Work Text:
Group Chat: Fr e sh Ste voca do
Hey someone FaceTime me and tell me I look good
Sam: VA meeting
Sam: Send Snaps
I sent snaps 5 min ago
Hello??
Wanda: jfc im checking
Wanda: wow!! The fresh really popped out!
Sam: ^^^^
Sam: No need to flex but okay damn
Nat: Big Hoe Energy tbh
Nat: Send backside pics
You don’t deserve this ass immortalized
I already know it looks good in these pants 💁🏼
Sam: Pics or it didn’t happen
Wanda: pics or it didn’t happen
Nat: You think we don’t have your ass immortalized? That’s bold of you
Wanda: P I C S
Sam: Lol we have a group chat for your lil ass
🤨🤨🤨
Sam: When you voluntarily run in booty shorts
Nat:
Wanda: pics pics pics
Wanda: 📸 📸 📸 📸 📸
Fine fine okay
Jeez
Sam: Jeez
Wanda: holy jeepers
Wanda: ^^^ that one was making fun of you but HOLY JEEPERS
Sam: Holy jeepers x 2
Sam: Poor lighting tho 6/10 skills
Did all three of you really need to screenshot
Wanda: yes
Sam: Where did Nat go
Nat: Bucky when he sees Steve
Sam:
You ever think going On The Run ruined us with vines & memes
Sam: Nah
Nat: No
Wanda: Most likely
A loud thump followed by a series of jingles interrupts Steve’s train of thought and he abandons the group chat in favor of the Fuzzy Ball of Doom (Bucky’s words). Spuds trots over to Steve and slams her face into his legs.
“Hey pretty girl,” Steve says. He bends and scoops her up, earning a loud purr. Back when he first found her Post-Time Reversal, it nearly broke his heart having her growl at him any time he held her. She’s up to speed now with how she’d been during Pre-Time Reversal, though oddly more sociable. It’s probably due to stores having an abundance of cat food available Post-T.R., which Spuds has enthusiastically declared she loves. She especially likes to remind him of all the cat goodies in this timeline at three in the morning to Steve’s sleeping face.
Steve jostles Spuds in his arms. “Bucky’s spending the night so I expect you to behave.” Spuds rubs her face into Steve’s shoulder. He’ll badly need a lint-roller for his suit. “You’ll always be my best girl, but I need some time with my best guy, too.”
Spuds sinks her claws into Steve’s chest—not enough that he can feel pain, but enough to get his attention. She starts squirming to get out of his arms but lets out a mournful yowl as he places her on the floor even though she’s the one who wanted to be set down.
“There’s no need for that attitude,” Steve scolds.
Turning her butt to Steve, Spuds scampers down the hall and toward the kitchen where a bowl of wet food waits. Her collar bell jingles furiously with the speed of her run.
Ignoring his phone buzzing with the group chat, Steve sighs and goes to find the lint roller.
\\\
Steve hasn’t known Bucky’s sister and her fiancé long but he’s overjoyed to be invited to their wedding. Their love for each other is warm and inspiring. Steve’s bar for liking people right now is based on how much they love Bucky and Becca and Charlotte pass the test with flying colors.
Steve’s hands get clammy just thinking about the warm hug Charlotte gave him the first time they met and the following goodbye handshake. She had looked him dead in the eye and squeezed his hand with considerable might while saying, “So nice to meet you, finally! You’ve been so great!” The hand squeeze translated continue being great or die.
Becca’s shovel talk wasn’t as frightening but it did charm Steve—she poured Steve orange juice at brunch while casually saying, “I know your shield is dunzo but if you hurt Bucky, I’ll go back in time, take your shield, and use it to decapitate you.”
So, they certainly are a Power Couple Steve’s honored to know and they certainly love Bucky the way he deserves to be loved. It makes all the effort put into hiding that Steve’s Captain America from Charlotte’s relatives worth it.
Plus, the wedding granted Steve the great treasure of Bucky in a tuxedo. The group chat is blowing up with memes from the picture he sneakily Snapped. Steve’s ass is old news.
“Is something big happening?”
Steve looks up from his phone and his breath catches for the millionth time seeing Bucky in that midnight blue tux. He pockets his phone and pulls the closest empty chair next to his, patting it for Bucky to sit. “No, everything’s fine. No world disasters. How was mingling?”
“Exhausting,” Bucky says, collapsing into the chair with an exaggerated huff. He scoots his chair closer to Steve, pressing their sides together from shoulder-to-hip. Steve brightens immediately at the small act of affection, shameless in his visible love for Bucky. “Lettie’s Uncle Otis stole the last of Annie’s special lemonade,” Bucky says, “the bastard.”
“Bastard,” Steve repeats, nodding along with appropriate seriousness. “Want me to beat him up for you?”
“My hero,” Bucky says, lightly pressing his shoulder into Steve’s. “But you are retired from all punching.”
Steve has an unfair advantage at knowing all Bucky’s tells from remembering their time together Pre-T.R. Bucky hasn’t caught on to Steve knowing cuticle-picking is a sure sign of Bucky’s stress and insecurity.
Taking the hand Bucky’s using to pick at the skin around his thumb, Steve laces their fingers together. The prosthetic is pleasantly warm against Steve’s palm and fingers. “Yes, I am,” he says. “Well, maybe a little punching here and there.” Bucky laughs the laugh that brings little crinkles to the corner of his eyes. “But yes to retirement,” Steve promises.
Bucky shifts, twisting his upper body to be able to cup Steve’s cheek with his free hand. “Maybe you should also retire from the looks department. This suit is so good on you it should be illegal.”
Bucky’s hand shifts to accommodate the face-splitting smile that lights up Steve’s face. He’s still getting used to post-T.R. Bucky’s flirting — still sarcastic but with a more sultry purr. “You’re not so bad yourself,” Steve says.
Laughing, Bucky drops his hand. “Thanks.”
Steve picks Bucky’s hand back up and nuzzles his cheek into the palm, encouraging more bubbly laughter.
“Your stubble tickles, you punk!”
“My sincerest apologies.” Steve stops his nuzzling. Before letting go, he kisses Bucky’s palm.
Bucky’s cheeks turn a dusty pink. “Ack! You’re such a sap.”
“Well,” Steve bends over and reaches under his chair, “if you don’t want a loving boyfriend I guess I won’t give you this then.” He holds up the glass of the special lemonade that he’s been saving.
“Holy shit, you’re the fucking best!” Bucky lets go of the hand holding Steve’s and makes grabby hands.
Stretching his arm away, Steve hums. “I don’t know, Buck. I’m actually pretty thirsty.”
“You’ll be a different kind of thirsty if you don’t give that to me right now.”
Steve snorts and pulls his arm back. Bucky’s thank you is curt as he snatches the drink. Bucky spends a few minutes huffing and rearranging Steve’s limbs until Bucky is slanted sideways, leaning against Steve’s chest with his head tucked under Steve’s chin. He takes a long, audible sip of his lemonade and releases an extremely satisfied sigh. Smiling dopily, Steve rests his chin on Bucky’s head and allows his nerves to settle as his heart buzzes happily.
He knows Bucky won’t talk again until he’s sipped every last drop, so he savors the solid weight of his sweetheart against him and returns to watching the room. He memorizes all the different sights and little scenes to sketch later. The flower centerpieces on each table are too brilliant to capture on a page or in a picture, though, and Steve has to remember to sneak a bouquet home.
Earlier, Steve had complimented Charlotte on the flower choices. She burst into laughter and had to cover her mouth to get under control. “Oh, they’re hideous!” she had whispered to Steve. “Bucky insisted on customizing each bouquet. The florist assured us that none of the flower meanings mean what Bucky thinks they mean and tried to convince us to let her do the arrangements.”
“I can feel you getting sappy,” Bucky speaks up. Ice cubes clink together as he drinks the last of his lemonade. “What are you thinking about?”
Steve stares at a pink lily. “Nothin’.”
“Liar.” Bucky holds his glass out and Steve takes it, placing it on the table. Bucky snuggles into Steve’s chest and they sit in silence. Their quiet affection feeds off of each other until they’re in a little bubble of their own. “Steve?”
Steve hums.
“Do you ever miss old me? Like, the me from before the time-reversal.”
Steve takes a moment to gather his thoughts. His pauses can make Bucky anxious in this timeline, so he threads his fingers with Bucky’s again, giving a squeeze. “I miss certain things about the life we had,” Steve says eventually. “But I don’t miss you because you’re right here.”
Playing with Steve’s fingers, Bucky emphasizes, “But I’m different.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “And so am I. Even from what you can remember from before, you can tell I’m not the same person as when we lived in Indiana. I’m not going to be the same person I am right now for the rest of life, either. We’re going to grow to be different people all the time, time-rewind or not.”
Bucky readjusts against Steve and makes a low grumbling sound. “But you can like one version of me more than rest. You might not like who I grow into.”
Steve thinks again, trying to figure out the question Bucky’s asking. “As long as I have you with me, I’m happy. If there’s anything I’ve ever learned it’s that being able to make new memories is taken for granted too often. Bucky, I promise I’ll love all versions of you equally. If I fell for the guy who hated me at first sight—the grumpy you who was deeply depressed and in grief and locked himself up in a garage and closed everyone out — ”
“Hey,” Bucky says.
“And if I fell for this you with your time-consuming job and nosey sister and spotty memory and cockier attitude—”
“Hey!” Bucky straightens up and turns to face Steve with a scowl.
“Then I’m sure I’ll fall for whoever you are next.” Steve brushes his fingers over Bucky’s cheek. “Every version of you is the perfect version for every version of me.”
Bucky closes his eyes. “That’s a big promise.”
“I don’t do things half-way.”
“You really don’t,” Bucky whispers, opening his eyes.
“Dance with me,” Steve says.
Bucky smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”
As they begin slow dancing on the dance floor, the song abruptly changes and Steve’s suspicions that Nat is in contact with Becca increases. Bucky’s preoccupied leading Steve through a slow foxtrot and misses Becca and Charlotte’s giggling directed at them.
When Kitty Kallen’s voice crackles through the speakers, Steve sings the lyrics in a mumble. “ Never thought that you would be standing here so close to me.”
Bucky glances up with his big gray eyes and stumbles on a step. “Oh, you just got so much sappier. You’re evolving like a Pokemon before my eyes. I don’t know if I can handle third evolution sappiest Steve.”
Steve grins and takes over leading. “Oh, just wait.” He hums and picks singing back up at, “You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you or just how empty they all seemed without you.”
“Yep, third evolution is going to kill me.”
\\\
Later that night, they curl up on Steve’s couch before bed. Steve’s nestled into Bucky’s chest and Spuds is greedily stretched between both their laps. Mulan casts a soft light on the room from the T.V. and Steve feels like the Grinch with his heart swelling enormously inside his chest.
“Bucky?” Steve mumbles.
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
“Cool.” A few minutes later, Bucky’s sleep-slurred voice says, “I love your dumb face, too.”