Romanogers - Oneshots

Who's kissing you, now that I'm gone? (2)

Imagine writing something for three weeks and it still being crappy.

"Oh, man."

Sam leans back in the passenger's seat and shakes his head, as though disappointed. Bucky leans over his left shoulder. Sam doesn't really appreciate the closeness of their proximity, but he's too distracted by the dastardly events taking place beyond the windscreen to remark on it right now.

Steve and Sharon Carter's locked lips are the current object of fascination, and really, Sam should be happy for his friend. He was one of the many trying and failing to secure Steve a date a couple of years back, but that was before Natasha. He knew what had transpired between them in Vienna, and even if Steve hadn't told him it would have been clear. Steve had become more dogged in pursuing their cause since then, and Sam knew that they had to make it worth it. All of this must worth it, they needed to triumph, because if it wasn't...then what was the point? It had to be worth it, because then the heavy loss could be slightly lightened by the knowledge of their success. Upholding his moral code to this extent has been painful for Steve, and Sam also knows that his friend often wishes he wasn't like this, that for once he could let things slide and go with the flow. It would hurt less. But he can't, and the promise of Natasha's steady embrace at the end of each day was a welcoming reward that made all of this a little bit better. But now there's nothing and no one to go back to, so all of this must be worth it.

All Sam feels as Steve pulls Sharon into a stiff embrace is deflated, and a bit annoyed. First of all, Steve should not be stringing Sharon along with these taunts of intimacy when it's obvious, to Sam at least, that nothing will come of it. Second of all, he can't help but be angry on Natasha's behalf. It must have been less than 48 hours since the severing of ties, and already Steve is glued to another woman. If she ever finds out, Natasha is going to be hurt, and Sam doesn't like his friends getting hurt, especially hurting each other, even when they're not agreeing.

Lastly, it seems pointless. The way Steve reaches out to the (admittedly pretty) blonde is practically out of obligation, it's hesitant and awkward, and to be honest so starkly different to the way he reaches for Natasha Sam might've laughed if he wasn't so put out.

When Steve and Natasha kiss, you can see they do it with everything. Even the soft ones, the light caresses, it's obvious they put every inch of their soul into it. The image thrust upon Sam now is barely sparking, reticent where emotion is concerned and unenthusiastic. When Steve and Natasha kiss, it's like a forest fire, and that's not just her scarlet hair. It's obvious kissing is like breathing to them, like a source of oxygen. The picture is always almost blinding with colour and passion, like a supernova even (again) when they are barely touching. There is no doubt to be found that they are irrevocably, irretrievably, in love. Sometimes it's sickening, the gooeyness, but almost always manages to make Sam wish he had someone that wanted him the way they need each other.

Perhaps he has no right to care about who Steve kisses, but he does. Perhaps it's not his business, but he feels like poking his nose in anyway.

"What?" Bucky replies, yanking Sam from his reverie.
Sam barely takes any notice of the query, just vocalises his train of thought and tuts. "I hope Carter knows how much of a rebound she is."
"What are you on about?" Bucky leans forward even more, confusion twisting his features.
Still ignoring, Sam continues. "Natasha is gonna be piiiissed."
"For me this seems an absolute win. Steve is finally getting some."
"Look, man, we have a mutual friend, but nothing beyond that. He broke his own heart and Natasha's for you, so you better not mess this up. You better make this worth it."
"Who's Natasha?"
"Will you please sit back? This is a bit much." Sam gestures irritatedly to where Bucky's hair is practically tickling his shoulder.
"Fine..." Bucky mutters as he complies. "Birdbrain," He adds a few seconds later, expression mutinous. The car door clicks as Steve, apparently out of Sharon's grasp, pulls the door open and slides in.
"What did you just call me?"
"Are you two going to be like this the whole flight?" Steve asks. He sounds weary, and Sam eyes him sharply.
"He started it." Bucky says, but Sam doesn't even deign to protest, instead turning to Steve.
"If that's how you're thanking people these days, I'm gonna start doing you less favours."
"Shut up," Steve gruffs, and the engine growls to life.
"Natasha-"
"Please be quiet, Sam."
The rest of the drive to the airport is silent, apart from sporadic thuds when Bucky kicks Sam's seat.