"On your right!"
"On your left!"
The two sentences came at the exact same time as two people rushed past Sam, who kept up his own (relatively slow) pace. He scowled at the two figures already drawing away, remembering to not even mumble angrily under his breath at them, because that would require air that he could not afford to expend on anything other than running.
At first, it had been- not precisely fun, doing early morning runs with Steve (and, whenever Steve could drag him out, the man who had called himself James, because that had been his only given name, because why would HYDRA give a name to a tool), but it had given him a sense of accomplishment, of rightness, somehow. After the Winter Soldier had grounded him during their fight on the helicarrier, he had really wanted to hurt him, but then he was too busy fighting Rumlow and had put the Winter Soldier out of his mind temporarily.
And then he and Steve had gone off to find a ghost, the brainwashed master assassin of a secret organization that was now scattered and visible, and after almost 4 weeks of dead ends and clues that lead right back to where they had started, they had gone back to their most recent hotel room and found a bunch of incapacitated HYDRA agents, and a broken, scared man with a robotic arm and an undecipherable expression on his face as he looked at them.
And then they had begun the oh-so-slow process of healing, all while they were traveling, trying to stay one step ahead of HYDRA while still trying to take out as much of that organization as possible. That, of course, led them to people like Tony Stark, who had outfitted Sam with a very cool new set of wings, and Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, who had been there to help get the three of them out of some pretty tight situations.
And as James started to get better, he started joining Steve and Sam on more of their morning excursions, always managing to keep pace with Steve, while Sam, who did not have super-soldier serum pumping through his veins, had to jog along at a mere mortal's pace.
After what seemed like decades, but was in reality only 2 years, they had finally been able to come back to DC, where SHIELD was rebuilding, and people were still getting over the latest threat (which had been taken care of by the Avengers, with the addition of a sniper shadow with long brown hair and an unerring aim for anyone who was threatening the figure with the red, white and blue suit), and start up their lives again. For Sam, that meant getting a job, getting an apartment, and going to a local gay bar to grind against hot, sweaty, half-naked bodies.
For Steve and the man who was now calling himself Bucky, that meant getting an apartment together, and living with each other, and being such an adorable couple that Sam found himself mock-gagging at their sweetness to hide the desperate ache he felt for a relationship like theirs.
Of course, there were also times that Sam thought that the super-soldier serums that had been administered to Steve and Bucky had enhanced all of their qualities, such as being super annoying, which was what they did any time the three of the went for a run.
Sam wondered what he was going to find at the end of his lap, then wondered if it was worth it to just slow to a walk, mainly so that he would have more time until the newest round of embarrassment by Steve and Bucky started.
When he finally finished his lap, Steve and Bucky were already leaning against a tree, making out in front of everyone, and Sam was pretty sure that the sweat on their skin was more due to their current activities than their past one, and mentally reminded himself to calm down.
"Hey, c'mon guys, you're making me nauseous," he gasped out as he walked over and dropped to the ground at the base of another tree. He opened his water bottle and gulped down a third of the bottle and poured the rest all over himself, shutting his eyes as the blissfully cool water washed over his body.
As he was sitting, he heard Steve and Bucky stop making out and start rummaging through their bag, then walk over to him. When he cracked open an eye, he saw them standing in front of him, Steve holding a microphone and Bucky holding a video camera.
"So tell us, Mr. Wilson, how does it feel being slower than two 97-year-olds?" asked Steve with a grin, while Bucky smirked.
"Don't worry, Mr. Wilson," Bucky stage-whispered. "You're a champion in our hearts," he said as he put his arm over his heart.
"I hate you both right now, you know that, right?" replied Sam. "Hate you. So much. And put those things away or I will break them."
But as Steve and Bucky wandered away to put the things away and resumed their making out (which now included groping, lovely), Sam thought that he wouldn't trade those two friends for the world.