the break was supposed to start too.
He was sad he didn’t get to put together any of the festivities he’d planned for the day; he was sure his kids would have loved the gingerbread people decorating he’d planned for them instead of regular simple math lessons, but he could still do it after the break was up. They’d probably like it then even more if it meant getting out of anything more rigorous.
So instead he went around making sure the plants he kept all over his home were okay. They didn’t take so well to the cold, but after one night most of them were just fine. Some needed a little TLC which was just fine with him. He’d grown up loving plants and gardening, something he’d gotten from his paternal grandmother who he’d visited a lot after his father’s passing. She was from Louisiana and spent a lot of her time in her garden. Gideon and Sarah weren’t so big on dirt but Sam liked being with her, talking about his father as a child and how he’d grown up in the rural south just to move up north and meet his mother.
It was in her garden he’d learned the most about his father. The things he’d struggled through and overcome. Lots of parents joked about having to walk miles and miles to get to school but his father had done just that. Two hours to get to school and two to get back home and then one to go off to work. That he’d done it and continued on to get a degree was astounding. Sam didn’t think he had that in him.
But his father had and then he’d come to New York hoping to find work as a lawyer and had, instead, met his mother and founded his own church.
Thinking back made Sam want to go visit his mother but she was spending her holiday in Aruba with Gideon’s family while Sarah was in California this year with her new girlfriend and her family. Leaving Sam as the odd man out. He could have gone with Gideon and his mother but the holidays in Aruba didn’t sound all that fun to him. Not when he could be home in New York instead, where there was snow and his friends and Donny Hathaway singing “This Christmas”, which was by and large the best Christmas song there was.
Besides, if nothing else he had Sharon’s ugly Christmas sweater party to look forward to.
“So, you like him,” his mother asked over the phone on the day of Sharon’s party, he could hear Gideon in the background calling out to his youngest, who the family all called ‘Little Paul’. Sam bit his lip and nodded, sighing when he realized his mother couldn’t exactly see him through the phone.
“I think I might. I know I could. He makes me feel… safe,” Sam explained. Darlene grumbled over the line.
“You don’t know this boy from Adam, baby. What he got that nobody else got that make you feel so safe?”
Sam blushed, thinking immediately about Steve’s very muscular body.
As if she could hear his thoughts his mother sucked her teeth and grumbled again. “Get your mind out that gutter, Samuel.”
“I wa-I wasn’t even thinking anything like that, ma!” Sam blushed. He laughed, hearing her disapproving look through the phone.
“I… well he’s kind. Generous. He looks at me like I’m something special, and when I talk he listens. He remembers. He respects my boundaries. And he makes me…”
“He makes you what, Sam?”
Sam sighed, playing with a stray piece of lint on his lap.
“He makes me feel like I’m good,” he said finally. Darlene gasped shakily on the other end of the line. He imagined if she was in arm's reach she’d have pulled him into a tight hug and peppered kisses on the crown of his head like she always did when their conversations began stray into this territory.
“Sam, baby, I know you still feel guilty about what happened to Riley but…”
“It was my fault, ma. We hit a rough patch and instead of talking it out with him I checked out and he… he,” he took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from bursting into tears.
“You’re just like your father, rest his soul. He’d turn so tight in on himself sometimes that I thought he’d stay there and you do that same thing. Don’t make it fair to those you love but that’s just how yall are. Even Gideon and Sarah get like that from time to time but it’s always been you to twist so deep in yourself til you can’t see nothing but what you’ve done and never taking the time to see what people have done to you. I’m not saying you had no part to play in how your relationship with Riley dissolved, it takes two to tango honey, but it only takes one to end the dance. And that’s what he did, baby. Riley stepped out on your relationship long before that car accident.
“You didn’t make him pack up all his things and get in that car that morning and you certainly didn’t make that driver hit him. You’re just like your father, always taking responsibility where you don’t have to. But I’m getting off track, I know you didn’t call me for a lecture. But Sam… you’re a good man. A good person, like your daddy before you. You may make mistakes and regret things but that doesn’t change you from being good. And if this Steve fellow helps you to see that then I think you should give him a chance.”
“Mama…”
“Yeah baby?”
“Thank you just for being you,” Sam said, blinking away tears.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for being your mama, Samuel. You’ve achieved so much and I’m so proud, so proud, to have you as my son. Now gon and get yourself ready for Sharon’s party. Tell her and lil Natalia I said ‘hello’,” Darlene ordered, her voice tighter than it had been before. Sam laughed happily, thankful that these tears- unlike so many others throughout the past few years- felt so cathartic and refreshing.
“Alright, ma. Tell Gideon and the rest of the family I love them.”
“Will do baby. I love you, Sam.”
“I love you too, mama. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”
When Sam arrived, the party was in full swing, Sharon’s two bedroom apartment was filled near to bursting with partygoers and refreshments. Originally, he’d been planning on getting there rather early to help set up but Natasha had assured him that they had it all under control. And then, since he’d already been ready, he spent the next forty-five minutes fretting over whether he’d be there too late since he hadn’t gone in early.
So much so that he’d eventually lost track of time and was stumbling into the party a whole hour, almost two, after the party had officially started. Lucky for him this wasn’t one of his mother’s functions or he’d never hear the end of it.
As it was no one noticed him coming in so late, or at least if they did they didn’t say anything. Not even Sharon, who was usually a stickler about punctuality, made any fuss about it when he found his way over to where her and Nat were trading barbs with his good friends Colleen Wing and Misty Knight.
“Sam!” Misty shouted with glee once she caught sight of him. She pulled him into a tight embrace before holding him at arm’s length to look him over.
“What have you been eating, Sammy? You getting thick!” she teased before hugging him tight once more. Sam laughed with her and rolled his eyes before returning the embrace with just as much vigor. It was always good to see Misty, they’d practically been inseparable when they were kids.
“Oh, so we’re all just chopped liver now, huh? I never get a hug like that,” Sharon complained once Sam and Misty had separated.
“Well you didn’t have to put up with Sam growing up either,” Misty teased, sticking out her tongue. Sharon laughed and rolled her eyes before grabbing Sam up for a brief but no less warm hug.
“I’ll count my blessings,” she said once the hug was done. Sam smiled and offered Colleen and Nat both a smile and a handshake. Neither were big on intimate touching from anyone who wasn’t their partner which didn’t bother him any. He was all about respecting people’s boundaries.
“So Sam, tell us all about that monstrosity you call a sweater,” Misty teased. Sam looked around and noticed that all theirs were bland and generic ‘ugly holiday sweaters’ that they’d all probably picked up from Old Navy a day or so before the party.
“I let my students decorate mine,” he said with a shrug. At first, he’d been planning on just ordering something equally as horrendous from off of Etsy or something like that but then he’d decided to let the kids choose the design which had turned into them just grabbing their glues and glitters and going to town on what had once been a very stylish black turtleneck.
“Ah, no wonder,” Colleen winced.
“I think it’s nice,” Nat offered with a slight smile. “Maybe next time they can do one for me.”
“Don’t do it, Sam. She’ll wear it one hundred percent unironically and I’ll have to suffer through it every time,” Sharon groaned to which they all laughed.
Sam spent a little more time laughing and joking with the four of them before Nat pulled Sharon off to go mingle with the rest of the party.
“So, where’s Danny?” Sam asked, having not spotted the other of Misty’s partners since his arrival. While these sorts of parties weren’t necessarily Danny’s thing, he’d yet to just skip out on any that Sam could remember. He enjoyed hanging with all their friends just as much as Misty and Colleen did.
“Called away on family business. Hopefully he’ll be back in time to bring in the new year with us, but who knows,” Colleen explained with a shrug.
“Being rich and heir to the company apparently comes with actual responsibilities, who’d have thought.”
Sam laughed and then squeaked, nearly jumping out of his skin when a large firm hand suddenly pressed against his lower back. He looked up and blushed hotly when he saw that it was Steve who’d come to stand beside him. Trailing behind him was his best friend and roommate Bucky, looking just as sour as ever.
“Hey Sam,” Steve grinned.
“Hey Steve,” Sam said, smiling up at him. Bucky rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic huff before turning on his heel.
“I’m going to go hang out with Sharon and Nat,” he grumbled as he stalked off. Misty and Colleen watch the two of them before deciding to make themselves scarce as well.
“Is Bucky angry?” Sam asked after a moment.
“Just annoyed with me. Apparently, there’s a certain someone I can’t seem to shut up about.”
Sam raised a brow.
“Is that so?”
“Oh yeah. I guess I talk about him a lot or something like that,” Steve said, waving a and in the air flippantly.
“I can’t imagine,” Sam gasped dramatically. They both stood there a moment more before laughing, so hard that they both end up with tears in their eyes. Steve wipes his own away before reaching out to do the same for Sam, the rough pads of his fingers trailing along Sam’s high cheekbones as he does it.
“You look… I don’t even know. Good, I think. You look really good, Sam,” Steve murmured, the air around them heating instantly. Sam looks down before smiling softly up at Steve.
“I-thank you. I wanted to talk to you about what we were talking about before.”
“Yeah?”
“I want… I really want to get to know you, I want to go slow and see where things could go between us,” Sam admitted, biting his lip shyly. Steve smiled big and wide before nodding his head furiously.
“Of course, we can go as slow as you want. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure what you’d decide but this is great! We could go on a date tomorrow! Is that too soon? Am I being too eager? Sorry,” Steve winced, calming himself down. He was just so excited and ecstatic. He’d hoped Sam would be open to the possibility of them becoming something but he was also ready for a rejection or just friendship. Anything Sam wanted he was willing to be that.
“Tomorrow is fine with me but I… I don’t want to contradict myself either,” Sam muttered the last bit, his cheeks hot under Steve’s hands. Steve frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“I was hoping you’d maybe want to spend the weekend together, like we did before. Just… I thought we could go ice skating and get hot chocolate and just go around the city together,” Sam suggested.
“I’d actually really like that.”
“You would?” Sam asked, feeling self-conscious under Steve’s unwavering gaze.
“Yeah, I would.” Sam nodded.
“Good, okay. I’m-that’s good,” he stammered.
“Is kissing you too fast, Sam?”
“No, why?”
“Because I really really want to kiss you right now.” Sam blushed and licked his lips and nodding.
“Kissing is… kissing is just right.”
“Good,” Steve said before swooping in and taking the bottom of Sam’s plump lips between his own, groaning softly at how responsive Sam instantly became.
“Get a room!” Bucky shouted from the other side of the room. Steve backed off, choking out a laugh while Sam just ducked his head shyly.
“Hey, you can’t tease them for kissing under the mistletoe, that’s what it’s for!” Misty called from a few feet away. Sam looked up and them blushed again, how had he been under it all that time and not noticed?
“Who am I to ignore tradition?” Steve asked before he pressed another, softer kiss to Sam’s plush lips.
“Happy Holidays, Sam,” he said afterwards. Sam blinked, dazed for a moment.
“Happy Holidays, Steve.”