we've made it. the last chapter. i really don't have much to say here other than that i hope you enjoy!
xXx
Sarah had always been able to tell when something was up with her brother. It was a combination of sisterly instinct and the fact that when it came to matters of love, Sam was far from subtle, especially given that he'd only had one significant partner in the past. He hadn't even gotten crushes as a kid. As such, Sam's tells simply did not change.
In other words: something had happened between her brother and Bucky. But how, specifically, did Sarah know this?
Because whenever Bucky got within ten feet of him, Sam always had an excuse to leave the room. Because whenever Bucky touched him, even if it was just to pass by, Sam jumped about thirty damn feet in the air. God, he'd always been so dramatic about this kind of thing. Sarah still remembered when Sam had introduced Riley to the family—he'd made himself sick from worry.
No, literally. Sam had run a 100+ fever for the first half of his and Riley's visit, much to his embarrassment and everyone else's—but especially Riley's—amusement.
So Sarah knew her brother was going through something. And while she would have preferred to stay out of it, Bucky's distraught expression after Sam evaded him for the nth time that Monday finally succeeded in pushing her to action. Well, that, and also—
"Is Sam… okay?" May asked warily as Sam dodged Bucky to head into the back of the house, her arm around Sarah's shoulders as they sat on the couch watching—trying to watch—Law & Order reruns. An attempt to distract themselves from the brutal reality that May's flight was tomorrow afternoon. Meanwhile, AJ and Cass were playing down by the lake, with Peter as their supervision.
Sarah sighed, finally responding with, "Yes and no."
May tilted her head. "Do you want to go talk to him?"
Sarah made the mistake of glancing over at Bucky, who looked like someone had kicked his metaphorical puppy as he frowned and disappeared into the kitchen. Dammit.
"Well, I guess someone has to help my brother get his head out his ass," she said with another sigh, reaching across her chest to squeeze May's hand and indicate she was getting up. "Might as well be me." Lord knew she had the most experience doing it. And, to be fair, Sam had comforted her many a time after nasty breakups throughout high school and college, too.
May chuckled, removing her arm from around Sarah's shoulders and allowing her to stand. "Let me know if you need any help."
"Of course." Sarah winked at May before heading to the back of the house where her brother had vanished, flashing Bucky an apologetic smile as she passed by the kitchen.
Wow. She never thought she'd see the world's most feared assassin—former assassin, she could all but hear Sam correct her—look so… well, not pitiful, per se. Distressed, maybe?
Eh. Close enough.
Sam was exactly where Sarah suspected he'd be—their parents' old bedroom, long since refashioned into her own. Once upon a time, Sarah might've been annoyed by his presence, deeming it an invasion of her privacy. But now?
Well. Half the universe disappearing and returning, Sam being one of them, could make any sibling a smidge more forgiving.
"So, you finally realized you're in love with Bucky?" she offered, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wooden doorframe.
Sam jumped—at her blunt question or her dry tone, Sarah wasn't sure. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but instead sighed the second he met her eyes. "Damn. Am I that obvious?"
Sarah shrugged, moving forward to join him in her bedroom. "To me, yeah. But I'm pretty sure you've accidentally convinced Bucky you hate him."
Sam grimaced. "Go figure." He placed a picture frame back on her dresser. Sarah hadn't even noticed he'd been holding it.
The photo was one of himself and Riley, standing with just about the whole Wilson family. Their parents, Sarah herself, her husband, aunts and uncles and cousins, too. Maybe the only image of everyone together with Riley that they had.
"Sorry," Sarah murmured, fingertips brushing the silver frame. "I should've given you that picture a long time ago."
Sam shook his head. "Nah. I know Riley was important to you, too." A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. "He would have wanted you to keep this one here."
Here. Their home, Sarah knew. Where their parents had raised them, where she was raising Cass and AJ, where memories of a different, impossible future could be preserved.
Sam sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Sarah joined him, allowing a beat to pass before she asked, "So… how did you know?"
She didn't need to specify her question further. There was only one possible subject she could be referring to, after all.
Sam sighed a second time before giving her an amused—if a tad tired—smile. "Three things: Peter Parker, you and May, and…" His palms flexed, clutching at the sheets of her bed before he slackened his grip. "A lot of dreaming about Riley."
Sarah nodded. The first she didn't really get—though she would demand the details later—but the last two? It made sense to her that she and May's developing relationship might spark a light bulb for Sam regarding his own love life, sure. And Riley…
Well, Sam loved Bucky now the way he'd once loved—still loved—Riley. Of course his subconscious would react to that truth. Though Sarah hated that said reaction had been in the form of painful nightmares for her brother.
Sam shook his head. "Can't believe it took me so long to realize."
"Hey, hey," Sarah admonished, giving him a faux stern look, "do not be so hard on yourself. Remember how long it took you to recognize your feelings for Riley?" Of course, Riley had been the first and, for a while, the only person Sam had ever fallen for. Still—her point stood.
Sam snorted. "You're saying I have a history with being slow?"
"I'm saying you fall in love in a way and at a pace unique to you, and you shouldn't be ashamed of it," Sarah corrected. "Didn't you and May kind of talk about that already a few days ago?"
Sam made a so-so gesture with his hand. "Eh. Sort of." He gave Sarah a soft smile. "Thanks for the reminder."
"Anytime."
Sarah allowed a comfortable quiet to fall afterwards. For one, she didn't want to push her brother in a way that might make him uncomfortable. But more importantly, whatever was going on between Sam and Bucky was not her responsibility, although she loved them both to death. She would lend an ear and maybe—maybe—offer a word of advice, assuming she had any appropriate to give.
"So… Bucky thinks I hate him?" Sam said dryly, effectively breaking the silence between them, and Sarah couldn't stop herself from laughing in response. Of course that was how Sam would want to start whatever the hell conversation they were about to have.
"I may have exaggerated a little bit," she admitted with a wide grin, earning a chuckle from her brother. "But I will say that he's pretty distressed because of how you keep avoiding his skinny ass."
Sam shot her a dubious look. "Really? You've been staring at his ass?"
Sarah would have shoved him if it weren't for the mischievous glint in Sam's eyes. Brothers. They never did grow up. "I mean, I have eyes," she teased, "but don't worry—you won't have any competition from me." Sam would be SOL if he did.
But no, Sarah was more than content with staring at May. Staring into May's gorgeous brown eyes, for one, but Sarah was not opposed to staring at others of May's features, either.
Sam raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, so you and May have finally made it official?"
Sarah was tempted to remind him of the reason they were having this conversation—an emotionally-troubled centenarian by the name of James Buchanan Barnes and Sam's feelings for him—but decided to cut her brother a little slack. If he was going to offer vulnerability, it wouldn't hurt for her to do the same.
"Not yet," she admitted. "Long distance is… complicated." Long distance with hers and May's lives was even more so.
Sam nodded. "It is." He paused. "You aren't gonna let that stop you, though."
The Are you? went unspoken, but Sarah knew her brother well enough to hear it all the same.
"Depends," Sarah said with as much nonchalance as she could muster, pretending she hadn't made up her mind the second May had offered to stay in Delacroix an extra day. Too bad every perfect moment had been spoiled so far. "Are you going to overthink your way out of confessing to Bucky?"
Sam snorted. "I'm halfway through trying."
Sarah gently elbowed him in the side. "Come on, Sam. Y'all are good for each other. Ten bucks says he cries tears of joy when you kiss him."
"Sarah, I am not betting on Bucky's reaction—"
"Oh, please, you know I'm teasing."
"—yes, I do know you're teasing, but as your brother I'm legally obligated to give you shit about it. You're welcome."
Fair enough. Sarah had used the inverse excuse to justify her own taunts toward Sam in the past.
Another silence fell between them, perhaps a hint tenser than the previous, and Sarah once again waited for Sam to take the lead. She couldn't force him to speak, and even if she could, she wasn't so cruel as to not allow him time to collect his thoughts. Relationships and feelings were hard enough on their own. Bearing the shield on top of it, and with the object of affection being Sam's loyal partner?
Sarah couldn't begin to imagine all that was going through her brother's head.
"I guess… I'm trying to decide if it's worth it," Sam admitted after a pause. He now held both his hands in his lap, his shoulders at least a little looser than when Sarah had first entered the room. "Worth the risk of—of screwing us up." He chuckled. "In retrospect, I'm pretty sure Bucky had been interested in me for the better part of a year."
Sarah hummed her agreement. She personally felt it was longer, but—well, now was not the time to debate technicalities.
"If I'm right about that, then I feel like I can say his feelings haven't really interfered with our rapport, right? He's always been a protective asshole, so he'll probably continue to be one even if we…" Sam cleared his throat. "You know. Get together."
Sarah bit her lip to disguise an amused smile. It was cute, really. Her brother's embarrassed hesitance. Somehow she resisted the urge to tease him for it—there would be plenty of time for that later. "So what I'm hearing is that the only real difference between y'all would be what, an annoying amount of PDA?"
Sam laughed. "Shit, I bet Bucky is the kind of guy who likes PDA."
Obviously. Bucky could barely keep his hands off her brother as their relationship stood now. And it was only with Sam he demonstrated such physical affection.
"If you want my opinion," Sarah began, "which I know you do, or else you wouldn't be talking to me right now… I think being with Bucky will be worth whatever you put into it."
Sam opened his mouth, presumably to ask what she meant, but Sarah continued before he could interrupt. "You two make each other ridiculously happy, that much is clear. And not gonna lie, I could see y'all settling down somewhere in the country together when it comes your turn to pass down the shield. The question is if you want that with Bucky, and if you do, are you willing to do the work to get and to keep it."
There was a weighty pause before Sam exhaled, nodding. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
He hadn't answered her, not really. But Sarah didn't need an answer—not when she already knew what it would be. "May and I can keep the boys entertained after dinner tonight," she offered. "If you want to have a chat with Bucky on the docks. Clear skies, no rain coming until tomorrow. The sunset will be real nice."
Sam gave her a bewildered look. "How did you know I wanted to talk to him at sunset?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Because you're the same sap who planned to confess to Riley under the stars before he beat you to it." So predictable! As she'd said—exactly the same tells.
Sam opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. "Dammit."
Sarah laughed. Being right never got old.
"If you're letting me have the sunset tonight, then you should confess to May at sunrise tomorrow," Sam countered. "I'll make sure to sleep in."
"What, are we divvying up times of day?" Sarah sputtered. She loved her brother, but seriously. "No, Samuel, I think I'll talk to May whenever the moment feels right." Again, a tragedy that two of such moments had been squandered already, even if through no fault of her own.
Sam smiled. "But you do plan to talk to her, then?"
Sarah returned his smile, tension she hadn't realized she'd been carrying dissipating from her shoulders when she said, "Yeah. I do."
Because May was more than worth it. 'It' being whatever problems they'd have to face with a thousand miles looming between them. Sarah would be damned if they couldn't make a relationship work, but even if they failed, she knew May had become the kind of love where the Parkers would always be part of their family.
Sam's gentle smile became a knowing smirk. "Oh, wow. You've got it bad for her."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "No worse than you for Bucky."
"Touché." He hummed, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna date a white girl?"
"Samuel, your boy is literally whiter than milk."
Sam burst out laughing at her exasperated retort, and it was a matter of seconds before Sarah broke, too, clutching at her stomach as her shoulders shook with her own elated laughter.
Yeah. They'd all be okay.
xXx
Getting Bucky onto the docks at sunset was easier said than done, Sam soon realized. The stubborn jerk had offered to do everyone's dishes after dinner—okay, that offer was the opposite of jerk-ish, but not the point—and afterwards both Cass and AJ had wanted turns hanging off his metal arm. Sam might've been irritated if he wasn't, unfortunately, head over heels for Bucky Barnes, and if his nephews' puppy dog eyes weren't so damn effective against him.
But fortunately for Sam, Sarah was immune to her sons' pleading expressions. A mother's gift.
"Uncle Sam needs to talk with Bucky right now," Sarah said sternly, crossing her arms over her chest in a way indicating she'd accept no disagreement. "Y'all can hang out with him when he comes back inside. Until then—"
"Until then, you can bother Peter!" May said cheerily from where she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, an old edition of Reader's Digest in her hands. "Why don't you guys drag him out the bedroom and play the Twister rematch? He should be wrapping up the group call with his friends any minute now."
Sam fought the urge to laugh, and May winked at him. He couldn't help but wonder how much his sister had told her about their conversation… Ah, well. Better to have two of the smartest women he knew in his corner than none at all.
May's suggestion seemed to satisfy his nephews, too, as Cass ran off to grab Twister from one of the top shelves in their closet while AJ went to nab Peter. Sarah threw him a knowing look as she walked by before joining May on the couch, and Sam took that as his cue to leave.
He turned towards Bucky, who'd watched the entire interaction with amusement. "Walk with me?"
Bucky nodded, and out the door they went. Sam kept his hands in his pockets while they walked, as if letting them swing freely by his side would tempt him into taking Bucky's hand in his own. Hell, maybe it would. Maybe Sam wouldn't even mind, either.
His hands remained in his pockets all the same.
"How's your day been?" Sam asked as he led Bucky as discreetly as possible toward the docks. He could see the golden glimmer of the sun in the water even at this distance. "We haven't… seen each other much."
Bucky snorted, and Sam withheld a grimace as he recalled why, exactly, they hadn't interacted more than twice today until this point. "Because you used every trick in the book to avoid being in the same room as me? Yeah, I guess it makes sense we haven't seen each other around."
Sam deserved that.
Bucky sighed, his vibranium fingers flexing at his side as he slowed to a stop. "Are you okay?"
Sam paused a few feet in front of Bucky, turning around to raise an eyebrow at him. "Yes? Why wouldn't I be?"
Bucky returned the gesture. "I mean, you don't normally act like my company is that crap."
Despite his attempt to maintain a blasé attitude, Sam could see concern flicker in Bucky's eyes, a quiet sort of worry that made his heart flutter. God, how had he not realized it until now?
"Aw, you were worried about me?" Sam teased, delighting in the crimson blush that spread across Bucky's face. A perk of dating a white boy—he'd always know when Bucky was flustered, just as he had with Riley. Though Riley had usually been the one putting the moves on him. "That's sweet of you, Buck."
Bucky's nose wrinkled in mock-distaste as he rolled his eyes. "Never mind. I take it back. You can go jump in the lake."
Sam burst out laughing, grabbing Bucky's right arm and pulling him towards the end of the docks. "That's not why I brought you out here, but sure, I'll consider the task—as long as you jump in with me."
Bucky snorted, but he didn't try to free his arm from Sam's grip. "Fat chance of that." And when Sam sat down to dangle his feet about the lake's water reflecting the orange sunset, Bucky joined him without protest.
Sam released his arm after that, confident enough Bucky wasn't going to flee.
"Seriously, though," Bucky said after a pause. He stared out over the glittering water as he spoke, and it took all of Sam's willpower not to get lost in how damn gorgeous Bucky looked as the golden glow of the setting sun washed over him. "You've been… on edge. All day." A frown tugged at his lips, and he glanced at Sam for the briefest of seconds before returning his attention to the water. "Do you need to talk about it?"
Sam had a feeling that wasn't the real question Bucky was asking.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Sam said after a beat passed. He didn't meet Bucky's eyes, even when Bucky not-so-subtly glanced at him a second time. "Just some stuff I had to work through on my own."
With a little help from Sarah, that was. Sam owed her big time. As per usual.
Bucky's frown deepened. "You sure?"
Sam chuckled. "Yeah, man. I'm sure."
A year ago, Bucky Barnes might not have been physically capable of expressing such repeat concern. It was… nice that he was more open with his concern nowadays, and oddly flattering that he was most willing to demonstrate said concern for Sam.
Bucky hummed, dissatisfied, but didn't press further. Another thing Bucky had improved at—recognizing and respecting boundaries. "Why'd you bring me out here, then?"
Sam grinned at him, once again unable to resist the urge to tease. "What, can't a guy enjoy the sunset with his best friend?"
Bucky snorted. "Maybe some guys. Not you."
Sam placed a hand over his heart, feigning pain. "Ouch. You wound me, Buck." He dropped his hand back to the wooden dock beneath them, returning his attention to the glistening water of the lake. Sam was hesitant to speak his next words, his mouth having gone completely dry, but somehow the question escaped.
"Well, what about enjoying the sunset with someone who's more than a friend?" Sam licked his lips. "That okay with you?"
Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Bucky staring at him with eyes wide as saucers, and it might have been comical had Sam's heart not been beating out of his chest.
"What?" Bucky's voice was dangerously close to a whisper.
Sam closed his eyes, tilting his head back and allowing the lake breeze to wash over him. Not having to watch Bucky's reaction made the words flow more easily, embarrassing as it was to admit. "Well, you know how Sarah and May have been courting each other all week."
'Courting.' He'd definitely chosen a dated word on purpose.
Sam could practically hear Bucky's jaw clench in response—a sign of nerves, Sam prayed, not disgust or anger—and took that as his cue to continue. "Kind of got me thinking."
He opened his eyes to begin ticking items off on his fingers, not unlike how Peter had done to him the day before. "They're always teasing each other. They know each other's favorite—well, favorite everythings. They seize any available moment to prep some little surprise for the other. And that's just for starters."
Sam let his hands fall back to his sides. The wood was rough beneath his palms, but worn down from years of walking—no worry of splinters. "I realized that behavior sounds really, really familiar."
A pause.
"Yeah?" Bucky said. "How so?" There was a hint, no, an edge of a challenge to Bucky's voice, a mixture of excitement and fear tempered by nerves.
"Yep." Sam popped the 'p,' grinning despite himself. "You see, there's a certain supersoldier I know, this guy who looks way too good for his old age, that acts the exact same way with me. And maybe, just maybe, I realized I might act like that with him, too." He glanced at Bucky. "Isn't that a strange coincidence?"
Bucky inhaled a sharp breath. "I swear to God, Sam, if you're fucking with me—"
Sam burst out laughing, because honestly, only Bucky would have doubts at this point in their conversation. Not that he was in any place to judge—it had only taken him all of a year, two years, if not longer to put his finger on his feelings. Either way, Bucky's reaction was more endearing than it had any right to be.
"Come on, Buck," Sam teased. "I thought you knew me by now." He turned to face Bucky head-on, warmth flooding through his chest as he realized Bucky had already shifted himself in the same manner. There couldn't be more than a foot of space remaining between them.
"I do know you," Bucky grumbled, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Which means I know you never stop fucking with me."
Sam's grin widened. "But you like it, don't you?"
Bucky stared at him. Of course, Bucky was always staring at Sam, but this look was… this look was different. Wide-eyed, lips parted a fraction of an inch. An expression a little more open, a little more vulnerable, honest and gentle in a way that made Sam's heart skip a beat as he wondered how the hell he'd never seen it before.
"I can't do casual," Bucky blurted, his hands balling into anxious fists. "You're it for me."
Maybe Sam should have been unnerved, should have been worried by the certainty with which Bucky spoke. Because how could Bucky know, how could he really and truly know that Sam was the be-all, end-all for him? Shouldn't that have been terrifying?
It was, a little bit. But Sam wasn't worried, wasn't unnerved. In fact, what was more terrifying to Sam was that he agreed with Bucky. And maybe Sam's own certainty, his own anxiety was because he now knew—now understood—that he didn't fall in love like other people. Because he hadn't felt this way about anyone before or since Riley.
And Sam didn't want to feel this way ever again about anyone other than Bucky.
"Don't worry," he whispered, a softer smile inching onto his lips. "You're it for me, too."
Bucky exhaled, hands unclenching like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Sam had to bite back a laugh. It was sweet, in a way so uniquely Bucky. "Okay," Bucky said with a short nod. "Okay, good."
Sam raised an eyebrow at the almost lackluster response. "I thought you used to be a charmer back in the day. Flirting up a storm. Why no suave behavior for me now?"
It was a joke, but Bucky must have taken it to heart, because next thing Sam knew the tips of their noses were inches apart and Bucky's normal hand was hovering over Sam's left cheek.
"Can I kiss you?" Bucky whispered, the ghost of his breath warm on Sam's skin, and it was all Sam could do to get a nod out before Bucky cradled Sam's face in his right hand and crashed their lips together. The normally-irritating buzz of cicadas and croak of frogs around them blended perfectly with the rhythm of the lake lapping away at the shore. Sam let himself melt into the kiss, his own hand creeping up to rest atop Bucky's vibranium shoulder.
As far as first kisses went, Sam thought it was a pretty damn good one.
"You didn't answer my question, you know," he murmured against Bucky's lips when they—well, when he and his unenhanced lungs had to pull away for air. "When you gonna use that 1940s charm on me?"
Bucky shrugged, pressing a chaste kiss to Sam's jaw. "The charm's just an act. I don't feel like…" He hummed, tilting his head. "I don't need to put it on around you."
Well, shit.
"I hate you," Sam grumbled with far too much fondness, cutting off Bucky's ensuing laughter with another kiss. It was one with more fire than the first, as Sam wrapped his free arm around Bucky's waist to eradicate any and all remaining space between them.
"Actually, I think you love me," Bucky whispered when they had to pull away a second time, their chests rising and falling with breaths a beat apart, and Sam smiled.
"Yeah," he murmured, running a thumb across Bucky's cheekbone. "Yeah, I think I do."
xXx
Sarah didn't comment when her brother and Bucky returned to the house with their fingers intertwined, though she did shoot Sam a knowing smirk. She knew he'd 'officially' inform her of all that had occurred when he was ready, and—fortunately for Sam—she was a patient person. That meant she was willing to grant him as much time as he needed to come forward with the details. But when it came time for the adults' lights out and Sam and Bucky began making their way to Sam's room together—
"Keep it PG," Sarah instructed with a sly grin, earning a scarlet blush from Bucky and a dramatic eye roll from Sam. May snickered at her side, as they were again curled up side by side on the couch.
"Not a problem," Sam said, taking Bucky's hand into his own. "We're moving at our own pace."
A soft smile curved Sarah's lips upward despite herself. "Good. I'm happy for you."
"Yeah, yeah." Sam pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I know you are."
The four exchanged goodnights, and Sarah couldn't stop herself from watching fondly as her brother and Bucky headed hand in hand to the back of the house. She'd meant it when she'd told Sam they were good for each other. The way Bucky made her brother smile in a way Sam hadn't since… Well. It was one of many things she'd be forever grateful to Bucky for.
"You've got that look in your eyes," May murmured with a fondness Sarah knew matched said 'look' May was alluding to.
"What look?" she replied, feigning ignorance for the fun of it as she gave May a teasing smile. They still sat mere inches apart on the couch, and if it had been up to Sarah, she wasn't sure she'd ever get up again.
"Please. You know the look." May tapped Sarah's nose, an action Sarah would not have tolerated from most anyone else. As always, May was the exception. "Happiness beyond words," May continued, gesturing broadly before them with her other hand. "Contentment. All that jazz."
Sarah chuckled. "Don't tell Sam. He'll never let me hear the end of it."
"Aw, you assume I'll let you hear the end of it."
"I know you will, because unlike my darling brother, you actually care about my mental well-being."
May hummed, biting her bottom lip and tilting her head from side to side, as if truly contemplating Sarah's assessment. "Yes, I suppose I do."
Before Sarah could do something stupid like lean in and kiss her, May jumped to her feet, offering her right hand to Sarah. "Come on."
"Taking me somewhere special?" Sarah asked, placing her hand in May's without hesitation.
May winked at her. "Maybe. We can access your roof through the attic, right?"
Sarah shrugged as May pulled her to her feet, putting on an air of nonchalance, as if she wasn't about to bubble over with excitement at what May was implying. A few nerves were mixed in there, too—Sarah didn't get on the roof much anymore, not unless there were shingles to repair and Sam wasn't around. "We might be able to."
May's ever-present smile widened. "Good, because I think the stars are calling our names."
It was an understatement to say that Sarah felt like an impulsive teenager again as she and May quickly and semi-quietly made their way up the pull-down wooden ladder into the attic. With whispers and muffled laughter, they climbed through the square access panel that took them out onto the roof. May guided her to one of the flattest spots, somewhere above the second-floor balcony. It was an area that normally collected rainwater, Sarah knew, but Delacroix was having a rare dry spell—albeit a spell not expected to last more than another day.
They sat down side by side, shoulders unabashedly pressed together, and God if this wasn't another one of those moments Sarah wished she could preserve forever. The weather was muggy despite the late hour and the comparative lack of rain, but the stars glittering above them and May's beautiful smile radiating beside Sarah made any discomfort worth it.
"I don't suppose you know the constellations out tonight?" May mused after a pause, placing her hands behind her to brace herself as she stared up at the sky. "I'm only familiar with the Big Dipper."
Sarah chuckled, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, no. That was always Sam's area of expertise."
May hummed. The sparkle in her eyes told Sarah she didn't really mind their shared lack of knowledge. "That's okay. We could always make up our own."
"We could," Sarah agreed with a nod. She knew that should have been her cue to join May in admiring the night sky, but the Louisiana sky wasn't going anywhere, while May was. If Sarah looked away, she was afraid she'd blink and it would be morning. May would be preparing to leave, to go back to New York, and Sarah wasn't—
Sarah wasn't ready to watch her go.
"You know, in those sappy romcoms Peter likes," May said, an odd gravity to her tone as she continued looking up at the stars, "there's always some big moment at night where the couple is looking at constellations. And they've always got this line, too, where one of them talks about how the stars are the same, no matter who's looking at them or where they're looking from. It's the moment the dream couple realizes they'll always be together, even when they're apart."
Sarah nodded, heart beating faster. "Yep. Sam loves those movies, too." As much as he might try to deny it.
May chuckled. "Sounds like him." Her expression grew serious once more. "But honestly, I call bullshit."
Sarah raised an eyebrow, now unsure where May was going with this. Clearly not a romcom 'reenactment,' as it were. "Really? Why?"
May gestured above them. "Have those writers ever heard of light pollution? I swear I only see like three stars in Queens. Here?" She shook her head, awe flitting across her features as her hand fell back behind her. "It's like the whole galaxy is out in front of me."
"Yeah, the whole universe is within your reach," Sarah agreed, still staring at May. A tiny smile tugged at her lips. "You can practically touch it, right?"
May's gaze dropped from the stars to meet Sarah's own, though Sarah swore she could still see the light of a thousand worlds glimmering in May's eyes. "Yep," she agreed, placing a hand on top of Sarah's. "You sure can."
Sarah said nothing as she turned her hand over to lace their fingers together, giving May's hand a gentle squeeze.
"But I call bullshit for other reasons, too," May admitted after a pause, gaze still locked with Sarah's. "Sometimes people aren't together when they're apart. You're just—You're just separate, and it's hard, and it really fucking hurts, and all you can do is deal with being apart until you find your way back to each other again."
Sarah nodded. "That's why people should treasure the moments they do have together." She traced circles on the top of May's hand with her thumb. "Not so bad to be a little selfish every now and then, right? Stretch an hour into a day, a day into a week, a week into a year."
Sarah's voice had dropped to a whisper by the end of her sentence, and a heavy silence fell. Whatever was spoken next would make or break them.
"Is it selfish that I don't want today to end?" May murmured, and when Sarah could only squeeze her hand in reply, words began tumbling from May's lips like a waterfall. "It—It feels selfish to me, that I dragged you up onto the roof in the middle of the goddamn night just because I want to spend more time with you before tomorrow comes. Because God, Sarah, I can't imagine going back to Queens without taking you with me."
Sarah threw hesitance to the wind as she cupped May's cheek with her free hand, praying her fingers weren't shaking at the same rate her heart was racing as she traced May's cheekbone with her thumb. "If that's selfishness, then I must be selfish, too, because I can't imagine staying in Delacroix without keeping you here with me." A breathy half-laugh escaped Sarah's lips, and she tucked May's hair behind her ear. "Not to mention how much I've been wanting to kiss you—all today, all yesterday, all the way back to Saturday. That's pretty selfish of me, too."
It was about damn time she admitted it aloud.
"I think"—May licked her lips, an action Sarah watched with probably too much closeness—"what's really selfish… is how you've been keeping those kisses to yourself."
Sarah's breath hitched at May's words, and next thing she knew their lips were crashing together like it was the last kiss they'd ever share. Maybe there was an inkling of truth to that unspoken fear—after tomorrow, opportunities for them to embrace would be few and far between.
God, why had Sarah let herself hold back for so long? May's touch made fireworks explode in her stomach, sent blissful warmth flooding across her skin as May's free hand came to rest on her collarbone. Sarah had never been so angry at the human body's need for oxygen when they both had to pull away to breathe.
"I think you were right," Sarah murmured, unable to stop a grin from stretching across her face. "It was pretty selfish of me, keeping that to myself."
May laughed, and God if her laughter wasn't the most beautiful sound Sarah had ever heard. "Well. You have all night to make up for it."
Sarah bit her lip, the truth—the limit—of May's assessment sinking in. She laced their fingers together a second time, their hands having wandered during their previous embrace. "I want to be with you," she said quietly, meeting May's eyes, "more than I've wanted anything in a long time, May. But long distance isn't going to be easy."
Am I worth it, Sarah knew she was really asking. Is what we could have worth it to you?
"I know it won't be." May cupped Sarah's face with her free hand. "But I'm not signing up for easy," she said, and Sarah could see tears glittering in her eyes. "I'm signing up for you. Whatever it takes."
A lump rose in Sarah's throat, one she wasn't sure she'd be able to fight down. She exhaled a shuddering breath, shaking her head. "You make me so damn happy, you know that?"
May caught her lips in a chaste kiss that still managed to leave Sarah breathless. "Good," she whispered against Sarah's mouth, their foreheads pressed together. "That's all I ever want to do."
And when they kissed again, Sarah could taste the salt of tears, unsure if they were May's or her own. Not that it mattered—they were tears of joy either way. Sarah wanted May, wanted May to hold her, wanted May to miss her, wanted to disappear time after time into the warmth of May's lips against her own. Because this?
This was love.
And they'd make it work.
xXx
so. if you don't ship sarahmay now, then i have failed in my mission. hopefully i haven't failed ajjksdahjs
ALSO, if anyone makes sarahmay content, be it a fic or an edit or fanart or anything, let me know. and i don't mean if it's inspired by this story - although you are more than welcome to do that, lmao - i am just starving for sarahmay content in general. IT IS A RAREPAIR THAT DESERVES TO CATCH ON *insert elmo fire gif*
anyways. this fic has been quite a ride, and i am so glad i was able to get it out before the fall semester started! i can't thank y'all enough for giving this story a chance. i hope you enjoyed the thrilling conclusion to Is This Love? and if you'd like, you can pester me on tumblr starkravinghazelnoots for behind the scenes tidbits. for a final time, thank you for reading!
