in your black heart (is where you'll find me)
“Hey,” he tries, “hey darlin’, can you pass me the milk?”
“Oh sure,” Sam responds after a long pause. “Here you go. Sweetie.”
“Thanks, hon, you’re a real doll,” Bucky drawls, and pours himself another bowl of cereal, tops up his coffee, takes a mouthful of milk straight from the carton just for good measure. Sam narrows his eyes.
“That’s disgusting,” he sighs, and Bucky makes deliberate eye contact, swallows another mouthful. Sam holds his gaze. “Cupcake, come on, I gotta drink that shit, stop putting your mouth all over it.”
“I’ll put my mouth all over wherever I want,” Bucky tells him. “Sweetheart.”
“Will you just,” Sam mutters, and sips his black coffee like he’s totally unruffled, and Bucky is startled to discover that he’s the one who’s blushing. Shit. Maybe this was a tactical error.
No Quarter