Chapter Text
Bucky inhaled the chilly air slowly for one, two, three, four, five seconds, held for six seconds, and then exhaled for twice as long as he inhaled. He checked the scope of his rifle for the hundredth time in three minutes, the friendly chatter over the com system doing nothing to quell his mounting anxiety.
Perched high in a tree in the Italian Alps, Bucky was in the midst of his third mission as an official member of the Avengers. His first two missions had gone so smoothly to the point that they were… well, truthfully, rather boring. Winter had been disappointed by the lack of fighting (also known as their inability to show off), each Hydra base deserted except for a few stragglers who consumed a cyanide pill before the Avengers had crossed the threshold to enter the base. Sure, they’d managed to acquire a boat load of information so the mission was considered a success, but the whole thing seemed… off, in his opinion at least. Every base he raided with Caleb before he ended up at the Tower had been crawling with Hydra agents, and it seemed strange that Hydra would abandon their camps ahead of time but leave information and records behind.
Bucky (and his past-selves) seemed to be the only one who felt a strange sense of foreboding; Stark and Clint had finally allowed Peter and Wanda to tag along, Bruce had stayed behind with Vision, Wilson, and Stark’s friend Rhodey, and even Steve, who was typically in ‘Serious-Leader-Captain-America’ mode during missions, had been talking and laughing with the others over their coms since they landed on the snowy mountain top.
Steve had sensed his restlessness on the plane ride over, though, the blonde attributing it to Bucky’s traumatic memories of their last mission together on a snowy mountain, and maybe he was partially right, but Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness (besides, there weren’t any trains nearby, so Bucky wasn’t too bothered by their current location - Winter had lived in an area out in the middle of nowhere where it was constantly snowing and completed various missions across a handful of mountain ranges, so neither parts of himself were upset by that aspect).
“Hey, Buck,” Steve’s voice whispered into his ear through his own com device, startling Bucky from his thoughts and causing him to accidentally bump the rifle scope against his eye.
‘He knows everyone can hear him, right?’ past-Bucky snorted from his position next to Bucky on the pine tree branch.
“What?” Bucky responded, annoyed - he could tell from Steve’s tone that whatever he had to say had absolutely nothing to do with the mission.
“Um…” Steve trailed off, flustered by Bucky’s dismissive tone.
‘They’re so fucking loud!' Winter griped, pacing at the bottom of the tree Bucky was hiding in. ‘They might as well just knock on the front door since anyone with half a brain could hear them coming from a mile away.’
“Spit it out, Steve.” He peered through his scope again, trying to see anything that would explain why all the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. “I’m busy.”
“Um, heh, sorry,” Steve awkwardly chuckled, and Bucky watched through the scope as he exited the quinjet with a frown. “Nat says there’s a good coffee place at the bottom of the mountain…do you, uh, wanna check it out after this? To celebrate?”
“I told you about that place, Cap,” Stark grumbled, flying out of the aircraft in his full Iron Man suit. “And that was because I wanted to go, too.”
“It’s a bit premature to celebrate when we’ve done nothing but sit around and fucking chat,” Bucky hissed, refusing to hide his irritation - why couldn’t anyone take this seriously?
Wanda, Peter, Clint, and himself were all perched in trees surrounding a small, unremarkable log cabin that their intel from the two previous missions had led them to find. Bucky was positioned in the treeline facing the front door, with Clint on the left side of the cabin, and the two teens sharing a tree on the right; the back of the cabin was maybe a hundred feet from the edge of the mountain and provided no opportunity for someone to take cover (and nowhere for a hostile to run), and Clint rationalized that it would be easier to keep an eye on the kids if they were both in the same place anyways.
Supposedly, the cabin was the main base of a growing Hydra cell in Italy, but Bucky had his doubts unless the true location went down into the base of the mountain - there were no tracks leading to or from the structure, and the log cabin looked like it was one blizzard away from collapsing entirely.
“No! It’s not that, it’s…um, never mind, sorry.” Bucky could see his slumped shoulders and despondent pout without the aid of his rifle scope.
“Is it your anniversary?” Thor guessed, clapping Steve on the back as they started to shift into position.
‘Anniversary?’ Bucky asked his former-selves in alarm... he’d feel terrible for giving Steve shit if it was Bucky who had forgotten such an important date.
‘Time is meaningless unless it’s useful to the mission,’ Winter grimly responded.
‘Well, forgetting our anniversary would be detrimental to the mission,’ past-Bucky shot back, his arms crossed over his chest. ‘It’s been one month and two weeks since we asked Steve to be our boyfriend, so uh… not sure what anniversary he’s thinking of if Thor’s guess is correct, and based on Steve’s body language, that seems somewhat spot on.’
“New rule,” Stark quickly cut in. “No flirting or date arranging over coms.”
“No, no, it’s cute, I love it,” Thor laughed genially. “Loki is already planning their wedding -”
“Wedding?!” Bucky shrieked, keeping his voice low because he was a pro (he winced when he could hear Peter’s squeal from fifty yards away… so much for the element of surprise).
Stark, Steve, Natasha, and Thor were the ‘infiltration’ team; Stark was flying overhead, Thor and Natasha were standing side by side at the front door, and Steve was positioned at the back entrance with his trusty shield.
“To be clear, there is no wedding,” Bucky firmly clarified over the unintelligible chaos over the coms. "Okay? No wedding."
“Ohh, my bad…” Thor uncomfortably apologized, twisting to face the treeline and flashing Bucky a quick smile that looked more like a grimace than anything.
“Ouch, harsh, Barnes,” Stark added disapprovingly. “Alright guys, on my count, we’re busting down both doors. Five.”
“It’s okay, big guy,” Natasha mollified, shooting Bucky a fierce glare. “Wanda and I would love to join you for some coffee after this.”
“Four.”
“Am I being ditched for Steve?” Clint muttered before sighing loudly. “Again.”
“Three.”
“You know what they say, Barton - blondes have more fun,” Thor boasted, running a hand through his shorter hair, his bicep flexing tantalizingly in the bright sunlight.
“But they just started dating,” Peter mumbled into the coms, likely talking to Wanda. “Why would Mr. Loki be planning their wedding already?”
‘Agreeing with Peter here,’ past-Bucky said, sharing an exasperated look with Bucky. ‘What is happening today, good lord?’
“Two.”
“Do you, um,” Steve stammered, the hurt in his voice evident. “You don’t wanna get…you don’t want to marry me?
‘Emotional pain is not acceptable according to the mission parameters,’ Winter reminded him as if Bucky somehow forgot one of the main mission rules.
“One.”
“Steve -”
“BOOOOOOOOM”
An explosion rocked the entire mountain top, a huge pile of snow crashing onto Bucky from the branches above and roughly knocking him out of the tree to the ground below. Between the deafening blast and his unexpected, painful removal from his perch, it took Bucky several moments too long to regain his bearings.
‘What the fuck just happened?’ past-Bucky growled on the ground next to him; Winter swiftly lifted their original-self back to his feet and brushed the snow and dirt off his clothes (not that there was anything to brush off considering they weren’t real, but Bucky held his tongue, deciding his time was better spent picking himself off the ground and figuring out if they were now under attack).
‘As we expected,’ Winter hissed when he finished his fussing. ‘It was a trap. We need to locate Steve. Barnes, are you good?’
‘What?’ he asked with confusion. Bucky glanced down, and to his surprise, saw a huge chunk of metal embedded in his right bicep. ‘Fuck! It was a shrapnel bomb. We need to move, NOW.’
“STEVE?” he screamed into the coms, the Avengers in his field of vision slowly hefting themselves up one-by-one, each in different states of disarray.
Thor was digging himself out of a mound of snow and pieces of wood in front of Bucky, his Asgardian-made cape littered with metal debris, but he seemed unharmed besides some shallow cuts. Natasha was crouched on the ground behind him and appeared unscathed, likely kept safe from the blast by Thor shielding her with his larger body and protective clothing. Stark was helping a shaken Clint to his feet, the engineer’s suit scraped and dented all over but still functional. The teens were thankfully uninjured, and Bucky noticed a bunch of metal pieces on the ground in front of the tree the two had claimed as their own.
But there was a distinct lack of Steve, and Bucky’s heart almost burst out of his chest at the realization; Steve was absolutely fucking nowhere to be found.
"Stevie?! Where are you?" he shouted again while moving closer to the remains of the cabin.
“On it!” Wanda called back to Bucky.
“Wanda, run Plan Bun!” Peter shouted, and Bucky could only watch, bewildered, as the youngest hero raced full speed towards the edge of the mountain, his footprints almost nonexistent in the snow with how fast he was moving.
“Location?” Wanda floated briskly behind Peter, her magic propelling herself forward.
“Left.”
Wanda stopped a few yards away from the edge of the mountain, a red tendril of magic flowing from her finger and wrapping tightly around Peter’s ankle. “Secure. Ready.”
Peter flung himself over the side of the mountain and into a sharp dive, the hysterical screams of the adult Avengers echoing across the sparse mountainside, nearly half the trees ripped from the ground by the strength of the blast. Finally regaining control of his limbs, Bucky sprinted towards the witch and left a crimson red trail of blood in his wake, the adrenaline masking any discomfort or pain from the injury.
‘This is even higher than when we fell!’ past-Bucky shrieked, Winter’s metal arm snuggly around his waist in case he stepped too close to the edge while looking for any sign of Peter or Steve. ‘I can hardly see anything, what are we -’
“Payload secure!” Peter screeched after a tense minute, and Bucky repeated the words to Wanda, realizing only his enhanced hearing allowed him to pick up the teen’s words when she didn't react.
Wanda carefully retracted the red line of magic back into her body, beads of sweat dripping down her face from the strain. Her heels dug into the snow, but Bucky soon noticed how she was inching closer and closer to the edge; he wrapped his own metal arm around her waist, carefully lowering both of them to the ground despite the cold of the snow.
The other Avengers joined them, Stark helping a limping Clint and Thor carrying Natasha over his shoulder, the redheaded Avenger rubbing her ears.
After several agonizing minutes, Peter’s foot came into view, and Thor scrambled forward to pull the teen and an unconscious Steve the rest of the way up.
“Holy shit, holy shit, man,” Peter groaned, ripping his face mask off. “That was terrifying.”
“That was NOT okay, young man!” Stark shouted angrily, before pulling Peter into a tight hug, the younger hero’s eyes widening in surprise. “Not okay, kid, my fucking heart cannot handle shit like that. You are very grounded! And yes, I am telling May.”
“Not May, Tony,” Wanda bemoaned, pressed firmly into Clint’s side.
“Steve, Steve,” Bucky whimpered, gently checking his battered boyfriend over. Bucky removed the cowl from his face, revealing the only part of Steve that seemed unharmed. The rest of the man was covered in blood, his arms, torso, and legs littered with pieces of metal jutting out from his skin. “Please, pal, don’t leave me.”
“I’ll get the quinjet,” Natasha said, her voice slightly louder than necessary. She rubbed at her right ear again with a frown. “Be right back.”
Relief flooded his veins when he found a weak but steady pulse. He dropped his head onto Steve’s uninjured forehead, placing a brief kiss on his lips and resting there for a moment, the guilt crushing him down - he was the reason Steve wasn’t alert, the reason why he suffered more grievous injuries compared to everyone else.
“Buck,” Steve groaned, and Bucky’s eyes flew open in shock. “Bucky?”
“Nat’s bringing the quinjet over,” he whispered, brushing Steve’s damp hair off his forehead. “Just hang on, baby, we’ll get you all patched up in no time.”
“Buck,” Steve wheezed, his eyes fluttering closed again. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” he wept quietly, keeping his head low so the others couldn’t see him. “I’m so sorry, Stevie, I’m sorry, please hang on for me.”
“It’s not your fault,” Clint responded softly at his side, Wanda dragged into a group hug with Stark and Peter. The archer stared down at Steve, his face unreadable. “You told us to take it seriously, and we didn’t. That’s on us.”
Steve stirred again, his fingers inching across the snow until they found Bucky’s metal hand resting on the ground. The blonde entwined their fingers together and cracked an eye open, staring vacantly at Bucky and Clint. “Shield?”
“On it,” Peter responded before anyone else could. He shot a web towards the direction of the cabin, and when he yanked his hand back, a familiar red, white, and blue hunk of metal careened towards them. “A bit beaten up, but looks good overall.”
Peter frowned, clearly unsure where to put the shield since Steve’s torso was essentially torn apart and finally decided to place it gently next to Steve’s left side.
The blonde's free hand reached out to caress the shield, a real smile fully forming on his face as his eyes closed once more. “Buck. And shield. Buck. And shield. Love, love. Buck. And shield.” He paused, his eyes shooting open to glassily gaze at Bucky. “And lip ring. Buck. Shield. And lip ring. Love.”
“Oh dear,” Wanda whistled, shooting Clint a panicked glance.
“I sure hope that’s temporary,” Peter mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe a chunk of wood from the cabin hit him?”
“I don’t know, but,” Stark smirked, “I’m kind of fond of this new Cap.”
“Okay, Buck, I know you're mad,” Steve started, and wow, how many times had Bucky heard that specific phrase before?
‘Too many to count,’ past-Bucky chimed in with a groan of frustration.
“The nurses said you should remain in the Medical wing for a WEEK, Steve. How many days were you there again?” Bucky glowered. (He, of course, knew the answer, but he wanted Steve to say it aloud so he could hopefully hear how fucking ridiculous it was for him to be currently sitting on the couch in their apartment without a care in the world.)
‘He’s definitely smug about how he escaped so easily,’ past-Bucky noted. ‘His eyes are practically glowing.’
Winter made a tssking sound. ‘They hardly put up a fight! The quality of healthcare lately is horrendous, and something must be done about it.’
‘I guarantee you they are just tired of dealing with his stubborn ass,’ Bucky groused. ‘Not that I blame them, but I guess it’s our problem now.’
“Well…” Steve winced, looking away. “It was like -“
“Less than twenty four hours!” Bucky yelled, unable to help himself, their four cats all jumping in alarm at the sudden noise. He gently patted Grant’s head in apology, accepting the deserved sharp nip to hand.
“But I hate it there!” Steve whined, somehow making himself look pathetic and small in a way that tugged brutally on Bucky’s heartstrings, the Super Soldier replicating the exact same expertly crafted demeanor pre-serum Steve wielded like a sword. “And I feel safer here. With you, and our family.”
They stared at each other across the couch for several minutes, Bucky finally groaning in annoyance and deflating - he understood where Steve was coming from, and it was easier to look after him in their apartment with no one to interfere, so maybe this wasn’t as awful as he first thought.
“FINE!” Bucky acquiesced, glaring at Steve when he suddenly looked way too cheerful for someone who almost died barely a day ago. “But you’re following my rules, or I’m throwing you over my shoulder and taking you right down to Medical where you will STAY until there’s not a single scratch left on you! I’ll strap you to the bed if I have to, Stevie, don't think I won't.”
“Oh, I know you will, Sergeant Nurse,” Steve purred, scooting closer to Bucky on the couch. "And think of all the fun we could have like that."
Bucky stared straight ahead as Steve sidled up to his side and nuzzled his neck, the former-assassin refusing to give his boyfriend any attention lest he think he was forgiven for his irresponsible behavior. Steve leaned back slightly and licked the shell of his ear, his warm breath causing Bucky to shudder from the pleasant sensation. But he would keep his cool, he would, because he was way too MAD to fall for his boyfriend’s tricks. “Buck.” Steve nipped his earlobe, his tongue darting out to soothe the sharp pinch. “Buck.” Steve started kissing down his neck, letting out small intoxicating sighs that had Bucky digging his metal hand into his own thigh to keep from breaking. “Buck.” He sucked a small hickey into Bucky’s skin, his hand trailing down Bucky’s arm to entwine their fingers together. “Bucky.”
“What?!” he growled, internally face palming at himself.
‘Way to stay strong, Barnes,’ Winter jeered. ‘Real tough under pressure, aren’t ya?’
‘You would not last half as long in that situation, pal,’ past-Bucky hotly countered.
‘Oh?’ Winter swaggered. ‘Is that a challenge?’
Dear lord, Bucky did not want to hear this conversation.
Bucky’s frustration with himself increased when he felt Steve’s smug smirk against his neck. “Will you change my bandages, please? They always put them on wrong, and it’s uncomfortable.”
Rolling his eyes at the lengths his boyfriend would go to in order to be a little shit ('Some things never change,’ past-Bucky sighed nostalgically), he wordlessly offered Steve a hand and carefully helped the injured man relocate to the bathroom in Bucky’s room.
Bucky removed Steve’s hospital gown before the stubborn Super Soldier could attempt to do so on his own, carefully beginning the arduous process of taking off the current dozen or so bandages covering almost the entirety of Steve’s body.
Removing one of the bandages on Steve’s back, Bucky froze when he did not find a cut or a burn as expected, but ink.
‘Holy. Fucking. Shit,’ past-Bucky whistled.
Winter sighed. ‘Uh, please explain what the fuck I’m looking at.’
“You…uh, Stevie?” Bucky stammered, his eyes glued to the colors on Steve’s pale skin, the intricately detailed tattoo about as large as Bucky's hand and situated on his right shoulder blade.
‘Holy. Fucking. Shit,’ past-Bucky repeated in shock. ‘That is so fucking…HOT! What the fuck?! I have so many questions, good lord.’
‘Yeah, get in line,’ Winter hissed, forever annoyed when the other two understood something he didn’t.
“Shit, are they infected?” Steve wondered, trying to twist around to see what caught Bucky’s attention, but Bucky refused to allow Steve to move and take this befuddling yet breathtaking sight away from his eyes. “Buck?”
Bucky painstakingly ripped his eyes away at Steve’s worried tone and somehow found the courage to meet his gaze. “Steve. You. I don’t… tattoo?”
“Oh,” Steve sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Forgot about that…”
“How could you forget about something like that?!” Bucky screeched, his mind simply unable to process such a bizarre statement.
“Because!” Steve said defensively. “I got it the day before the mission because it was the anniversary of the day we became friends, and I wanted to surprise you with it, but then shit kind of hit the fan…so, yes, all things considered, I forgot about it since it wasn’t important anymore.”
‘I never would have guessed that, but wow, fuck, that is cute,’ past-Bucky murmured.
Bucky frowned, crossing his arms over his middle, an uneasy feeling coursing through him at Steve’s dismissive tone. “Stevie. About what I said -”
“No, no.” Steve turned around to face Bucky, gently cupping his cheek. “I got upset over something silly -”
“It’s not silly!” Bucky countered, jutting his chin out. “It just took me by surprise since we were in the middle of a mission, and my words came across wrong. So, I’m sorry for that.”
“You don’t need to apologize -”
“But I do!” he shrieked, placing his hands on his hips. “Because I DO want to get married someday.” Steve’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widening as if this was somehow surprising news. “To you, just so we’re clear, pal.”
Bucky pushed Steve’s mouth closed, unable to resist playfully tickling him under the chin in the process. “Gonna catch flies like that, silly.”
“Oh,” Steve whispered, his eyes drinking in Bucky’s face, a shy smile forming on Bucky’s lips from the unwavering attention. “That’s um, that’s good, Buck.” He nodded several times. “Yep. Real good.”
‘Hello?! Stop ignoring me!’ Winter growled. ‘What the fuck is happening? Is this a brand? I’m not sure how I feel about Steve branding his flawless, perfect skin.’
Bucky sighed, fondly rolling his eyes at Winter’s hysteria. At Steve’s puzzled look, he rushed to explain so his boyfriend didn’t get any stupid ideas. “Winter would like to know the meaning of the ‘brand’ on your ‘flawless, perfect skin.’”
Past-Bucky cackled at his remark. ‘Still weird that you can talk openly about us, but I like it.’
‘Mmm, I don’t,’ Winter huffed in annoyance.
Steve’s expression cleared, and he laughed softly, placing a light kiss on Bucky’s Cupid’s bow. “It’s an Irish symbol called the ‘claddagh’ - the heart represents love, the two hands represent friendship, and the crown represents loyalty.”
“And, am I being conceited, or is one of those hands metal for a particular reason?” Bucky asked, flipping his hair over his shoulder in a gesture he hoped appeared cool and unaffected and not giddy and overflowing with affection like he was feeling inside.
“You are correct in your assessment,” Steve answered with a nod.
“The flower underneath is pretty too,” Bucky added with a small smile. “Daffodils are my favorite.”
“I know,” Steve replied shamelessly. He leaned forward, stealing another quick kiss. “Because they’re your birth month flower.”
“And they’re just awesome overall,” Bucky defended, not actually mad, but trying to hide how he was practically vibrating with the desire to get married to this wonderful man like now.
Past-Bucky made a thoughtful noise. ‘Ya know, I’m pretty sure rings with that symbol are used for weddings.’
Bucky repeated past-Bucky’s comment, Steve’s cheeks flushing pink as he glanced away. “He’s right, they are commonly given as engagement or wedding rings.”
“Well,” Bucky commented, still foolishly attempting to appear unaffected. “I would wear the shit out of one of those rings, just saying.”
Steve’s answering smile was blinding, and Bucky swallowed heavily. “You would look beautiful with any ring, but this one in particular would be perfect. Maybe. Who knows. Guess we will see?”
“Exactly,” Bucky nodded, biting his cheek to keep from screaming in excitement. “We will see what the future holds.”
‘So it is a brand,’ Winter smugly remarked. ‘I was right.’
‘How do you figure?’ past-Bucky asked skeptically.
‘Well, it’s clearly dedicated to us, so he’s essentially branded himself with something that says his love, friendship, and loyalty belong to us,’ Winter explained. ‘As it should, because we are superior.’
‘Huh,’ past-Bucky hummed. ‘A weird way of putting it, but I can see your point.’
“So, um,” Steve bit his lip, his eyes darting to the side. “Do you like it?”
“Uhhh…”
“It’s okay if you don’t!” Steve quickly added, his smile tight across his face. “I just thought -“
Bucky placed his metal hand over Steve’s mouth. “You pick the worst times to actually use your brain. Steve, I love it, it’s beautiful. Truly.”
Steve squinted at Bucky in suspicion. “Really? It’s not too much, or too soon, or creepy, or -“
Bucky carefully cupped Steve’s cheeks, forcing the man to stare at him while he talked. “Honestly? It’s really, really, really fucking sexy. It’s such a shame you’re injured, because otherwise I’d show you just how attractive and sweet and perfect I think it is.”
Steve gasped, placing a hand on his heart. “Now, that’s just cruel, Buck, honestly.”
Bucky shrugged, unconcerned, and returned to his original task of peeling Steve’s bandages off. “A damn shame, truly.”
‘Wonder if there will be anymore,’ past-Bucky mused, and wow, Bucky’s brain immediately went crazy over possible ideas of what they might find.
“I’m not that injured,” Steve tried to bargain, ‘subtly’ flexing his muscles before flinching when the action tugged painfully on some of his wounds.
“Uh huh,” Bucky dismissed with an eye roll.
“Bucky!” Steve whined, and Bucky kept his eyes firmly away from the endearing pout he knew would be on Steve’s face. “It hurt more than the wounds from the mission - I deserve some kisses at least, don’t ya think? Please?”
Bucky tossed his head back, unable to quell his loud laugh at his boyfriend’s audaciousness. “Guess you should have gotten a tongue ring, Stevie.”
‘Or bought us a harpoon,’ Winter added longingly.
Steve huffed. “Maybe I will! It’ll be worth the media scandal if it means unlimited kisses from my best guy.”
‘Dear lord, we cannot handle that,’ past-Bucky groaned.
‘Do I sense a challenge?’ Winter taunted. ‘I’m gonna tell Wanda next time we see her that she should tell Steve to get one.’
‘No!’ Bucky and past-Bucky shrieked simultaneously - the tattoo was bad enough, but Bucky knew a tongue ring would be an entirely new level of attractiveness, and Steve was already too damn handsome as it was.
Bucky distracted his boyfriend with a brief but intense kiss, accepting that Steve was somewhat right with his claim. “I love you, Stevie.”
Steve rested his forehead against Bucky’s, a smile tugging at his lips. “Love you more, Buck. Always.”