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The hotel they find in a quiet corner of Pennsylvania certainly isn't anywhere near four or five stars, but a quiet, green calm surrounds the area. Steve can feel it when he opens the door and faces the small parking lot; three steps out of his and Sam's room and he's already outside, already faced with grass and trees and the five-minute walk down to the diner.

"I'll bring back breakfast," he says, over his shoulder, then smiles when Sam comes up behind him instead of answering. "Just grab my glasses?"

"No, I want to come with you. Give me five minutes?" Sam kisses the back of Steve's neck and the point of his shoulder; Steve can feel the shape of his smile. "Maybe three," he murmurs and kisses Steve again.

Sam slips away and the hotel room door closes behind Steve, leaving him to take in the early morning alone for a few more minutes. They drove up from DC to New York City, then curved down through New York state to Pennsylvania, searching for something more than the life they left behind, one they lived between cities and paychecks.

Maybe life won't get easier when they get back to DC, but this road trip has meant everything to both of them. The trees and the open sky and the unwinding road, the only honeymoon they wanted, one spent wandering. They've got three weeks to themselves before Sam starts grad school and Steve starts his residency at the museum; three weeks of blooming sunrises and drowsy sunsets, three weeks of afternoon naps and the warm brush of skin against skin as they wake each other up with kisses and muted endearments.

When the door opens behind him again, Steve turns to wrap his arms around Sam and nuzzle soft kisses against his temple. He pulls away and wrinkles his nose after Sam puts his glasses on for him.

"I'm going to get you eggs and pancakes and coffee," he murmurs, then tightens his arms up around Sam when Sam laughs at him.

"And swap half your breakfast for half of mine?" Sam's voice is so warm, low and fond, and he steals a kiss from Steve's parted lips before Steve can answer. "Is that why you married me? Because I let you do that?"

"Mhmm.... maybe?" Steve tugs Sam down the sidewalk, past a series of locked hotel room doors, and wraps his arm around Sam's waist as they trade the sidewalk for the little path down to the diner.

The warm, late summer morning unfolds around them and Steve can't believe how perfect everything feels, from the warm mellow light to the nudge of Sam's hip against his to the way they're both dressed half in each other's clothes.

He married Sam for so many reasons, so many innumerable and inimitable reasons, but the only one that matters is the warm press of Sam's body against his and the secret knowledge that they could spend the rest of their lives wandering and Steve would always feel like he was home.