Amends (Sambucky)

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Riley?" Sam glanced around the lobby of the hotel.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked on the most recent message, which happened to be from his sister. His hair was neatly brushed, his suit freshly ironed, and a hint of cologne still lingered on his skin.

Other than his sister and nephews telling him happy birthday, he had received a text from Riley, telling him to meet him there, ready to go somewhere that required a nicer dress code. It was about eight and night, and sure, Sam was a couple minutes early— but only because he didn't want to mess anything up. Truth be told, he was just excited that Riley had finally remembered his birthday.

"Sam," Bucky greeted, just as appropriately dressed. He mirrored Sam's suit, but his was all black where Sam's owned some white. A forced smile painted his face, but it was enough to pass, "You look great."

"Thanks, uh- wow," Sam laughed a bit, "Who knew you could wear something other than cargo pants and long sleeves?"

"Riley. Oddly enough," Bucky pursed his lips, before holding his arm out, "Also, I'm supposed to be taking you somewhere at his request, right?"

"Uh yeah, but I think it's supposed to be more chill than this," Sam hinted for Bucky to stop, notably out of his element.

"Nope, this is what he requested," Bucky insisted, raising his arm yet again, "And I promised to try to support him. You kinda walked yourself into this one, doll."

Sam's eyes narrowed; he'd hate to give Bucky any gesture that he was wrong, so he puffed his chest out a bit and took Bucky's arm, "Well, shouldn't we be going then?"

"Yeah ofc course, you're the boss," Bucky began to lead outside, a small smirk falling onto his lips.

The two drove in a comfortable silence, Bucky occasionally tapping the wheel and glancing over at Sam. The latter didn't seem to notice, his mind trained on the festival lights and decor that still hung around the small town.

"Do you know where we're going?" Sam broke his stare, turning to face Bucky.

"Uh, I know I'm not supposed to tell you."

Sam huffed, leaning back in his seat and turning his gaze out the window again.

"Thanks for taking me," he mumbled, so quiet that Bucky almost didn't hear.

"Don't mention it."

Sam sighed, "Really. I appreciate that you're trying to like Riley...to be a friend to him."

"I'm not trying to be a friend to him," Bucky turned into a nearly empty parking lot, except for one other car. A hiking trail could be seen that lead through some trees, which is where Bucky planned to take Sam. He parked the car, turning it off so he could look Sam in the eye, "I'm only trying to be yours. I don't want you to think ever that I don't support you because I do. You're my partner."

A smile crept onto Sam's face, "You really mean that?"

Bucky paused, "Not really."

"I figured," Sam laughed, going to open the door when he stopped, "Can I actually ask you something?"

"Hm?" Bucky hummed nonchalantly, even though his mind was screaming at him.

"Have you ever liked someone?" he questioned, "Like, more than friends? I guess love."

Bucky's eyes widened, "What?"

"Like-," Sam quickly caught himself, "Nevermind, I talk too mu-,"

"No," Bucky cleared his throat, avoiding Sam's gaze, "No you don't, and no, I haven't."

Bucky took Sam's silence as an opportunity to continue, "Why? Do you like someone?"