#ugh angst

matt loved his family.

he loved it when his father, francois, would bring random women back from a random club that he visits every night. matt loved when he could hear whatever they were doing from his room.

matt loved it when his father, oliver, would randomly scream out of nowhere and accuse matt of doing outrageous things. matt loved when oliver would sob his heart out in the dead of night.

matt loved it when he could smell the scent of weed — or whatever the hell he was smoking — coming from his brother's, allen's, room. matt loved it when allen would keep himself lock in his room all day, probably high or something.

matt loved his family.

~

Steve is a simple man, he wears his heart on his sleeve. But he doesn’t always around Bucky, not like he used to. Time and the shield have given him a hardness. There are things he swallows, things he’ll carry to his grave, and those things create distance, even when he doesn’t want them to.

Bucky looks at him, brows low and knit in concern. He wants to ask but he’s afraid Steve won’t share and yet another brick would be cemented into the wall he’s built. Bucky knows that hardness, he’s seen it in himself, it’s not good for Steve.

“Hey,” Bucky says, softly.

Steve keeps his eyes down, but nods to acknowledge him. A deep sigh comes out. “Hey.”

Bucky walks a little closer, each step making Steve stiffen. “Something we need to talk about?”

“No, everything’s fine.”

Bucky chuckles. “You’re not a good liar, Steve.” Steve keeps silent. He doesn’t dare open his mouth, fearing that what he’s locked in his chest will spill out like water through the cracks of a dam, or blood through the cracks of his armor. “Does it have something to do with what you may have heard earlier today?” Steve finally looks up. “Thought so.”

“Does what I heard matter, Buck?”

“It matters if you misheard it.”

A look of regret glazes over Steve’s eyes before he looks down again. “You and Sam-”

“Are friends,” Bucky interjects. “So he tells me when something’s wrong, that’s what friends do.”

“He told you he didn’t feel right about us, Bucky. What could I have misheard?”

“The part where he said he didn’t feel right because you don’t talk, Steve!” Bucky says, raising his voice just enough to penetrate Steve’s thick skull. “He’s your boyfriend and ever since you got him out of the Raft it’s like he’s in love with a fuckin’ stone.”

Steve shakes his head, indignant. “He shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

Bucky scoffs. “No he shouldn’t have, but he knew what could’ve happened, but he loved you and trusted you enough to believe that this would all work out somehow, like it always does with you.”

“Maybe he put his trust in the wrong person,” Steve says. “Maybe you two belong together.”

Bucky takes a step back. The silence leaves holes for the tension to fill, and fill quickly.  “You think I’d take Sam from you?”

“You spend enough time together…”

“Sam’s amazing, but he loves you. Even if I wanted him, I wouldn’t stand in the way of that, Steve. You know I wouldn’t.” Steve shakes his head, and Bucky puts his hand on his shoulder. “You know I wouldn’t.”

Steve looks up at Bucky with tearful eyes. He takes a deep breath, and his voice cracks as he asks his friend, “How do I fix this?”

The door to their bedroom is shut when Steve comes home from a long walk. Bucky told him Sam hasn’t spoken more than a word to him since that morning before he stepped out of their safe house to give them space. Steve knocks and waits, every second that passes feels like a weight on his ankles dragging him down. He’ll drown if Sam doesn’t answer, he’ll drown if this is the end.

But Sam does answer, in one of his softest t-shirts and a pair of boxers. He’s just rolled out of a nap but his eyes are red, he’s been crying. Steve almost feels like crying just looking at him.

Steve grins apologetically, and from behind his back he pulls a bouquet of flowers with a card attached. Sam sighs. This isn’t what he wants, he wants Steve to actually talk to him. He wants it to be like it was when they first met and bared their souls to each other as if they’d known each other for years.

Sam takes the flowers and opens the card, which reads: I don’t want to lose you. He looks at his boyfriend and Steve almost can’t look him in the eyes.

“Baby…”

“I don’t know why you put up with me,” Steve says “You have every right to be upset. You have every right to be confused. But what I feel for you hasn’t changed, Sam, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” he replies. “But you need to stop worrying about how I feel about you and start asking me how I feel about you. You need to talk to me.”

Steve nodded. “I know.”

Sam puts the flowers to the side and kisses him, letting their lips linger for just a moment before pulling away and smiling. “I love you, Steve. I’m not leaving you, are you leaving me?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m with you to the end of the line, Sam.”

They kiss again, Sam pulls him into their bedroom, and Steve kicks the door shut behind them.