Rumlow at least got a lip curl for his efforts before the door was shut.

Sam huffed in the pause between that and the engine starting up and Rumlow starting his mouth up right afterwards. He wished absently that there were actually windows in the back part of the van, something to give a little air to the coiling iron-sweetness coming from the man next to him.

"Man, don't start..."

A long-suffering plea. He remembered enough of their brief conversation (most of it snarling, yelling) at the Triskelion to not want his snark for two hours. "When's the last time you ate?"

Apparently, Steve was going to let him handle most of this.