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They’re all working the red carpet at Leonardo DiCaprio’s newest film premiere in New York when it first comes to his attention.
Steve thinks he’s completely misheard the reporter at first, so leans closer to her over the barrier and asks: “Sorry?”
“The Sexiest Man Alive ranking?” The blonde woman raises her voice slightly over the hubbub of teenage screaming echoing from the entire length of the red carpet with a frown. Her eyebrows pull closer together and arch towards her temples, unfortunately accentuating how unsteady her false eyelashes were. “It’s a fun lil’ competition run by People. Bucky Barnes was named No.1 this morning?”
Cameras flash like incessant torches, flicking on and off in quick succession to send heady luminescent swirls clouding his vision. He blinks, partly in shock and partly because he can’t believe what he’s hearing, and turns to pick the man out from the crowds.
Bucky is smiling handsomely at a fan’s phone in a glorified selfie with Natasha pressed comfortingly against his side and her tongue poking out. His charcoal suit clings to every curve on that damn body, but the soft swell of his ass and hips unknowingly pave the way to corded muscles and a golden landscape of toned limbs. Steve knew this from… personal experience. He bites his lower lip to ground himself, and wills his eyes to tear themselves away from his boyfriend. Fearfully aware that the tight clench in his lower abdomen was arousal and not indigestion from the $300 worth of Dominos Tony had ordered for a late lunch, Steve does the only thing he can think of to cover up his want. He laughs.
Most people forgot that Bucky was human. He wasn’t always an Avenger, a super-soldier, handy with a gun, but that wasn’t a side anybody but the family tended to see. It was hard to look past the day job- after all, Bucky was 6’1” with steely blue eyes and muscles like cobbled paving. Steve didn’t see Bucky as an Avenger, nor did he see the Winter Soldier. Whenever he stared into those bottle-blue, cool as ice eyes, he saw his Buck: sated and sleepy with his hair up in a messy topknot and laughter rumbling through his lungs-
“I’m sorry,” Steve apologises through a breathy gasp, painfully aware that he was still laughing in the journalist’s face. “I’m sorry. I just- Bucky? God, ma’am, you have no idea how embarrassed he’ll be when he finds out about this.”
She smiles at him then, sheepish and wide-eyed innocent. “You’re not jealous then?”
“Jealous?” Something warm and content stirs in Steve’s stomach; pulling a raw and genuine Steve Rogers smile from deep within. Not a Captain America grin: all white teeth and forced perfection, but a Steve smile with dimples and laughter lines and soft lips. “How could I be jealous? I’m dating the sexiest man alive.”
The journalist squeals under her breath and goes to vigorously scribble something down on her notepad. Her eyes dazzle with excitement, and Steve can’t bring himself to regret his moment of vulnerability.
Because, shit, Bucky was going to kill him. This was gonna be hilarious.
-
“On a scale of one to ‘you fucking moron’,” Bucky marches into the kitchen, where Tony and Steve are tag-teaming making dinner. “Where do you think you rank right now?”
Steve looks up from where he’s wrapping chicken in Parma ham and just blinks. “Is there a particular number you'd like me to say?”
Tony snorts from his left, both Steve and Bucky sending him a pointed glare of don’t get involved.
Rays of Midas light scorched through the windows in laser beams of sunset hues, one side of Bucky’s face illuminated by the soft glow and his contours obscured in dangerous shadows. He waves his phone at Steve in annoyance and frowns petulantly.
“You, on that fucking red carpet last night, chatting shit about some dumb ranking that I was on top of?”
Steve takes the phone from Bucky’s outstretched grasp and flicks the screen up to load the YouTube video he had clearly been watching. It’s from one of those slightly-trashy online news channels; the host dressed in typical LA girl sportswear with heavy makeup. The title of the video is what catches Steve’s eye first.
“‘Captain America has a gush-fest over boyfriend Bucky Barnes’?” He reads questioningly, and raises his eyebrows at Bucky. Tony sidles up behind him to survey the screen over his shoulder, and promptly bursts out laughing.
“Tony, fuck off.” Bucky shoots with a pinched glare and gives the scientist a long, hard look at his middle finger. Tony just snorts and swings a tea-towel over his shoulder to walk away, still visibly giggling. “Could they have picked a shitter title?”
“I literally said that I wasn’t jealous,” Steve scoffs and moves to rest his upper thighs on the counter, crossing his ankles in a placative manner. “It was hardly a gush-fest, which is a godawful phrase in the first place.”
Bucky tilts his head to the side and exhales heavily in irritation. The hoodie- which Steve knows used to be his, judging by how low it hangs past the man’s ass- clinging to his abs means that Steve just can’t take his pissed-off attitude seriously.
“You said that you can’t be jealous because you’re dating the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’.” Bucky’s fingers creak obscenely when he gestures hyperbolic inverted commas over the accolade.
“Yeah-” Steve hands the phone back with a nod, his features crumbling into a confused expression. “I meant that I’m incredibly lucky to be dating somebody so damn hot. Buck, baby, what’s the problem here?”
Bucky sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. His foot stretches to toe the floor tiles sub-consciously and he shrugs; innocent and soft and warm.
“You laughed about it.”
For a second, Steve doesn’t know whether to agree with him or brush it off. Then he realises how embarrassed his beautiful man looks, sweatpants hanging off his hips with his v-line distractingly visible, and suddenly his chest seizes up painfully. Fuck, how did he manage to deserve this?
“Oh, sweetheart.”
He lurches forward to gather Bucky up in his arms, his hands winding around the other man’s back to sit gently against his spine. Bucky’s eyes slip closed in bliss as Steve rests their foreheads together for a heartbeat before he’s pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the brunette’s temple.
“I laughed because I knew how tacky you’d find the whole thing. I laughed because I could just picture the horror on your face when you found out. I laughed, Buck, because I know you.”
Bucky flickers his oceanic eyes up to meet Steve’s and his lips curve upwards into a relieved smile.
“Seriously? Oh, thank god, because I thought-”
“What?” Steve interrupts him with a disbelieving frown. “You thought I was laughing because I didn’t think you shoudda’ won the thing?”
There’s a slight pause before Bucky shrugs mutely and drops his head as a warm flush of fuck, don’t look at me red climbs up his throat.
“You fucking idiot,” Steve tips his head back and laughs. His fingers curl around the hoodie bunching against his boyfriend’s arched spine to drag their bodies closer together. “There’s not one day that goes by when I’m not thinking that I’m the luckiest guy on Earth to be able to have you.”
A pleased whine escapes Bucky’s lips before he’s rolling his eyes and pulling away from Steve’s arms.
“Shut up, dork.”
Steve flings his hands in the air pointedly and gestures at a peeler sitting idle next to the oven.
“There’s carrots to do, baby. Get peeling.”
“Not your slave,” Bucky retorts but does as Steve asks with a wink. “I’m your sexy boyfriend.”
The sheer ludicrousness of the whole situation fills Steve’s head again, and he can’t shake the bubbles of mirth that rise from his lungs.
Bucky turns to dangerously wave the peeler in his personal space, carrot strips hanging from the blades like tendrils. “Steve- stop. Stop laughing, you moron.”
“I’m not.” He replies honestly, and places his hands against his heart to show Bucky his intention. It doesn’t look so great, considering how extensively his body had bowed as he chuckles. “Honestly, I’m sorry. It’s not funny.”
Bucky retracts the peeler with one last stab of the air in warning and turns back to the vegetables. Steve nearly bites through his tongue to calm his trembling abdomen.
Laughter and shouted squeals that signified other loud members of the family reverberates from the communal living area and Bucky outwardly groans. Sam, Clint and Tony enter the kitchen still vigorously involved in a conversation that has Sam cackling and Tony constantly rolling his eyes.
Clint stops dead in the doorway and slaps Sam on the left pec to get his attention. Both Avengers try to stifle their laughter as they look Bucky up and down.
Sam’s the first one to open his mouth, and Steve ignores the urge to flee the kitchen.
“Clint, look, it’s Loreal’s answer to the Manchurian Candidate. How’s it hangin’ Bucky?”
Clint and Tony (who’s been Snapchatting the whole exchange to Pepper since they had first entered the space) lose all façades of control and howl with amusement.
Bucky whirls on Steve in mock horror and crosses his arms defensively. “You told them?!”
“No,” Steve splutters and takes a huge step backwards at the murderous growl that shakes Bucky’s torso. “I didn’t- they must’ve seen the interview.”
“Lies!” Clint yells and jabs an accusing finger in Steve’s direction. Sam just inhales through a wheezing shudder and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Your boyfriend made a group chat to share the good news! We’ve been photoshopping your face onto David Beckham’s body all morning.”
Bucky advances on Steve with an animalistic roar and the peeler still in hand, the harsh kitchen light bouncing off the metal in a display of brilliant blinding shapes. “You’re a fucking dead man.”
“Run!” Tony shouts with a hoot, his phone still upright as his stretches to record Steve sprinting from the kitchen with Bucky hot on his heels. “Good looks don’t make up for a lack of speed!”
“Tony!” Bucky’s breathy screams slam back into the area, the tell-tale signs of an Avenger pursuit crashing throughout the compound. “I said, fuck off!”
Sam’s got his hands on his knees as his body trembles with lagging delight. Tears of laughter still marred his skin as he tried to control his breathing. “That was fucking hilarious.”
“Well,” Clint shrugs and exhales heavily in tandem to relieve his lungs of their ache. “As Steve said in that group chat, Bucky was bound to be embarrassed. He’s dating Captain America for fucks sake. I know who I’d have voted for.”
“Well, we know who would win if the ranking was couple themed.” Tony points out, before slipping his phone into his pocket and clapping his hands together. “And it wouldn’t be me and Pep. Now, this food isn’t gonna make its damn self. I’ve gotta feed two exhausted and famished super soldiers in about, say, forty minutes… out of you two dickheads, who’s gonna be a sweetheart and peel those carrots for me?”