Hush, Hush

5

"We have to stop by Bucky's rehab to drop off his uniform," Sam announced, and cautiously glanced over at my place in the passenger. I pulled my gaze from the city scenery passing and stretched my legs out, releasing a yawn. Sam visibly relaxed when I didn't react and his grip on the steering wheel loosened, the color returning to his knuckles.

I slid my feet onto the dashboard of Sam's truck and hunkered down in my seat, resting my head back. It had only been an hour of sitting in the truck and we still hadn't left the confines of Manhattan. Sam scratched at the stubble on his chin and eyed my feet pressed against the windshield, his attention still focused on the road ahead.

"If you expected me to start crying, I'm over that now. He broke my heart and people move on." I shrugged, bringing my sunglasses down to the tip of my nose so I could look at him from my awkward position. Sam cracked a smile and looked out the driver's window, running his finger over his chin.

"I wasn't expecting you to cry," Sam chuckled, "I was expecting maybe that you would like to sit in the truck..?" He lowered his foot onto the brake at a stoplight, before dropping his hands into his lap, and looking over at me.

I pushed the sunglasses back up my nose and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not going to be a pussy about it, Samuel." I pulled my phone out of the cup-holder and began to text Natasha, updating her on my meet-up with Bucky.

"Okay, I won't talk about it anymore, but he could still be..." Sam pursed his lips and trailed off, his jaw clenching visibly. He gassed the pick-up a little too roughly when the light changed and I sat up, giving him a dirty look.

"Yes, I know he can still be in love with me." I took my sunglasses off and began unbuckling my seatbelt, "I also know that I'm with you now." I pushed the center console up to expose the seat between the two of us, and Sam kept shifting and wondering what the hell I was doing. I reached for his belt and his eyes widened, his hand shooting down to stop me.

"Woah! What the hell are you doing, Steve?!"

I kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sam, I'm feeling generous and you obviously can't get over the whole Bucky thing. So, relax." He slowly released my hand and rolled the driver's window up, tugging his ball cap to sit low on his eyes. I resumed with unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, before I pressed a kiss to his jaw. I wrapped my fingers around his cock through the material of his briefs.

Sam's hips involuntarily bucked at the sensation and he groaned softly under his breath, "Fuck."

By the time we pulled up to Bucky's rehab, Sam was definitely not worried about what might happen between Bucky and I anymore. He hopped out of the truck and slightly fixed the waistband of his jeans, the smile on his face unable to leave as he opened up the backseat. I stretched my limbs in the parking lot and zipped up Sam's jacket, stuffing my hands into the pockets to keep from them getting too cold. It was the middle of November and I was glad it hadn't snowed in New York, but I also hated the freezing cold without the snow.

Sam called out from the other side of the truck. "Hey, Babe? Can you call Tony?"

I blew out a breath that formed in front of me in a brief cloud, before turning back to the truck. I leaned into the pick-up and barely grabbed my phone, resting my elbows on the seat as I pulled up Tony's contact. A familiar deep and clear voice, made me bang my knee against the truck in fright.

"Hey, darling."

"Jesus fucking Christ, James!" I gasped, whipping around to see he was standing a few feet from the truck with his hands tucked under his biceps. He chuckled and flicked his head so a few strands of hair moved out of his face, and I drank him in.