If anyone asked why Sam had refused free room and board at The Avengers Tower, then he would simply invite them to one of The Avengers game nights. In between teaching a Norse deity the rules of a Monopoly (and yes, Thor, the rules are the same in the regular one and The Simpsons edition), losing (again) to Natasha at poker, or yelling at Steve for cheating at Apples to Apples, he was playing kiddie games. Sam Wilson would not call himself an old man, but he was quite sure that spin the bottle was supposed to be something left in the past.

Then a again, there was no way to reason with anyone there, save Steve and Bucky. Sam moved in closer to him.

Bucky looked over to him. His eyes were sharp, and like Steve the alcohol seemed to not effect him. For a moment, their fingers touched - metal to flesh - and Sam's heart raced.

Okay, maybe this game wouldn't be so bad if the bottle landed on someone next to him.

Sam's eyes searched across the room. Most everyone looked drunk. Natasha had a too big smile, the kind that she would only plaster on when she's drunk, as mission was too good to be true, or she had to fake it before she could make it. It had to be the first - Sam wouldn't want it to be any other reason.

Clint was signing something, but he was turned to Bruce so Sam could not see what his hands were communicating. He was smiling too, though.

Everyone was smiling together.

Well, that was a first.

Thor looked around. "Who shalt continue this game?" His arm was wrapped Jane Foster's waist, and her head was against his chest. Though he had sat down among his friends, he had refused to play.

"Barnes hasn't gone yet." Natasha's smile widened. "Neither has Sam." Her eyes locked on Sam's for a moment, and his shoulders hardened.

"I'll go," Bucky suddenly said. He rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous, but I'll go."

"You know what they say, Buck." Steve smirked. "Heroes have to make sacrifices."

Sam bit his lip. What were the chances of it landing on him?

One hundred percent, it seemed, as Bucky merely moved the empty vodka bottle a few inches until it directly pointed to Sam.

He smirked. "It's your lucky day, Falcon."

He expected someone to make a comment or object, but everyone was silent. Sam could feel their eyes on him, waiting for him to go on.

Ah man, he thought. I wanted to do this tonight, so I might as well.

Sam had only drank Gatorade that night, so he was a bit startled by the taste of scotch on Bucky's lips. Soon enough, however, the taste was gone and so was everyone else. All that existed was him and Bucky, their bodies pressed together and hearts beating in tune.

Okay, maybe he was thinking a bit too seriously for a game of spin the bottle. Still, he had been able to drown out the others for a while and get a little action. That at least made the night a little enjoyable.

The two pulled away, both grinning.

"Someone else spin," Sam said, his eyes still on Bucky.

Nick was the one to spin, though Sam never saw who he landed on. His thoughts were on getting home and the man beside him, and the thoughts weren't mutually exclusive. Another great thing about his new apartment, even if he did have to pay for it himself, was the privacy.