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It had been a long couple of months. Searching for Bucky turned out to be more trying than either of them had expected. Of course, Sam knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park, but he’d kind of been hoping Steve had some semblance of a plan.
As it turned out, the file from Natasha wasn’t so much a map, but the broken pieces of a very intricate map. A map that had whole sections missing and led to nowhere. After weeks of fruitless searching, interrupted by, sometimes brief, sometimes extensive, skirmishes with hydra agents, they had to face the truth: Bucky was a trained assassin, and if he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be found.
Sam kept this to himself; his doubts were probably nothing compared to Steve’s.
They were coming from a dead-end in Rhode Island, now making their way up to Maine for some sort of potential safe house Bucky might have used in 1967. It was a loose lead, but a lead all the same. Dense lines of trees surrounded the black asphalt as they drove through Massachusetts.
The sun was just rising over the horizon, bathing the small Toyota in soft golden light. Sam was a little distracted by how the sun seemed to create a fluffy halo out of Steve’s golden hair when he saw the sign.
“You ever been to an amusement park?” Sam asked. Steve’s brow furrowed and his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel to the beat of the catchy pop song on the radio.
“Yeah, a while ago.” He shook his head, “Me and Buck went to Coney Island.” Steve didn’t have that kicked puppy look that usually suggested a Bad Memory, so Sam couldn’t bring himself to regret the question. Then Steve smiled, small and sweet, and the warmth that bloomed in Sam’s chest made him rethink his regret. “I threw up on the Cyclone.”
Sam pushed the feeling aside and grinned. “Aw come on, man. It’s not even that bad of a coaster.”
“It wasn’t, but,” Steve shrugged, “back then, everything was too much, you know?”
Sam thought about the exhibit at the Smithsonian and nodded. The graphic that showed a pre-serum Captain America, how he had barely came up to Sam’s chest. It was hard to reconcile that guy with the one who could run circles around him now.
“Never stopped you though, did it?”
Steve smirked at the road. “Never.”
“I bet you rode it again.”
Steve’s smirk turned into a full blown laugh.
“Of course I did. Threw up again, too.”
Shaking his head, Sam pulled out his phone. “So you haven’t been to one in almost a century? Man, that’s not right.”
Sam saw Steve glance at him out of the corner of his eye, “Why?”
“You’re telling me you didn’t see the Six Flags sign we just passed?”
Steve shrugged.
“You know what Six Flags is, right?”
Sam scoffed in disbelief when Steve just shrugged again.
“It’s on my list, but I haven’t really had an opportunity to go.” And there it was, that kicked puppy look. “Parks are more fun if you go with someone else, anyway.”
And Sam, suddenly faced with the depths of Steve’s loneliness, didn’t really know what to say.
“Well,” Sam said after his slightly stunned pause, “I’m someone else. We’re going to Six Flags.” He pulled up the directions on his phone and continued, “Let’s see how your serum holds up against Bizarro.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“You know what? Yeah, it’s a challenge.” Sam paused, “I want to see how many times in a row you can ride Bizarro before you tap out. This is me challenging you.” This, of course, was against Sam’s better judgement. He’d seen first hand how damn stubborn Steve could get, as if he could win every competition through sheer force of will.
Steve was still waiting for their MarioKart rematch. Sam kept putting it off; he wanted to keep his title as reigning champ and he knew Steve had been practicing when they stopped by the Avengers tower back in New York.
“I’m going to win, you know. I can’t get dizzy, or nauseous.” Steve was doing that smug bastard smirk, like every word he said was law. Not for the first time, Sam questioned why he hung out with him. Captain America was a real asshole. “You have no chance, Sam.”
“Really? You think so?”
Steve inclined his head but didn’t respond, just kept on grinning.
“I have more experience, man. Being on a roller coaster is almost like flying. That’s my advantage.”
Sam heard Steve’s puff of laughter before he took the exit for Six Flags. “Yeah, okay.”
“We should make it interesting, wanna make a bet?”
“What are the stakes?”
Sam thought for a minute, turning to look at Steve’s profile. Steve looked good. Not just good as in sexy good, but a type of good that affected the air around him. The type of good that made him glow with an almost ethereal beauty, as sappy and hopeless as Sam knew that made him sound.
The subtle despair in his eyes that seemed to weigh him down with each empty lead had dissipated somewhat. For right this moment, Steve looked happy. Sam could stand to see him like this more often... and Sam knew the stakes.
“You remember the first time you visited me at the VA? And I asked what made you happy?”
Steve nodded, his slightly cocky smile growing warm and soft before his gaze flicked to Sam and back to the road. “Yeah, I remember.”
“If I win, you have to make a list of things that make and might make you happy. Not stuff that you should try just because other people told you to,” he added when Steve opened his mouth to protest, “but things you genuinely think might make you happy. Things you come up with.”
Steve was silent for a moment. “How does that benefit you?”
Because making you happy makes me happy. “Because then I can stop having to come up with all the fun things we do together. When I run out of ideas, I’m gonna need the backup.”
Steve scoffed, “Well if that’s what I get for losing, what do I get if I win?”
“What do you want?”
The question wasn’t meant to be… suggestive or anything. Sam genuinely wanted to know. But the way Steve’s cheeks burned red made him think it had come out wrong.
“I want a lot of things.”
“What do you want that I could do for you?” Okay, maybe that one was meant to be a little suggestive. Just a little. By the way Steve’s blush reached his ears, he had caught it too.
“How about,” Steve finally said, hands tightening on the wheel, “You make a list too.”
Sam felt his face contort with confusion, “A list for what? You already know what makes me happy.”
Steve shrugged, stare intense on the road. “Yeah, but everything we do, we’ve done because you think I might like it, even when you don’t like it yourself.”
Sam was about to protest but Steve kept going.
“Like that time we saw that movie about the girl that was possessed by that demon thing. You only suggested it because it was on my list.”
Sam tried not to let the grimace show on his face, “I really wanted to see it,” he mumbled, and it wasn’t a lie.
The Exorcist was a classic that even Sam hadn’t seen. His sister Sharon always railed on him for not having seen it yet, but he never liked scary movies. Watching it with Steve would have just been killing two birds with one stone.
Only, twenty minutes into the movie, Sam had been so uncomfortable that Steve caught on. He paused the movie and suggested they watch Finding Nemo instead because It’s on my list anyway. Sam almost passed out in relief when he was finally able to stop pretending he wasn’t freaked the fuck out.
“What I’m saying is, you do things that you think will make other people happy because it might make them happy. But you don’t really think about what might make you happy.” The blush hadn’t disappeared, but there was a new strength to Steve’s voice, like he was trying to convince Sam of something. “I want to do something that you want to do. So that’s what I’m asking. Anything you want, even if you think I won’t like it. Make a list and we’ll do it, got it? And no more damn scary movies, I swear to God.”
Sam blinked, a little surprised, before he chuckled lightly, “You say that like you’re going to win.”
They pulled up to the park and Sam tried not to laugh too hard at Steve’s grumbling about the ticket prices.
“Inflation is a terrible thing, man. Don’t you get a fancy stipend from the government, anyway?”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
Despite his grumblings, Steve insisted he pay for both of them.
“I can pay my own way, man,” Sam had said, a little indignant. He wasn’t rich, but he was well-compensated for his work at the VA and his own government stipend.
Steve handed the money to the ticket clerk, “I know, but right now it would make me happy to pay.” he gave Sam a ‘what are you gonna do about it?’ look.
Sam, who had seen that look many times and knew how to pick and choose his battles, just shook his head and took the ticket.
It was a little cold for the middle of September, so there weren’t many people there. Perfect for riding the really good rides more than once. Sam put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and looked around.
“Alright, man. Pick a ride, any ride.”
Steve seemed a little overwhelmed at first, which Sam kind of understood. The rides at Coney Island circa 1935 probably weren’t as huge and fast as the ones now.
“How about that one?” He pointed up to the skydrop ride. Not Sam’s favorite. It felt like falling without a parachute, but worse. Too fast with nowhere to go but down. But Steve was used to jumping off of things without a parachute, so he might actually like it.
Turned out he was wrong.
“Man, I thought you said you don’t get nauseous.” He sat next to Steve on the bench and placed a hand on his back to steady him.
“I don’t,” Steve said, voice muffled with his head between his legs, “I’m not,”
“Then what’s wrong?” Sam wasn’t unaffected, but he found that focusing on the horizon going up and down was kind of like having his wings back and he almost enjoyed it. Unlike Steve, he knew that screaming took away that swooping feeling in his belly somewhat, so his voice was a little hoarse.
Steve turned to look at Sam, head still bent over his knees. He wasn’t green, but he looked shaken. “I don’t know it’s just, the falling wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”
“Jumping out of airplanes is probably more preferable to you, huh? That way you can control the landing.”
“Yeah.” Steve said shortly. Sam smoothed his hand horizontally along Steve’s upper back. Steve’s thick windbreaker hid what Sam knew to be very dense shoulder muscles, something Sam was eternally thankful for. He didn’t think he could do this if Steve was in nothing more than his too-tight shirts he liked wearing so much.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Steve sat up fully and Sam removed his hand. He asked, “You good to stand?”
Steve nodded and stood, bracing a hand on Sam’s shoulder for a moment. He held on tight before dropping his arm to his side.
“What’s next?” He asked, a little forced, like he was afraid of the answer.
Sam looked at the park map and chose a nice and easy ride with long swings that went high up in the air. “How about this one? No falling feeling.”
Steve heaved a small sigh of relief and nodded before they set off for the ride.
“So you didn’t like it either?” He said after a brief silence.
Sam pulled his gaze away from where he was staring at some poor sap missing all of his shots in a basketball game. “Nah, I don’t really like those kinds of rides.”
“You sure did scream a lot.”
He shrugged, unapologetic. “I’m a screamer. It helps.”
“Oh.” Steve’s voice sounded odd, but when Sam looked back at him, he was steadfastly staring at the ground.
“Yeah,” he continued, “you should try it. Next coaster we go on, feel free to scream your head off. I promise I won’t judge.”
“I’ll have to try it,” He jerked his head towards a test your strength game. “Think I could win?”
“I don’t know, man,” Sam himself had never won. No matter how hard he’d tried. “Those things are rigged. I could never quite reach the bell. I don’t know if even you could do it.”
“Is that a dare?”
Sam snorted inelegantly and stared at him, “Everything’s a dare to you, isn’t it?” Steve stared back like butter wouldn’t melt. “Fine, okay, another dare. No stakes, though.”
Steve conceded and paid the ridiculously expensive price.
“Three hits for six dollars, sir. Good luck!”
Steve glanced back at Sam and Sam gave him a thumbs up.
His first hit barely made it half way up. His second hit a little past that. Sam thought he was right in his assessment that the game was rigged. That is until Steve looked back at Sam over his shoulder, smiled, and fucking winked.
His third hit was a winner, the bell ringing obnoxiously though the game was all lights, and the small crowd that had gathered around Steve cheered. Sam refused to clap and shook his head while Steve picked out his prize. An obnoxiously large yellow minion from that kids movie.
Sam narrowed his eyes when Steve reached his side. “You are an awful person. And you’re not funny.”
Steve just grinned back. The plush minion was as big as his torso. “I would give this to you, but I don’t think it’ll fit in the car.”
Sam felt his eyes almost roll out of his skull before he flagged down a family with two small children.
After unloading the prize, they made their way to the ride.
Whistling low, Steve stopped at the base of the tall ride. “I don’t think they have towers that big back in New York.”
Sam just shrugged and bumped Steve’s shoulder. “You ready for this?”
Still looking up, Steve nodded. “No falling, right?”
“Nope,” or at least Sam assumed. “I mean obviously you’re being lowered at the end, but it’s so slow you can’t even feel it. Come on.”
They got to the front of the line quickly. For a second, Sam worried that Steve would be too big to fit, but the ride was made for all kinds of adults, and he was fine.
“How’s it feel?”
Steve kicked his legs and pushed around a little in his swing. “Feels weird.” He said at Sam’s questioning glance. “Like when I was a kid, swinging on the playground.” He smiled and Sam could almost see that kid. Tiny and sickly and enjoying one of life’s small pleasures. He made the swing sway from side to side, like he was trying to brush up against Sam’s swing seat.
Sam felt that stupidly warm feeling take over him again and gripped the cold chains of the swings.
“Don’t look down,” Sam said with a glance back at Steve when the swings started to rise.
Steve rolled his eyes and did exactly that. The asshole.
They didn’t talk during the ride. When Sam wasn’t staring at the spinning horizon, he was looking at Steve. Steve, who couldn’t seem to look away from the cloudless sky, the rides that looked so small and insignificant when they were up so high, the wide river that sprawled the length of the park and the thick wooded areas that bordered it.
A surge of extreme gratefulness welled in Sam. Grateful for what, exactly, Sam couldn’t name, but when he looked at Steve, he was just viciously glad that they were here. That they’d made it up in the sky, spinning around without having to worry about falling or people shooting at them. That, for once, Steve could be in the air like this without being in a war zone.
Not for the first time since the helicarrier disaster, Sam felt an extreme longing for his wings.
When the ride was over, Steve hopped off the swing and seemed to vibrate while waiting for Sam to get out of his own. “We should go on a coaster next.”
Sam, who was itching for the exact same thing, grinned. “Yes please. Which one?”
Steve shrugged and looked around the park before pointing to a neon green ride. “How about that one?”
It was called the Goliath and Sam hesitated, his smile slipping into a grimace. “Uh, you sure, man? This one goes backwards.”
As the words left his mouth, Sam knew this was the wrong thing to say. Steve smirked, crooked and teasing, and slung one arm around Sam’s shoulders, steering them towards the ride.
“Well, if you don’t think you can handle it, I can always go by myself.”
Scoffing, Sam pushed him away before scrubbing a hand roughly through his hair, causing Steve to duck away laughing, “Like hell am I letting you get on one of these things alone. Next thing I know, you get lost coming off the ride, I’m going crazy looking for you, and we’ve wasted a day because your dumb ass tried to go solo. Not happening.”
The look Steve gave him was odd, but Sam couldn’t decipher it. Steve opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. Then he said, “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”
“Yeah,” Sam smiled at the memory, “It was my cousin’s son. He was supposed to wait for the rest of the family to get off Space Mountain. We ended up spending two hours looking for him afterwards. Found him taking pictures with Mickey Mouse.” He shook his head, “That was twenty years ago, we’re never gonna let him forget it.”
Steve laughed and told Sam about the time he, Bucky, and a few other kids from his old neighborhood played a citywide game of hide and seek that ended with the police escorting everyone home at 3am.
The line for Goliath was blessedly short.
“Screaming helps, right?” Steve asked while the ride attendants checked their straps.
“It does.”
“Alright then.”
Sam leaned forward so he could see Steve around the shoulder bars. “This may sound weird, but holding hands also helps.” He wiggled his fingers.
Steve gave him a look that he didn’t bother deciphering. “Holding hands?” He said, eyebrow quirked.
Sam rolled his eyes. He refused to be embarrassed about offering a hand. “Trust me, it helps.”
“Do you often hold hands on roller coasters?”
Sam pointedly did not think of that time he held Margaret Turner’s hand when he was 15 riding the roller coasters in Hershey Park. This wasn’t a date.
“I’m just saying, man. Just in case.” The ride started to move backwards, but Steve continued to stare at Sam.
“You know, Sam,” Steve looked guileless, “if you wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask.”
Sam choked and barked out a laugh and hoped his blush wasn’t obvious. “Man you are something else.”
They didn’t talk again during the brief moment while the ride pulled back. Sam stared straight down. He may have been having second thoughts, but there was absolutely no way he was admitting this to Steve.
The ride locked in a ninety-degree angle. For a second they were suspended high up in the air, staring down at the ground. Sam took a deep breath and prepared for death’s sweet embrace.
Steve grabbed his hand.
When the ride was over, they were both shaky with adrenaline and grinning like fools. Steve didn’t seem to be in a hurry to let go of his hand, so Sam didn’t either. They didn’t release hands until the attendant told them to push up on the shoulder bars.
After that, it became an unspoken rule. Every coaster, they held hands. Sam tried hard not to read anything into it. But he liked it. A lot. Steve had a firm grip, soft and warm despite the brisk air. Very grounding. No calluses, nice and smooth. Sam figured now was an optimal time to stop thinking about it.
Steve just needed the support. Sam didn’t mind being there to hold him together while they were flying through the air at a hundred miles an hour. It was his job, after all.
They got hungry at around four.
“I want a burger, we can split an order of fries,” Sam suggested, “I don’t want to get sick eating too much with all these roller coasters.”
Steve raised a brow, “I thought you didn’t get nauseous.”
Sam spotted a food booth and led them towards it. “I don’t, but there’s no way I’m allowing even the possibility to puke all over Captain America.”
“I’m sure he’d forgive you.”
“I’m sure he would. Steve Rogers on the other hand would laugh at me for the rest of our lives. We’re splitting.”
Sam let Steve order his own burger first before cutting in to order for himself and pay for them both.
“I have enough money for both of us, Sam.” Steve waved his wallet around.
Sam just shrugged. “You paid my way in, remember?” When he saw Steve open his mouth to argue, Sam continued with, “Let me treat you, okay?”
Steve closed his mouth, but Sam knew better than to celebrate his victory too early.
“Fine.” He said. Sam was surprised he had yielded so soon, before Steve continued, “But now I want a slice of pizza, too.”
Sam, half convinced Steve was just being petty, let him order and pointedly shouldered him out of the way to pay the amused cashier.
“How’s your pizza?” Sam asked after they were seated.
Steve shrugged, said “Alright,” and stuffed the remaining slice in his mouth before starting on his burger.
“Damn, man, have you no home training?” Sam laughed.
Rolling his eyes, Steve paused to breathe. “If you can drink straight from every gallon of milk, water, and jug of orange juice we buy, I can stuff my face.”
Sam just inclined his head in agreement and said, “Touché,” because he wasn’t planning to use a cup any time soon.
When he was finished with his burger, Sam started picking at his fries. Steve was sipping his drink, pizza grease making his lips shiny. A smear of ketchup sat innocently near his mouth. It was all a little distracting.
“What are you staring at?” Steve asked, bemused.
Sam motioned to his own cheek, “You got a little something.” Steve’s tongue darted out to swipe over the corner of his mouth. Sam swallowed hard. “Yeah, it’s gone.”
His own food polished off, Steve started casting not-so-subtle glances at Sam’s fries. Sam rolled his eyes and pushed the container closer to him.
“I couldn’t possibly,” Steve said, despite his fingers obviously inching towards half full container.
“Eat the damn fries, Steve.”
Steve grinned and resumed stuffing his face.
“Wanna go on the Bizarro next?” Sam asked when they were almost done.
At Steve’s noncommittal shrug, Sam continued, “We could go at closing so we can enjoy the rest of the rides?”
“Mhmm,” Steve hummed around a mouthful of fries.
“But then again,” Sam said considering, “the park might close before either of us tap out.”
“That is a possibility.”
Sam shot him a suspicious look, “Do you have anything useful to add? Or do you just wanna eat all my food?”
Steve just gave a sly smile, “If you think you’re gonna lose, you can always forfeit. I’ll be nice about it.” Then he shoved the last of Sam’s fries in his mouth.
“No you won’t.” But before Steve could defend his honor, Sam stood and asked, “Where to next?”
“You choose,” he said, “I chose the last one.”
In the next few hours, they rode almost every ride twice. They still didn’t mention the hand holding thing, but Sam started to seek out Steve’s soft, tight grip. Steve’s fingers were always warm thanks to his super soldier blood-flow. Sam felt a little more secure knowing that, if he had to, he could name that as the reason for his growing desire to link their fingers together.
Sam didn’t want to think about the real reason. The all encompassing feeling of warmth that spread through him every time they pressed their palms together was probably not worth mentioning, anyway.
It was an hour to closing and the sun was low in the sky when they got to the biggest, fastest, and, in Sam’s most humble opinion, best ride in the park.
“Time to ride the Bizarro.” he said, staring at the big drop gleefully. Between the coasters and the thrill of touching Steve so much, the adrenaline spike was making him downright giddy. He knew he would eventually crash harder than a sugared up toddler, but for now, he felt like he could run a marathon.
The ride looked much more imposing in the dark.
“Yeah,” Steve breathed at his side. When Sam looked over, he was staring wide-eyed at the big drop. “How tall is that thing?”
Sam laughed and bounced on the balls of his feet. It almost felt like he was preparing to take off. He wanted to be up there. “Two hundred twenty-one feet.”
Steve swallowed. “Okay.” He clenched his jaw and jerked his head in a nod. “Okay.”
“And remember our dare.”
Steve nodded again, “Right.”
Sam stared at Steve for a moment and felt his enthusiasm wane.
“Hey man,” He dropped his voice and tried to catch Steve’s eye, putting a hand on his shoulder. Steve looked a little shell-shocked. “Hey,” Sam said again when Steve didn’t look at him. “We survived the Mind Eraser and the Goliath. We can definitely survive this.”
He would have mentioned all the other shit they’d survived. Hydra bases, the helicarriers, aliens, but that all seemed like things in the outside world. Here, in this park, it was only Sam and Steve, and the hardest thing either one of them had done here was go on the Goliath for the first time.
They hadn’t talked about their mission since they arrived, and Sam wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.
He was also going to mention something about holding hands and jumping off this cliff together, but he wasn’t sure if Steve had seen Thelma and Louise. And he wasn’t going to be the one to bring attention to their hand holding, either.
He stared at Steve, moving his hand from his shoulder to his elbow and squeezed. That seemed to rouse Steve from his trance. “Yeah.” Nodding, he finally looked back at Sam. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”
Like the rides before it, the line was incredibly short.
“Wanna sit in the front?”
Steve looked at him like Sam was out of his mind. He didn’t want to push Steve, but Sam loved the front, and they had been riding in the middle of every ride so far. But he would easily yield to Steve if he pressed for the middle again.
“I mean you don’t have to if you don’t-”
“Sure.” Steve made what Sam had learned by now was his ‘fight me’ face. “Let’s sit in the front.”
Sam studied him hard. “Man you don’t have to do everything just because I want to. If you don’t want to, I’m fine with sitting in the middle.”
“No, yeah, I know.” Steve grabbed Sam’s hand in a firm grip, pulling him to the front row. “We can sit in the front.” He didn’t let go of his hand and Sam didn’t comment.
When they were strapped in, he let himself look at their entangled hands. He was positive he’d never held hands with someone so much in one day.
When the ride started, Sam heard Steve take a deep breath and release it slowly.
“You okay?”
Steve swallowed. “Mhm,” he said, nodding while the ride made its climb up the incline. “Gosh, this is slow.”
Gosh. Like a good friend, Sam refrained from making the obvious old man joke and instead looked around. The ride was slow, and it was a long way up. The high drop apparently needed as much anticipation as it could get. In Sam’s personal opinion, fast accelerations were the best, but he could appreciate the suspense.
They were only about halfway to the top when Steve squeezed his hand compulsively. “Hey, Sam?”
Sam hummed in response and squeezed back once.
“Thanks.”
Sam made a questioning sound. He wasn’t scared, but the view sure was something. It was a long way down, but Sam found the height easy to ignore in favor of the inky mob of trees framing the large river that spanned past the length of the park. The river looked vast, more ominous, in the dark.
“Thanks for everything, okay?” Steve sounded shaky. Sam tore his gaze from the approaching curve to find that Steve was staring at Sam intently.
Any time, man, is what Sam meant to say. What he actually said was, “You know we’re not actually dying, right?”
Steve looked a little perplexed before he snorted and laughed. He faced forward again and his eyes widened, grin dropping. “Oh, here we go.”
He gripped Sam’s hand hard and they were falling and falling together.
And it really was flying. Sam screamed and whooped, basking in the thrills of the fastest ride in the park. He didn’t let the pang of sadness the loss of his wings always caused get to him. They were flying through the air like they hadn’t been able to do in months.
“Oh man,” Sam gushed when it was over, “That was perfect. That first drop was like...” he shook his head for lack of a proper word to describe the feeling of almost having his wings back. That first jump off high ground only to shoot back up, the feeling of almost freedom he felt
“I thought I was gonna have a heart attack,” Steve said, laughing and nodding, “Like I actually couldn’t breathe. For a second I thought my asthma was back. It just kept going.”
“Okay, okay,” Sam said, waving his free hand around, “I’m glad you got over your fear. We’re definitely going on this again.”
“Well yeah,” Steve said, smug, “I have a bet to win.”
Rolling his eyes, Sam dragged them to the end of the short line by their still linked hands.
They went on the ride again and again. After the fourth time, Sam was feeling a little winded, his throat was starting to hurt from all the screaming, and he was getting hungry. Steve also seemed to be waning in enthusiasm.
But Sam didn’t want to be the one to tap out first. And not at all because of the stupid bet.
It was just that today was the most fun Sam had had in a long time. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Steve smile so much.
And Steve really had a beautiful smile. Slightly dimpled and a little dirty around the edges.
Sam didn’t normally care for holding hands. Usually his fingers started cramping after a while. Sweaty palms were never fun and it just wasn’t worth it. But Sam could hold Steve’s hand forever and not care about a damn thing.
After the fifth time, it was 7:30.
“Park closes in half an hour, guys,” the attendant was apologetic. Sam looked around and saw only a few stragglers still getting in their last rides. “This is the last call.”
Turning to Steve, Sam asked, “One more?”
Steve nodded. “One more.”
During the ascent, Sam looked down at their hands. “You know,” he said a little reluctantly, “no one actually won the bet.”
Steve just shrugged. “That’s okay, I’m sure we’ll think of things to do.”
“And we still got your diary.”
“It’s not a diary!” Steve said indignantly, “It’s a list!”
Sam had to purse his lips to hold back a smile. “Nothing wrong with a diary.”
“It’s not a diary!”
The curve was approaching, so Sam just hummed noncommittally and said, “I dare you to keep your eyes open this time.”
When the ride was over, the park still hadn’t closed, though it was nearly deserted. A few stragglers shivered around some of the few food stands still open.
While they were walking back to the car, fingers still interlocked, they saw an attendant halfheartedly advertising a brightly lit game. One of those seemingly easy ones where you only have to knock all the blocks down with one hit.
“Think I could do it?” Steve nodded over at the game.
Sam absently swung their hands between them.
He shrugged. “Probably.”
Steve dropped their hands and Sam was barrelled over by disappointment. His whole arm felt incredibly cold.
The game was three dollars for three throws. Steve would most certainly win, so Sam looked around for a family they could give the prize to if Steve didn’t want to keep it.
Steve won on the second throw and asked Sam which prize he should get, throwing uncomfortable glances at the Captain America and Iron Man plush dolls on the far wall.
There weren’t many to choose from, and Sam took the noble route and obeyed Steve’s silent wishes. He decided to stick with what he knew and nodded to a small plush bird. It was red, Sam’s favorite color, and had white markings on its wings.
“You hungry?” Sam asked when Steve claimed his prize, turning for the exit. “I’m kind of feeling pasta. It’s only eight, we can find an Olive Garden.” Steve didn’t respond, and when Sam glanced over, he saw him chewing on his lip and staring intensely at the small bird in his hands.
“Steve?” Sam stopped and turned to face him. At his questioning look, Steve looked up and seemed to debate with himself before holding up the red bird between them.
It was dark and windy and there was only the cheap lights from the games and lamps to illuminate his face, but Sam was sure Steve was blushing.
“For you,” he said after a short pause.
Sam blinked before he let the warm feeling he’s been pushing down all day show on his face. Steve’s breath hitched and his face split into a nervous smile.
Sam took the bird with both hands, letting his right hand cup the back of Steve’s. “Thanks.” He didn’t let go.
Steve’s eyes widened and he flipped his hand so they were palm to palm, like they’d been doing all day. But this time it was different. There was no thinly veiled pretense here. Sam found himself staring at Steve’s clear blue eyes, trying to process the fact that they were damn near gazing at each other, their deep breaths making clouds of fog fill the space between them.
Sam dropped his eyes and his gaze locked on the plush bow of Steve’s lips. He considered leaning in, because when he thought back on the day, he realized they were leading to this point, anyway. A glance up showed him that Steve was staring at him intensely, so Sam might as well-
They jerked their heads to the direction of a pointed cough.
An embarrassed-looking park attendant standing off to their left was fiddling with her employee shirt and avoiding eye contact. She managed to choke out, “I’m sorry, the park is closed. We need you to leave,” before hightailing it back over to her snickering co-workers.
Moment thoroughly broken, Sam laughed, a little nervously, and met Steve’s eyes again.
“Let’s go.”
Steve blinked, dazed, and gave a jerky nod.
Sam’s head was kind of spinning by the time they arrived at the car.
“Feel like driving?”
Steve hummed an assent, but when they were both buckled in, he failed to turn on the car.
He cleared his throat.
“Sam...”
“Steve.” Sam said when Steve didn’t seem like he was going to finish any time soon.
“Sam, I… I just…” Steve was staring straight ahead, blinking rapidly and fingers tightening on the steering wheel. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.
“Hey,” Sam placed his hand over Steve’s, rubbing a bit in an effort to get him to unclench his fingers. “I’m right there with you, man.” Because he knew what Steve was thinking. The crippling doubts and fears of ruining their friendship and one hundred scenarios where this could go very, very wrong.
Steve turned and looked at him for a long time before his serious expression cracked and shifted to relieved, and then a little teasing. “We weren’t very subtle, were we?”
Happy to be back on familiar ground, Sam laughed, “I don’t know about you, but I was subtle as hell.”
Steve looked at him like he was full of it, and Sam laughed again because yeah, he kind of was.
“You bought me lunch.” Steve said, tone flat.
“You paid for my ticket.” Sam shot back.
“Then you made me share those fries with you, like those dogs from that movie.”
Sam scoffed at that. “You were practically begging to share my food."
"Was not!"
"You won a prize for me.” He nodded at the innocent looking bird on the dashboard.
Steve actually blushed at that. “Well, you asked to hold my hand!” He exclaimed, flailing his own hand around a bit for emphasis.
“You actually did it, though. Those kind of cancel each other out.”
“You,” Steve said with finality, like he’d won, “suggested Six Flags in the first place.”
Sam thought about it for a moment before deciding, yeah, technically he asked Steve out on a date. Not counting all those restaurants they ate at during their journey since they first left DC, which Sam categorized as just plain eating together, Sam accidentally asked Steve out on their first date.
Well. This was one for the books.
“Ok then,” Sam said, looking around at the empty parking lot, “On a list of first dates, this is definitely in my top five.”
Steve beamed. Sam was half convinced that man’s smile could harness the sun. “So this is a date.”
“Well, an accidental date, yeah, but if you’re amiable-”
“-oh I’m very amiable-”
“-then yeah,” Sam grinned, “this is a date. You’re paying for dinner, though.”
Steve looked like nothing would make him happier than to pay for Sam’s meal, which Sam could appreciate. He gave a lopsided smile, said, "Alright.” and moved to turn on the car.
“Hey,” Sam said suddenly before Steve could reach for the keys. When Steve turned to look at him, Sam leaned over the gear shift, slowly, to give Steve an out, and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss.
At least, it was supposed to be chaste. Steve had stilled against Sam, but after a second, he seemed to come to life, sliding one hand behind Sam’s neck, placing the other on Sam’s shoulder.
Steve was bold, parting Sam’s lips with his tongue before stroking in, a little inexperienced, a little too eager, but Sam was lit up all the same. His skin felt too tight and his breaths came a little quick, and when they pulled back, Steve’s eyes were dark, the sparse light in the parking lot making them glitter. Sam reflected that the small car probably wasn't the best place to do this.
Sam licked his tingling lips painfully aware of the way Steve’s eyes dipped to track the movement, his hands curling into loose fists against the thick material of Sam’s jacket. Sam moved in again, this time managing to keep the kiss to a gentle peck, before leaning back in his seat and buckling up.
When he looked over, Steve was biting his lip and staring at him. Sam felt himself smile lazily. “I didn’t get to do that earlier.”
Steve cleared his throat.
“So,” Steve said a little hoarse, “Does that mean the official date is over?”
Sam felt good, a little giddy with relief, and he didn’t want the night to end. He didn’t want reality to come crashing in. “I’m still hungry,” he said, “you said you would buy me dinner, right?”
“Tonight?”
“A man’s gotta eat.”
Steve nodded and pulled out of the empty parking lot. “You said Italian, right? That's romantic.”
Sam hummed noncommittally and relayed the directions to Steve. They sat in comfortable silence while the streetlights thinned out and nothing but dense, dark trees surrounded them. When Sam shot little glances at Steve from the corner of his eye, he seemed tense, like he was deep in thought. His fingers drummed on the wheel offbeat from the low radio playing some hip hop song Sam had never heard of.
When they pulled up to the restaurant, Steve made no move to get out.
“What’s on your mind?” Sam asked, because he really was hungry, and the restaurant looked a little crowded.
Steve shook his head, “I had a lot of fun, Sam.”
Sam smiled, “Me too.”
“Good, I just.” He flexed his fingers on the wheel before unclipping his seatbelt to turn and face Sam, “There’s a lot going on, and… I…”
So they were having this conversation now. In the parking lot of an Olive Garden. Because this was Sam’s life.
Sam continued for him, because it looked like Steve would need a little help. “You don’t know what’s gonna happen between us.”
“This sounds dumb but… today was… I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. But now…”
“Now reality’s back to kick you in the face.”
Steve winced. “Yeah.”
“Well,” Sam said as the world threatened to come back in painful clarity, “How about this. We eat, crash in the nearest three star hotel, because I meant it when I said no more roaches, and we just see where it goes. This doesn’t have to be an uphill battle.”
Steve, who had let out a chuckle at the hotel comment, looked hopeful. He glanced down. Their hands had somehow become tangled again. “We’ve done an awful lot of hand holding today, haven’t we?”
Sam laughed, feeling lighter now that everything was out in the open. Well not everything. But the rest could be saved for later.
He lifted their hands, “I don’t think I’ve ever held someone’s hand this much in one day.”
“Really?” Steve brought their hands to his lips, pressing a sweet and firm kiss against Sam’s knuckles, “Does that mean I’m special?”
And Sam knew this was his line, his chance to say something sarcastic and witty in the face of Steve’s crippling sincerity. It was just a part of their banter, and he knew Steve expected it.
Instead, Sam leaned in so Steve could taste his happiness, a repeat of earlier but with more teeth and a little laughter. When they pulled back, Steve was flushing bright red and had a matching grin.
Sam thought of going on all the roller coasters twice, of psychological nausea, of following this man into war zones more times than he can count, of the little plush bird that was staring at them from the dashboard, of that first kiss in an empty parking lot and crappy Italian food and fighting side by side. He shook his head and leaned back in.
“Yeah,” he said, no longer bothering to push down the feeling of pure love that suffused his chest, “you must be.”