Chapter Text
It was two months later when Bucky showed up to Yankee Stadium.
Today was Wanda’s convocation, and sure, he hadn’t been formally invited, just a casual mention in case he had the time. But Bucky was happy to let Sam run the shop for the day, if only for the look of surprise on his business partner’s face when he’d asked.
The wry, twisting grin was part congratulations and part ‘I told you so,’ but unlike Nat, Wilson wouldn’t have said as much out loud. He was just happy for him, is all, patting him on the back and telling him he’d keep the place in line.
He walked through the halls flanked with purple NYU branding, one eye on in his phone while the other made sure he didn’t run head-first into anyone— today’s event was packed.
Wanda: I’m just outside section 222. Are you here???
He ignored the extra question marks and wound around the hall— he wasn’t too far now. Even yards away, he could make out her fiery hair falling in loose curls atop her purple regalia. She was talking to a blond-haired man, a little taller them himself and about his age and a slimmer, younger man with silvery hair.
“Wan,” Bucky started, calling out with a smile as her head turned.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. “I thought we were having dinner after.”
“Pulled some strings and got myself a ticket— I didn’t want to miss you walking the stage.”
She offered him a grateful smile, squeezing his hand before she realized, “Oh! I should introduce you to Clint and my twin Pietro.”
The latter was the first to step up to the plate, “So you’re James, huh?”
“Here we go,” Wanda huffed, amused and rolling her eyes. She patted her brother’s forearm, nudging her elbow into Clint’s side as if in warning before adding, “You three play nice, alright? I have to go line up backstage.”
She slipped backstage before the words landed, with the two men sizing Bucky up. He figured he would run into her family at some point— family meant a lot to Wanda after all. But this might have been the least thought-out aspect of today’s plan.
He took a deep breath and put on a shaky smile, and nodded at both of them, “It’s uh, nice to meet you.”
“You’re the one that owns that coffee shop.”
It wasn’t a question, and Pietro’s mouth was a straight line as his eyes darted between Bucky’s. Clint seemed to hang back, letting the brother take the lead— Bucky wondered off-hand if they would play good cop bad cop or just give him two versions of the same shovel talk.
Honestly, he was prepped for both.
“Yeah, that’s me,” he nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets as the silvery-haired Pietro surveyed him some more.
Bucky assumed the stern look on his face was saved for suitors, though it looked well-practiced.
“She hasn’t stopped talking about it since she wandered in there between classes. And Wanda doesn’t even like coffee.”
Bucky snorted, “Apparently, I make a mean chai.”
Pietro’s mouth twitched, and Bucky suddenly wondered whether he’d actually managed the right answer. He got his a second later when Pietro’s blue eyes finally let him go.
“You know what I have to tell you,” Pietro started, quieter now, probably noticing the curious eyes around them, passing them by as families and friends searched for their seats.
Bucky nodded. He was a brother, too, after all. So, of course, he recognized this dance better than most.
“I know.”
“That if you hurt Wanda, my twin,” Pietro went on, “that you will hurt a lot worse in the end.”
“Understood,” Bucky replied with a grim smile before his eyes flicked over to the other man, who was currently pretending not to listen. “I’m assuming Clint’s going to tell me the same?”
The blond shrugged, giving up the ruse and stepping forward to reply for himself.
“Pretty much.”
Pietro and Clint shared a look, both nodding before they turned back to their guest.
“But today we will celebrate and eat and drink,” Pietro said, clapping his hand on Bucky’s shoulder a little too hard before adding a little quieter, “Just know.”
Bucky was pretty sure it would be hard to forget— but he was glad he passed their initial assessment, choosing to look past the proverbial shotgun at the end of their threat. Not that he minded. If anything, it put him at ease to know Wanda had a family who cared, a supportive (and protective) ecosystem around that wanted only the best for her.
Which, at the end of the day, wasn’t so different from Nat and Sam in their own ways.
He waited until Pietro had wandered away to chat up a girl about his age across the room before turning to ask Clint, “How do you know Pietro and Wanda?”
“I’m their landlord, actually,” Clint said with a chuckle. “Kinda took them under my wing when they immigrated— invited them for holiday dinners and stuff. They didn’t have a lot of people on their side when they arrived, you know?”
Wanda had told him a little about their time in the States, a little bit more about her life in Sokovia and the death of her parents. But he was sure there was a lot he didn’t know— a lot of stories he could probably get out of Clint with enough coffee (and maybe a beer or two).
The trio quickly found their seats, settling in amongst the murmurs of the crowd and listening to the speeches and back-to-back names as strangers crossed the stage. According to the program, graduate programs were near the end of the list, so they all settled in for the long haul.
His eyes couldn’t help but drift throughout, looking for anything to keep himself occupied as he sat shoulder-to-shoulder with the men who’d threatened his life a half-hour ago.
Not that it wasn’t for a good cause.
Maybe it was his infamous eagle eyes, but Bucky could see a familiar fiery-haired figure in the front row, hiding a yawn behind her hand. He scrambled for his cell.
Are you yawning, back there? he texted, grinning into his phone.
Hush! I’m not trying to. This ceremony is just so long, and I’m at the end, she replied before adding, I don’t know if I’m going to make it to dinner at this rate.
Bucky’s eyes darting back to her row of graduands, biting his lip in thought.
After scrolling through his contact list, he quickly shot off another text.
“As requested.”
Natasha was curt with her greeting, brows raised, but there was an unmistakable flick at the corner of her lips. Something akin to victory— maybe closer to gloating.
She handed over the still-steaming drinks tray, enough to keep the four of them going long enough to make it to the restaurant at least. They’d all been stifling yawns by the time Wanda crossed the stage, shaking hands and collecting “the most expensive piece of paper we will ever own,” according to her twin.
Pietro assured Bucky he was not the college type.
“Thanks,” he said, eyes narrowing. “I was expecting Wilson.”
That had been who he’d texted, knowing that if Natasha had even a whiff of this plan, he wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks. He should have known she’d find a way to weasel her way in.
“I know,” Nat replied with a smile, turning back towards her car before he could respond.
Typical, he all but huffed. She always managed to get in the last word.
By the time he wove his way back towards the stadium, Pietro and Clint were still waiting for Wanda to return from backstage.
Clint was quick to eye the drinks in his grasp, “That for us?”
Bucky handed him a cup, “Black coffee, right?”
Clint’s brow furrowed, but he took it all the same, even offering a quiet thanks.
Wanda had mentioned it off-hand once, and he’d never been so thankful to hang onto a tidbit of information.
“And a double-shot expresso for you,” Bucky continued, handing Pietro a smaller cup, watching his eyes widen as he took it.
“Thanks,” Pietro murmured, still skeptical. His eyes softened after the first sip, looking down at the cup before offering a quiet “S’not bad.”
Bucky didn’t have much time to bask in the closest thing to a compliment he would likely get out of the man, as a flash of orange hair bobbed in the crowd, heading towards them. He quickly wrapped his free arm around her waist, planting a kiss in her hair.
“Congratulations, Master of Botany,” Bucky said, smiling into the soft kiss he pressed to her lips.
“Biology, actually— it’s just a focus in botany. Oh, caffeine!” Wanda plucked a cup from the tray and started sipping, eyes bulging at the flowers in Clint’s grasp. “Those are beautiful, thank you, Clint.”
She quickly moved on to greet her brother and friend, but Bucky’s brain was stuck on something else.
“You took my—”
He realized that she was drinking his cup of coffee and not her chai latte. And she hadn’t said a peep. Wanda’s eyes went wide in realization too, suddenly caught.
“I guess I have to admit it was pretty good coffee now, huh?” she said with a bashful grin.
Huffing a laugh, he pulled her into a tight hug and squeezed, biting back the ‘I knew it’ that had been sitting on his tongue ever since she’d flown out of the cafe that day.
“OK, now I have to take you to dinner,” Bucky grinned from ear to ear. “You’re telling me I impressed the non-coffee drinker and managed to source some local food for the cafe?”
“There’s nothing in writing yet— I literally only just graduated, but yeah,” she smiled softly. “I guess you did.”
Wanda slipped her hand into Bucky’s, twining their fingers as she leaned her head on his shoulder, content. He was content to stay like this forever, as Pietro and Clint argued back and forth about the best place to catch a cab in the aftermath of the ceremony.
It was later, after dinner, when they’d returned to Wanda and Pietro’s apartment, after the conversation had petered off. The other men were arguing in front of the TV when Wanda squeezed their joint hands under the table, thumb drifting across his scarred and calloused skin.
Even here, still seated at the twins’ dining table, they fit together effortlessly, with Wanda’s head nestling into his shoulder.
“Thank you for today,” Wanda murmured. “And for putting up with my brother and Clint, I know they’re a handful.”
“They’re your family,” Bucky chuckled with a shake of his head. “My family’s a pain in the ass, too, if you remember.”
Wanda snorted, likely thinking back to all the prodding and not-so-subtle tinkering both Sam and Natasha had managed in an effort to nudge them together.
“Still.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything, Wan. I’m proud of you.”
He could practically feel her blush radiating from her skin.
They sat like that for a while, even as the arguments over cheating at the video game Clint and Pietro were playing grew loud enough for the neighbours to hear. Wanda half-heartedly chimed in to settle down, but they knew it was all in good fun.
When Clint offered him a controller, grumbling about Pietro’s lack of sportsmanship, Bucky knew he’d been accepted too, brought into their little makeshift family.
Resting his chin on the crown of her head, after the men had moved to the fire escape for a smoke, Bucky in the quiet and the stillness of it all. And for once in his life, even though he was well outside the doors of his cafe, he couldn’t have imagined himself anywhere else, content and warm. For once, he wasn’t living day-to-day in the confines of the coffee shop.
No. Here Bucky was happier than he’d been in years and looking to the future— their future.
“I’m really glad you happened to walk into your shop that day,” he mumbled into her hair.
Even if it wasn’t for coffee.