Love that Lasts Forever

run

A/N: words: 1983. whats good besties? this title is kinda ominous but its just about taylor swift. anywho. this is kinda ridiculous but like whatever. its gets... it gets so much better after the next chapter, bare with me yall. anyway, enjoy!

"You bought things without me?" Sam asked when they got a knock at the door at the door, a week after Sam got home. Bucky rolled his eyes. Sam waited for Bucky to respond, but the super soldier didn't say a word. Sam got up with a sigh, stumbling to the door. He opened the door to find three packages, two fair sized boxes and one a bit smaller, in front of his and Bucky's door. "What did you buy?" Sam asked, his voice going a few notes higher. At least.

Bucky snickered from behind Sam, get up from his own spot on the floor. "A dinning set, probably the tables, pillows." Bucky said, standing a few inches away from Sam, looking over his shoulder. Sam shook his head at the three boxes in front of him.

"You're an idiot. I'm never leaving you unsupervised again." The shorter man declared as he made his way out the door to grab the three boxes. He picked up one, nodding for Bucky to grab another. Just to be annoying, the super soldier looked reluctant to come and grab a box. "For the love of god, Barnes."

~~~~~~~

"That's not where that goes." Bucky told the shorter man, who was currently assembling the coffee table

"Can we please not have this argument every time we assemble anything?"

"Sure, when you figure out how to assemble furniture." Bucky retorted, and Sam has never wanted to kick him more.

"Fine," Sam said, "have fun, I'm going to pick up the couches I saw." Sam's tone was petty and sarcastic, and Bucky made sure to match it with a closed lip smile. His eyebrow raised playfully, and his head tilted slightly to the side. Sam almost got distracted by Bucky and that stupid face, but he powered through and shoved the allen key into Bucky's hand without breaking eye contact. He left without another word, and Bucky rolled his eyes, quick to get to work on the table. He knew Sam was doing it right. Sam did it right the first time, in Bucharest. But, it was amusing to see him get so flustered and annoyed. Bucky made the correct sacrifices, he thought, as he worked on the table a bit more.

~~~~~~~

Sam lugged the two couches he found onto the bed of his truck, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He knew he was right with the table. He knew that. Bucky was being annoying, as always. There was the way he smiled at Sam, the playful quirk of an eyebrow that made Sam's head spin. It was so subtle, so simple, but Bucky knew it messed with his head every time.

The wheels roll over the dirt driveway, the brakes squeaking to a stop. Sam gets out of the truck and tries, and fails, to get both couches out of the truck bed properly. "Need some help there, Samuel?" Bucky shouted from the doorway, causing Sam to whip his head up and scowl at the snarky looking man.

"Yes, actually." Sam responded, rolling his eyes. Bucky, because he wants Sam to hate him, was grinning like an idiot. The show off tried to grab one couch at once, and almost get crushed by a 40 pound couch. It was Sam's turn to grin. "How you doin' there, super soldier?"

"Shut up Wilson." Bucky said through gritted teeth, as the couch fell from his grip.

"You dent my truck, you're moving out." Sam warned, and of course he would never mean it. Having Bucky by his side, like it's always been, has been a relief. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Because that makes sense, yeah, sure." Bucky muttered, loud enough for Sam to hear. The shorter man rolled his eyes.

"Ok, we need a plan."