1 | Almost Happy ▷ Sam Wilson | ✓

40 - THE SEARCH

TERRAN BEING BACK WASN'T ALL FUN AND GAMES, CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF. In fact, ever since he had arrived, work had been on the forefront of everyone's minds, and was part of the reason why Nicky was incredibly frustrated by the man's constant emphasis on sleep.

"I'd rather get my work done than get eight hours of sleep," Nicky declared, glaring at Terran as he pointed towards the clock where it was nearing noon, "I sleep in quite a bit, but only when I've decided that I can go to sleep because all my work is done."

"That hasn't happened in a while," Sam commented, making lunch while fighting off Steve who tended to only know how to make bacon and eggs.

"Because I've had a lot of work to do," Nicky finished, giving a pointed look to the tall blond who just smiled at him.

"Look, I just wanted you to catch up on your sleep, but if you desperately need to stay up all night for work, you can, I'm not the boss of you," Terran said, standing up and walking towards Steve, picking him up and carrying him away from Sam with only a small grunt of strain.

Nicky choked along with everyone else—Sam nearly dropped the pan on his foot—searching for his voice. "You make me take all those sleep meds, you have the power over me."

He shrugged. "Okay, fair point, but we're just gonna roll with it, I won't be force-feeding them to you anymore, because we do need to make some progress. You talk to McCoy and Richards about it?"

Nicky nodded. "Hank's onboard with it, I think I'm gonna wanna tell Reed in person, just because it'll be easier to get it all out since we only ever talk on the phone or in person. I might ask Harry for help, but I don't really feel comfortable asking for funding from a child who doesn't actually have access to his dad's savings..."

"You could just hack into his savings," Rhett pointed out, "Though that's illegal, and we try to remain as okay illegal as possible. Like pirating music illegal, not murder illegal."

Terran stared at him. "Who are you?"

Rhett shrugged, glancing over to Nicky who smiled, hopping up onto the counter to watch Sam cook, grinning wider when the older man glanced over to look at him, giving him a tolerating smile.

"Thanks for cooking, Sam," the man said softly, and Sam rolled his eyes, walking over to stand between his legs, bracing his arms on either side of him.

The older man glanced over to the three men in the room who were all looking away from them, giving them some space and pretending like they hadn't been looking at them up until that moment. He laughed and turned back to Nicky, giving him his signature tooth-gapped, 'I'm mocking you' smile.

"You have a type," he said softly, starting to laugh.

Nicky scoffed, glancing over at the three strong, blond, blue-eyed, solider-in-another-life men that he had surrounded himself with over the years before turning back to Sam. "I do not have a type."

Sam laughed, keeping his voice quiet and his words clear. "You have a type, they have to at least be blond and blue-eyed."

"I don't have a type," Nicky argued, trying hard not smile, "I have you."

Sam snorted. "I cured you of the type."

He burst out laughing as Nicky made a sound in the back of his throat, the older man tugging him off the counter and into a hug, Nicky wrapping his legs around him on impulse, hugging him and complaining as the man laughed.

The three blonds took that opportunity to look at them, just for a brief moment, all of them smiling at the scene, because seeing the two of them happy, let alone happy together, was a picture they had finally been able to see for themselves.