Chapter Text
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Steve was infinitely glad that he’d finally gotten up the nerve to ask Bucky to come as his ‘date’ - not only because of the relief he felt when he’d been able to check off the plus one box on his RSVP and save face, but because it turned out that planning an international trip in such a short amount of time (even one that had been planned as meticulously as Peggy Carter could) was ridiculously stressful work. Steve wasn’t sure he’d have gotten through all of it with his sanity intact, if not for Bucky’s help.
As it was, they had their flights scheduled and were both able to get a few extra days off of work to allow themselves time to do independent sightseeing around the city. Initially they’d had trouble figuring out how to fill said days without being completely pathetic tourists, but luckily Steve had been able to find time for drinks with Peggy one evening after work, who was so thrilled to hear that he was FINALLY owning up to his feelings about Bucky (the way she’d gushed when Steve had admitted the identity of his date had been all kinds of uncomfortable, considering how subtle he thought his feelings for his friend were) that she was all-too-happy to give them an itinerary of things to do together. Steve tried his best to ignore how many times she mentioned Angie during the list… not because he had any problems with his ex’s fiance, of course, but because he didn’t want to psyche himself out too much when it came to riding the London Eye with Bucky.
Just because Peggy said it made for a great date afternoon, didn’t mean that they couldn’t enjoy the hell out of it as friends.
As the date drew closer, Steve was half-afraid that he should suggest they spend time acting as a couple, to make the whole facade more natural when they were put on the spot; as it was they were spending so much time together anyway, making plans and just hanging out as they always had (and on one regrettable night, practicing dance moves at Bucky’s insistence) that it hardly seemed necessary. God knew that they were together just as often as any other busy, employed Millennial couple were, and they’d known each other for so long that it wasn’t as if someone would be able to quiz them and call their bluff on the act. Plus, weren’t people supposed to date their best friends, anyway? If anything, Steve figured that Bucky was the best he could ask for in a pretend date, outside of maybe Peggy herself.
He was getting really good at ignoring the voice that reminded him how much he wished it wasn’t pretend, too.
Before he knew it, the week of the wedding had arrived, and found the two of them waiting outside the gate for their flight, listening to podcasts on their phones as they passed the time. They’d been ridiculously early to arrive at the airport - but having never flown internationally before Steve had wanted to give plenty of time to get through security and find their gate, and being an incredible friend, Bucky had put up with him. Thankfully their luggage and passports had been approved without issue, which left Steve with a solid hour to worry about their bags being lost or embarrassing himself at the wedding, or the trip turning into a disaster, or their suits not showing up at their hotel as ordered...
He didn’t even realize how much he’d worked himself up until a solid, warm arm had snaked its way around his shoulders and pulled him into a sideways hug. Steve blinked in surprise, feeling the tension ease out of his muscles as he turned his head towards Bucky - who went right on reading the battered paperback in his free hand, as if nothing had happened. As if it were perfectly normal for him to just hold Steve until he calmed down.
Honestly, it wasn’t that uncommon; Bucky had been a tactile guy for as long as Steve had known him. But something about the way he left his arm around Steve’s thin shoulders, and the gentle way that his thumb moved back and forth, mindlessly over the point of Steve’s shoulder, somehow felt different. And while it kept him from completely freaking out before their boarding announcement was finally made, it also scared the hell out of him, for entirely different reasons.
Thankfully, the flight had gone without problems, and landed them in London exactly as planned, with all of their luggage intact. Even better, they’d been able to get a ride from Heathrow relatively easily, and arrived at their hotel to find the suits that they’d ordered and had fitted in New York already waiting for them. It almost made Steve nervous all over again; he worried about just how far he’d be able to press his luck before it ran out.
His question was answered as soon as they’d opened the door to their room. It made sense, given the fact that they’d told Peggy they were coming to her wedding as a couple, that the room she’d book for them in the wedding party’s block of hotel suites would be one with a single king bed in it, but that didn’t make the idea of sleeping with his best friend for an entire week any less daunting.
Bucky, of course, found it hilarious.
“I mean, we did ask for it, didn’t we?” He chuckled, already turning and making his way past Steve back to the tiny sitting room they’d walked through. “It’s no big deal, I’m sure the couch pulls out…”
“No,” Steve responded immediately, surprising them both when he caught Bucky by the elbow. For as hard as his heart was pounding in his chest, his voice sounded remarkably certain. “No, that’s stupid. The bed’s huge, there’s no reason we can’t just share it.”
“It’s not a big deal -” Bucky countered.
“I know,” Steve interrupted, jutting his chin out in warning. “It’ll be like old times, right? Which side d’ya want?”
There was a moment where something weird flashed across Bucky’s face, but it passed so quickly that Steve decided to pretend like he hadn’t noticed it, and instead started setting his luggage up the way he wanted in the closet on the opposite side of the room.
For as uncomfortable as that initial sleeping discussion was, the rest of the week went surprisingly well. They met up with Ang and Peggy for dinner at an incredible restaurant overlooking Hyde Park on their second night in the city, and spent the rest of their time sightseeing - touring palaces and the Tower of London, wandering through the National Gallery of art and even catching a play at a smaller theatre just outside of the West End. It was so easy and comfortable, wandering around the city with Bucky, taking in the incredible sights and comparing and contrasting them to all of the similar experiences they’d shared in New York over the years. Buck, for his part, seemed to be enjoying it just as much as Steve - his excitement was so infectious that even the selfies that he swore on getting of the two of them together at each of their stops didn’t even annoy Steve, despite how much he usually hated having his picture taken.
The way they looked didn’t even occur to him until an older couple on the London Eye offered to take their picture, after having inevitably heard Bucky bemoaning how hard it was to get a shot of the two of them that really captured the view. “A couple as handsome as yourselves deserves a full-body shot, anyway,” she said with shrewd smile, beaming as she made her way back to her husband while Steve and Bucky gaped at her like idiots.
It wasn’t until the champagne got passed around at the very top that Steve realized that they’d booked a couples’ trip on the famous wheel. He tried his best to hide his embarrassment in his champagne fluke, and told himself for the rest of the ride that they were obviously getting good practice. It helped him ignore all of the kissing couples around them and how badly he wanted Bucky to suggest that they give into peer pressure. (Unfortunately, Buck was suddenly way too busy taking photos of the view and uploading selfies to instagram. Steve convinced himself it was for the better - with the wedding being the next night, it wouldn’t do well to make things weird, now)
The day of the wedding broke sunny and bright, hardly what Steve had expected when Peggy had decided on a winter wedding in London. All the same, he couldn’t help feeling happy for her - she and Angie both deserved as much, and Steve was beyond glad that he could be there for their big day. Even if it meant waking up in a warm, sunkissed room with his best friend wrapped around him like an octopus.
Luckily, Steve was able to get out of Bucky’s hold before he woke up, and they were able to spend their morning getting ready without the additional awkwardness between them. Everything was going great, Steve thought - his suit fit him well, his cowlick actually cooperated when he gelled his hair into place, and it looked as though they’d be ready with more than enough time to catch the first shuttle from the hotel to the church. And then Bucky walked out of the bathroom, and Steve forgot how to breathe.
They’d never been able to match their schedules up well-enough to have gone suit shopping together in New York, so Steve had just told Bucky his planned colors and figured no one would exactly be expecting them to match, anyway. Steve’s suit was a slate grey, with a pearl shirt and navy blue silk tie that the sales clerk who’d helped him that day swore brought out his eyes. Bucky’s suit was at least a shade darker, and the same color as his shirt and tie. The ensemble might have been too dark and monotone, if Bucky didn’t still have the jacket open, revealing the bright blue silk lining inside. Between the way he’d slicked his hair back and the dark colors and cut of the suit, it made his cheekbones and jaw look even sharper than normal, and his shoulders impossibly broader.
The only coherent thought that Steve had as he looked at him was that this was a BAD. IDEA.
(the rest of his panicked mind completely blocked out the shell-shocked look that Bucky’d had when he caught a glimpse of Steve, too)
“You look good,” Bucky croaked, breaking the awkward silence an eternity later.
“Yeah,” Steve muttered stupidly, “Yeah, you do, too. We should prolly go.”
And just like that they were back to acting normal. The ride to the church was short, and once they arrived they both were kept busy with catching up with other friends in attendance and introducing themselves to the family members that they didn’t recognize. The service was small enough that it wasn’t long before they were seated for the wedding party, and the brides finally made their way down the aisle. Angie was gorgeous, looking like an angel in floaty white tulle with her blonde hair piled on her head. Peggy, of course, was equally beautiful in a form-fitting vintage dress, with her usual curls and matte red lipstick.
They both cried when they saw one another, and looked so blissfully happy that Steve couldn’t quite help but tear up as well - mostly out of happiness. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to take Angie’s place… he knew that she was better for Peggy, that the two of them were well-suited as friends. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but wish that someone would look at him the way they looked at one another when they took hands in front of the alter.
The fact that Bucky looked a little misty when he pressed his shoulder against Steve’s helped, weirdly enough.
That gentle touch remained throughout the service, keeping Steve grounded as the women said their vows and kissed, and then the church practically erupted with joy as they spilled out into the reception hall.
The ceremony being over helped, as did the food and the booze and the relaxed atmosphere of all of the party goers. Steve was able to give the happy couple a hug and his congratulations, then stammer his thanks as they both oohed and ahhed over how well his suit fit and how good Bucky looked and how adorable their instagram had been over the week, a theme that seemed to carry through the night. Once the dinner plates had been cleared and toasts had been made, and Peggy and Angie had their first dance as a couple, the music picked up - and Bucky left Steve’s side for the first time all week.
Steve did his best not to mope, instead watching with a smile as he sipped his drink and watched Bucky charm Sharon, and then both Peggy and Angie and half of the other ladies present with a dance. Steve couldn’t begrudge him for it; Buck always had been the life of a party, and it wasn’t like Steve could blame women for wanting to dance with him.
He lost track of time, and had no idea how many songs passed before someone was dropping into the chair next to him. Bucky grinned before taking a long drink from the glass of water he’d left behind, while Steve tried not to get too interested in the stray curl of hair that had escaped his gel and flopped over onto his forehead.
“So,” Bucky finally said once his glass was empty, leaning in and speaking up over the bass of the pop song that was blaring from the dance floor. “Am I getting that dance tonight, Rogers? We do have appearances to keep up.”
Between his hair and the devilish little smile Bucky gave him, and the liquid courage that Steve had built up throughout the course of the night, he surprised even himself by rising out of his chair and holding his hand out to Bucky. “We came all this way, I suppose I owe you something ,” he answered, his smile and tone completely negating the peevish words.
Bucky was out of his chair like a shot, and practically dragged Steve to the dance floor, as if he was afraid that he’d end up changing his mind. Of course, as soon as they found a spot, the song changed, fading from the frantic beat of the dance song to a soft, melancholy piano intro.
“Er,” Bucky started, color rising on his cheeks as he looked down at Steve questioningly.
Steve caught Peggy giving him a huge smile, spinning Angie so that she could give him a ridiculous double thumbs up, and realized that he could hardly chicken out now. He stepped in closer to Bucky, taking hold of his left hand and sliding his right around the small of his back, until they were pressed gently against one another. “You’re not gonna punk out on me now, are ya?” Steve teased, resting his face against the lapel of Bucky’s jacket, so that he’d miss the look on his face if Bucky decided to turn him down, now.
Wise men say, the singer’s voice began.
“Nah,” Bucky responded quietly, wrapping his own arm around Steve’s back and beginning to sway to the music. “Not a chance I’m blowin’ this one.”
The latter was said softly enough that Steve barely heard it over the words Only fools rush in.
But I can’t help falling in love with you.
Steve tried his best to relax as the song went on, to focus on avoiding Bucky’s toes and trying his best not to look like an idiot, but it was hard to pay attention to much other than the heat radiating off of Bucky’s chest, or the careful, perfect way that they swayed back and forth to the ridiculously cliche music. Steve never lifted his face off of Bucky’s jacket, terrified of what his friend would see on his face if he dared to look at him: because it was true. The past week, the months of planning leading up to it, the years of friendship when they’d both undoubtedly been the most important person in each other’s lives… how could he not have fallen for Bucky Barnes? If he was honest with himself, Steve knew that he’d probably been in love with Bucky since before he’d ever really known what love was.
And now here he was, surrounded by happy people and love and romance, and pretending like he was dating the love of his life. Because Steve was a fucking idiot.
Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be
Steve almost cut their dance off, realizing that he was reaching his limit for punishment (a threshold he’d honestly never thought he’d reach), but when he looked up at Bucky he found himself so shocked that he was unable to do anything but continue swaying to the music. Because Bucky was staring down at him with a look Steve had never saw before - a look that was so open and raw and, dare he hope, lovesick, that he couldn’t step away from it.
A look that perfectly captured everything that Steve was feeling.
Take my hand, take my whole life too
Oh for I can’t help falling in love with you
“Stevie?” Bucky whispered, his voice barely a rasp over the music and yet still the only thing that Steve could hear. He didn’t say anything else, but then he didn’t need to. Steve knew all too well what he was asking, and he was more than happy to comply.
He surged up on his toes at the same time that Bucky ducked his head, pressing their mouths together in a chaste but fierce kiss. Steve had no idea how long they stayed locked together like that, but he didn’t care, either. When their lips finally parted he pulled Bucky back to him, stealing a couple of quick pecks as Bucky huffed in surprise but returned all the same.
They were both flushed when they looked at each other again, panting slightly from the rush and length of the kiss. After a few seconds of stunned silence, Steve felt a grin split across his face that was so wide it hurt - Bucky was grinning like a dopey idiot right back at him.
At some point the song changed, but neither of them particularly paid attention: they just continued swaying together on their own corner of the dance floor, making out in their own obliviously happy little bubble.
Across the dance floor the brides exchanged a high five as they giggled at their once-hopeless friends, ecstatic that their plan had worked, before taking a cue from the boys and sharing a snog of their own.