i got this :D
“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”
“Neither of us are in the Army!” Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes calls. “You know this!” Stark waves an arm behind him, walking away. Then Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes sighs. “Sorry about him,” he says, long-suffering. He sticks out his hand. His voice is deep and he’s so tall and he says, like he isn’t just the most respected man in the US military, “James Rhodes. Nice to meet you.”
Oh, shit. Sam snaps his gaping mouth shut. He shakes Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes’ hand. “Lieutenant Colonel, sir. It’s an honor.”
“Oh, hey, no, you don’t have to do that,” Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes says. “Rank doesn’t count at a Stark party.”
Sam laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. Is he blushing? He’s blushing. Stop blushing. “Sorry, si – shit, it’s reflex, man.”
“Come on, I’m not even famous like these guys,” Rhodes says, but he looks pleased. “So what’re you drinking?”
“I got no idea,” Sam admits. He looks at the glass in his hand. “Rogers kept trying to get me a glass of some top shelf brandy, so finally I said yes –”
“Whoo, Rogers,” Rhodes whistles. “That guy – I mean, no offense –”
“Kind of a lush? Totally,” Sam agrees. He looks back over his shoulder, following Rhodes’ gaze. Steve is laughing with his head thrown back, sitting on a couch with Thor, his hand on the guy’s thigh. Sam chuckles, shaking his head. “You know, he’s so young in some ways, it’s weird. I never expected that.”
“So you guys are pretty close,” Rhodes says.
“Yeah, you know,” Sam shrugs. “Good guy.” Not like he can talk about their missing persons case, no matter how handsome and stately Rhodes is. He snorts. “Kind of an asshole, though. We met because he couldn’t help but point out how slow regular people like to take their morning jogs compared to super soldiers.”
Rhodes grins. “No kidding?”
Sam leans close, conspiratorial. “For real.”
Rhodes laughs. He has a rich, nice laugh. Sam’s favorite thing ever is making people laugh, especially hot guys like Rhodes, and he knows the look on his face is probably stupid as fuck. He can’t help it. The last person he clicked with like this was Rogers, but like hell he’s getting involved in that mess. He loves the guy, but no. Rhodes smacks his shoulder. Sam’s just tipsy enough that he can admit he’s pretty starstruck.
“Come with me,” Rhodes decides. “If we sneak out right now, nobody will notice. Let me get you a better drink.”
“Oh yeah?” Sam asks. “Like what?”
“Coors.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
*
“So I looked up at him, and I said –”
“Oh, shit,” Sam wheezes. “You did not –”
“I said,” and he puts on a voice: “Anthony Edward Stark, I’m gonna whoop your pasty ass into next week.”
“Oh my God,” Sam gasps.
“And he is convinced,” Rhodes insists, “Convinced, to this day – to this day! – that he was talking to the ghost of his first nanny. Convinced. He fucking tells that story at parties and says it was his,” Rhodes waves his arms around spookily – “One experience with the paranormal.”
Sam wipes a tear from his eye. “Shit, Rhodes, oh my God,” he gasps. “Oh my God, you are outta your damn mind, fuck.”
Turns out Rhodes likes making people laugh, too. He’s grinning at Sam, kind of quietly. He finishes off his beer. The air out on the balcony is warm and summery. Sam tries not to watch his throat move while he swallows, but it’s a lost cause. Rhodes pats his knee, casual. “We better get back in,” he says. “Someone might send a detail otherwise.”
“Damn, already?” Sam asks, relaxed and happy. “How long we been out here, anyway?”
Rhodes checks his watch. “It’s…only two thirty in the morning.”
“Shit,” Sam laughs, and then they catch each other’s eyes and they’re both laughing again. “God, okay, alright,” he agrees. “Yeah, let’s get back in, you’re right. Good thing one of us here is responsible.”
“You better be getting Cap back home too, right?”
“Eh,” Sam says, shrugging. He gives Rhodes a hand up. Rhodes is a little taller than him, and their chests are close now. “He can take care of himself. Mostly.”
Rhodes is making a weird face, like he’s trying to figure something out.
“What?” Sam asks.
“I –” Rhodes sighs. “Sam, look.” They’re on first name basis now? Sam’s chest does something about that. “I don’t know any way to ask this that won’t make it –” he gestures between them, “Uncomfortable, but –”
Sam’s eyes go wide. “Oh, man. Oh, Rhodes. No. No no no no no.”
“No? Wait, no-no, or…no, no?”
“No-no,” Sam clarifies. “Are you kidding me? He’s a great guy, he’s a good friend, but –”
Rhodes puts his hand over his face, chuckling.
“Couldn’t pay me,” Sam continues, having fun with it now. “Wouldn’t do it for a million dollars. No. Nope. No. He’s hung up on someone, anyway. A couple someones. Hell no, man.”
“Good,” Rhodes says. Then his eyes go wide. “I mean, you know, good that you – good that you two are friends, right, he seems like a pretty cool, uh –”
“Rhodes,” Sam laughs.
“I’m gonna give you my number now,” Rhodes says to him, in that calm, commanding, warm tone that Sam is probably gonna fall head over heels for in about two weeks flat. “But it’s on one condition.”
God, anything. Wait, don’t say that out loud. “Shoot,” Sam replies. Keep it chill, Wilson.
“My name is James,” he says. His eyes are so kind up close. All Sam’s ever wanted – somebody with kind brown eyes. “So please call me James.”
“James,” Sam replies. “Alright, James.”
“Alright,” James replies, and then Sam mumbles, “God, fuck it,” and tilts his head up, and kisses him on the mouth.