Chapter Text
“Wow,” Steve says, looking out at the long line of limos in front of them. “Hollywood. So glamorous. Long lines, just like Disney World.”
“I think we have to pay for our own popcorn at the premiere,” Bucky says with a shrug. “There’s nothin’ glamorous about any of this. You know that my trailer wasn’t air conditioned? I was wrecked,” Bucky says.
“You mentioned that one or a hundred times. Besides, I think you look pretty glamorous in that tuxedo,” Steve says with a little smile. He feels pretty uncomfortable in his own tuxedo, a rented one from a place near the hotel Bucky’s been staying in L.A., but Bucky’s fits him like a glove. But Bucky actually owns the tuxedo and has had it tailored. He’s had to wear it before, to various events and parties for famous authors where they serve champagne and wear tuxedos, so it makes sense for him to own his suit, whereas Steve has almost absolutely no reason to own a tux. However, as good as Bucky looks in the tux, Steve is very much looking forward to taking Bucky’s tuxedo off of him after the premiere, as well.
They’ve been apart for most of the summer, which makes being together all the sweeter. After filming wrapped, Bucky came back to school, but with the movie premiering, he’s been out of time doing publicity and press for the picture. It’s apparently very good; true to Bucky’s vision and headed to the award season circuit. Bucky has a shot at an Oscar, which is a pretty wild thing to think, especially given that Bucky tripped over nothing in their hotel room this morning. As glitzy and glamorous as all this may be, he’s still Bucky, and it makes Steve so happy to know that things haven’t changed all that much while he’s been away.
Meanwhile, Steve is shopping around his manuscript for his first book. Sure, it’s an academic art historical text that probably ten people will read and two people will care about, but it’s a bit of an accomplishment, too.
“You look amazing,” Bucky says, reaching over and taking Steve’s hand in his. “I know all of this is a bit wild, but I’m really glad you’re here. Doin’ all this shit without you has been such a dumpster fire, I swear.”
“Yeah, a dumpster fire that’s going to win a Critic’s Choice Award,” Steve says, fondly rolling his eyes. He rubs his thumb against the soft spot on Bucky’s palm. “Anyhow, I needed an excuse to go on vacation. Otherwise I would’ve just stayed on campus until I withered away.”
“Some vacation,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “At least at Disney World there’d be a ride at the end of the line.”
Steve shrugs. “I’ve never been to Los Angeles before. And most people would think getting to take a limo ride with your boyfriend and a bottle of champagne is very glamorous, even if you do have to buy your own popcorn. Which I think you have to do at Disney World, too.” Steve grins. “I don’t need glamor,” he says.
“What do you need?” Bucky asks.
“You,” Steve says, maybe a little too honestly. They’ve been going strong, especially since the board voted to remove the faculty and staff dating restrictions, but he can’t say that he hasn’t missed Bucky during his time away. Sleeping in their room — it still gives him a kick to call their shared spaces theirs, even if Bucky bought the house before he even met Steve — with only Sarge to keep him company has been a bit of a let down. Sarge doesn’t snore the way that Bucky does and his kisses are a lot grosser.
“I’m here,” Bucky says. “And I promise I’ll stick by you the whole night. They’ll have to pry me away from your side with a crowbar.”
“You may need to get interviewed,” Steve says, raising his eyebrows.
“They can ask you questions, too. You know just as much about the script as I do, at this point. And you’re about a hundred fifty times more charming than I am.”
“If you need to use the bathroom?” he asks, ignoring the charming comment. Both of them know that Bucky’s the charming one in this relationship.
“Rogers, I’ve been shitting with the door open for six months, now. You’re not intimidated by my bowel movements and I’m not worried that they’ll offend your delicate sensibilities. We have no secrets from each other now.”
Steve chuckles, inches closer to Bucky. “I’m really proud of you,” he says.
“Thanks,” Bucky says. “I really…” His voice cracks, just a little. He clears it, then continues. “I really couldn’t’ve done this without you, bud. I’m not just sayin’ that. You…” He pauses, searching for the right words. Steve lets him. “You make me braver. And more excited. I’m glad we can do this together.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Steve says.
“Oh and there’s… I have somethin’ to show you,” Bucky says, reaching down for his bag. He pulls out a book from his bag and hands it to Steve. “It’s an advance copy of my next book,” he says. “The one I was workin’ on this spring.”
The cover is simple, white, with its title, The Entirely Beautiful, and Bucky’s name in thick black letters.
“Open it,” Bucky orders, quietly, and Steve does so. He flips through the title page, the copyright page, and his eyes catch on the dedication.
For Steve.
You taught me the truth about love.
Will you marry me?
Steve looks up and sees Bucky holding a gold band out to him.
“Yes,” Steve says simply, blinking with surprise.
Bucky exhales, smiles, eyes filling with tears. He nods, grinning. “Okay,” he says, taking Steve’s left hand in his and slipping the ring onto his finger. “That’s nice,” he says, looking up at Steve.
“Yeah, it is,” Steve says, dropping the book and lunging forward, pulling Bucky into a searing kiss, feeling the weight of the ring on his finger as he puts his hand to Bucky’s face.
Moments later, the door to their limousine opens. Steve sees flashing lights and hears shouting fans, but all he feels is Bucky’s lips on his, his hand on his hip, the happy tears falling down his cheeks.
“Mr. Barnes,” Steve hears someone from outside of the limo say in an authoritative voice. “You need to come out right now or else the flow of traffic will be disturbed.”
“Bad timing,” Steve whispers against Bucky’s lips.
Bucky huffs out a laugh, then pulls back in to give Steve a final peck on the lips. “Perfect timing,” he says. “All of it. Everything that led us together.”
“That’s poetic,” Steve says.
“Time will say nothing, but I told you so,” Bucky mutters, then takes Steve’s hand. “Are you ready?” he asks.
“Sure,” Steve says, following Bucky as they step out of the limousine and forward into the next stage of their lives.
Fin