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They were in a safe house outside Albuquerque, waiting to be picked up by Torres. There wasn't much to the place, just a bathroom, small kitchen, and a bed. Bucky'd cleaned up a cut on Sam's forehead, but he was fairly confident it wasn't anything serious. Sam allowed Bucky to fuss, and then they sat together on the bed to wait for Torres. Out of pure boredom, they'd started tossing hypothetical questions back and forth —
"If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?"
"What sport would you choose if you could be a pro athlete?"
"Would you visit Jurassic Park if it was real?"
They got pretty silly too, like: "Would you rather fart bubbles or burp confetti?" "What the fuck kind of options are those, Sam?"
"Okay, I got one, I got one!" Sam cleared his throat dramatically. "If you could swap powers with another hero, who would it be? Wait! 'Abilities' is better, includes us regular people."
Bucky snorted. "Hawkeye."
He was surprised by Bucky's immediate answer. "What? Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Wow, don't even think about your best friend, you could be flying Captain America, but no, you wanna be the bow and arrow guy — "
"The arrows are cool, Sam, have you seen the trick ones? And he never misses? I loved that shit when I was a kid, Robin Hood, Zorro — "
"Nerd. I'm telling Clint you have a crush on him."
He leaned towards Sam, feigning a hopeful expression. "Do you think he'd be interested?"
Sam shoved him. "He's a married man — "
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! What about you, who would you pick?"
"Spider-Man," he said, with the air of someone who had already given this some thought.
"Because he kicked both our asses in Germany?"
"That, and I'd like to try swinging around New York like he does, it looks like fun. And I'd look really good in that suit." Sam winked at Bucky, and his heart skipped. He rolled his eyes, but privately he agreed. Sam would look good in that skin-tight spandex, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination —
"My turn," Bucky interrupted his own thoughts. "Uh..." His eyes landed on Sam's shield and wings, laying on the floor near the door. "Okay. If you could have wings, what kind would you want?"
"Hm." Sam frowned, thinking very seriously. "Honey garlic."
"You — " Bucky squinted at him, trying to follow his thought process. "What?"
"Honey garlic wings. Have you had them? They're so good. Or, ooh, Joaquín and I went to this bar in Baltimore and they had these incredible mango habanero wings. Did they have wings back in your — "
Bucky couldn't take it. He started laughing, really laughing, like he rarely did these days.
"What? Why are you laugh— "
"Wings! Like — like with feathers! For flying!" Sam covered his face with both hands, and Bucky let himself fall back on the bed, still laughing. "Honey garlic?! Jesus christ — "
"Fuck you!" Sam complained, but he was starting to laugh too as he looked down at Bucky. "I'm hungry! The only food here is MREs!"
Bucky wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. "I can't believe the guy who can fly thought I was talking about chicken wings — "
"I'm leaving you here," he threatened, gazing fondly at Bucky. "When Torres picks us up you're not allowed to come."
"You wouldn't dare," Bucky was actually giggling. "I'll tell him about how you'd rather eat honey garlic wings than fly."
"I hate you. My turn."
"What? You don't wanna hear about the wings I wanna eat? Or the kind I'd use to fly — "
"What would you do if I kissed you?"
Bucky stared at him, smile slowly sliding from his face as he processed the question. "What?"
"If I kissed you." He leaned over Bucky, bracing one hand on the mattress beside him. "What would you do? Hit me?"
"Never," he answered immediately. In fact, he couldn't think of any situation where he'd willingly hurt Sam. He'd have to be the Winter Soldier again.
Sam smiled. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Come on, Buck, what would you do?"
"Sam."
"Tell me."
Bucky stared at him. If this was just a hypothetical, it was cruel. "Why would you kiss me?"
"Maybe I want to. Maybe I've been thinking about it for a while." He put a hand on Bucky's chest. "I'd just like to know what to expect. If I did kiss you."
This was insane, he couldn't really be asking... "How hard did that guy hit you?"
"I'm fine, you know I am." His fingers traced the seam of the zipper across Bucky's chest. "I wanna know what you'd do."
Bucky stared up at Sam. He'd thought about it too, but he'd dismissed it as an impossibility. What would Sam see in him? But here he was, leaning over Bucky, looking nervous and a little eager. He licked his dry lips, and when Sam's eyes dropped to watch, that really sealed the deal.
In a moment of unbelievable daring, he said, "Why don't you try it and find out?"
Sam grinned, delighted, and leaned down to press his lips to Bucky's, soft and tentative. Bucky tugged him closer, vibranium hand at his waist, flesh hand sliding around the back of Sam's head, fingers brushing the soft, short curls there. Sam draped himself half across Bucky, throwing one leg over Bucky's. His lips were warm and soft, and when his tongue slid against Bucky's, he made an embarrassing sound that was thankfully muffled against Sam.
Sam broke the kiss, but he stayed close, breath mingling between them a moment. Then he kissed Bucky's cheek, along his jaw, down his neck.
"Fuck, Sam," Bucky breathed, lips brushing Sam's ear.
Sam licked up his neck to his jaw. "You good, Buck?"
"Yeah, I — real good."
Bucky pulled Sam's lips back to his, wasting no time nipping at his bottom lip, then licking into his mouth. Sam responded with an appreciative groan, fingers sliding into Bucky's hair. It was incredible, better than his imagination, this was — he wanted to stay here, maybe they could call Torres and cancel their extraction. He just wanted to roll Sam onto his back, press him into the mattress, find the zippers in his suit so he could get him out of it. But before he could act on any of that, Sam pulled away.
"Shit." Sam sat up very suddenly, and Bucky panicked, thinking he'd somehow managed to ruin everything, even though it seemed to have been going so well. But then Sam fumbled his phone out of his pocket, and Bucky realized it was vibrating with an incoming call. He glared at the screen a moment before he swiped to answer. "Hey, Torres."
"Hey Sam." Bucky could hear Torres's voice from the phone. "I'm almost there."
"Great. How long?"
"Uh...ten minutes? Any injuries?"
"Nothing major, we patched ourselves up."
'"Cool. See you soon!"
Sam hung up. "'Nothing major'?" Bucky repeated. "Sam, you have a head injury."
"It's just a cut, Bucky, I'm fine." He rolled off of Bucky, settling on his back beside him. It was a tight squeeze for two large men on a small double bed, but Bucky didn't mind being pressed against Sam. "You're the one making out with the wounded man."
Bucky blushed. "Fuck you."
"Promises, promises."
Bucky glanced at Sam. He was staring at the ceiling, but there was the small quirk of a smile on his lips. Bucky had put that smile there. He and Sam had kissed, and Sam had enjoyed it as much as Bucky had. Would he want to do that again? Bucky certainly wanted to.
"To answer your question..." Sam's head turned to look at him, and Bucky's heart skipped. "I'd buy you dinner. If you kissed me."
Sam smiled, dazzling. "Yeah?"
Bucky nodded. "Yeah. All the honey garlic wings you want."
He laughed. "Oh, fuck you, you're never letting that go, are you?"
Bucky pushed himself up and leaned over Sam, like he had leaned over Bucky earlier. Sam watched him, his hands coming to rest on Bucky's forearms, one metal, one flesh. His lips were slightly parted, and Bucky could hear the way his breath caught and his heart rate kicked up. He really was beautiful.
He leaned down, brushing his nose against Sam's teasingly. "Never," he promised, and dived back in to kill their last few moments before Torres showed up.