Though for all the bruises Rumlow's back and hips should have sported there were considerably less than he expected. A few looked barely there, just light hints of red - probably from the first day. Sam was eyeing them until he was jabbed and then his eyes flicked up with a dry look that turned to something heated with the vicious possessiveness in Rumlow's voice. Oh, he meant that. Every damn word.

It made him rock forward and mold their bodies together, sinking his teeth obligingly into the fresh clean on the back of Rumlow's neck. He meant what he said about causalities and really hoped 'make them bleed a little' didn't slip in the heat of the moment. The wet soapy fingers of his free hand found and gripped Rumlow's hip. Gestures that said the same right back, seethed mine.

"No one's getting at me." He certainly didn't plan on letting them.

Sam eased up, brushing his mouth over the shallow imprints he left behind. "I owe you a coffee, don't I?"