[ He wonders when the last time had been that they'd been so open and honest with one another.
Those years they spent running, the way they'd leaned on one another? No. It had never been this brutally raw, even when Steve had felt as close to Sam as he had, and then, in the middle of all that, he'd simply had to come to terms with the fact Sam had disappeared from his life in the blink of an eye. He can't recall how much time he'd dedicated to searching for him, how much time he'd sacrificed thinking that Sam might have been somewhere out in the world, surviving rather than dust. It doesn't feel like that now, not with his arms around him and the calloused feel of his thumb against his cheek. The roughness of his kiss, the warmth of his body pressed to his.
Steve staggers under the weight of it and melts.
The second kiss isn't testing at all, firm as he pushes against him and seeks more. There's that unfamiliar taste that comes with it, how it beckons Steve even closer than he already is, and that, on its own, should have been enough to tell him that this isn't just grief or missed opportunities or what-ifs. This is the city toying with them, with his feelings as it had the very day he'd arrived, but Steve can't bring himself to slow down or pull away, loosening his hold to skim a hand down Sam's back before pushing his fingers under his shirt to feel skin. He's solid. Real.
And when he turns his head to break the kiss, to breathe, Steve's right back in Sam's space, their foreheads resting together as he soaks it all in. ]
You sure? [ is all he asks. It might not even be the right question or the right thing to say, but Steve needs him in every way Sam is offering. And from the look Sam had given him, Steve believes Sam needs that too. ]
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Those years they spent running, the way they'd leaned on one another? No. It had never been this brutally raw, even when Steve had felt as close to Sam as he had, and then, in the middle of all that, he'd simply had to come to terms with the fact Sam had disappeared from his life in the blink of an eye. He can't recall how much time he'd dedicated to searching for him, how much time he'd sacrificed thinking that Sam might have been somewhere out in the world, surviving rather than dust. It doesn't feel like that now, not with his arms around him and the calloused feel of his thumb against his cheek. The roughness of his kiss, the warmth of his body pressed to his.
Steve staggers under the weight of it and melts.
The second kiss isn't testing at all, firm as he pushes against him and seeks more. There's that unfamiliar taste that comes with it, how it beckons Steve even closer than he already is, and that, on its own, should have been enough to tell him that this isn't just grief or missed opportunities or what-ifs. This is the city toying with them, with his feelings as it had the very day he'd arrived, but Steve can't bring himself to slow down or pull away, loosening his hold to skim a hand down Sam's back before pushing his fingers under his shirt to feel skin. He's solid. Real.
And when he turns his head to break the kiss, to breathe, Steve's right back in Sam's space, their foreheads resting together as he soaks it all in. ]
You sure? [ is all he asks. It might not even be the right question or the right thing to say, but Steve needs him in every way Sam is offering. And from the look Sam had given him, Steve believes Sam needs that too. ]