Chapter Text
Saturday
Steve was taking the next week off from work, and Bucky was ecstatic.
Steve had been working his ass off for months, and it had been forever since he’d gone even a day without something being called in. Sometimes Bucky wondered if the others got as many calls, or if it was just Steve. Nat always seemed to be around on weekends, and Tony never left Stark Tower, and those were the only other people Bucky actually spent enough time with to consider them friends.
Needless to say, Steve was exhausted, and anybody could see it. The circles under his eyes when he got up at four or five A.M. every morning spoke for themselves. The way he greeted Bucky faintly, took a few sips of whatever beverage was closest to the front of the fridge, then crashed on his bed immediately spoke numbers for his situation. So of course, Bucky was looking forward to this immensely.
He had already planned the entire week.
Or at least, he wanted to.
Nat was helping him, which made things easier, because Bucky wasn’t good at planning dates that he hadn’t even asked someone to go on yet. Nat thought it was ridiculous that he hadn’t— “You two are practically married, doesn’t a date or two come with the package?”— but Bucky actually found it rather sensible. Steve had always been sort of a loner. He would hang back when they took girls out for a night on the town back in Brooklyn. He never danced, or smiled, or even spoke, really, unless it was to Bucky. Looking back, Bucky couldn’t believe what an idiot he had been. He could have been spending all of those sleepless nights with Steve— just Steve. Instead, he’d brought dames along and probably ruined a lot of missed opportunities.
Well, no more. He vowed to change that on this upcoming week. Starting tomorrow, Sunday, he would make sure Steve had the most exciting, yet simultaneously relaxing week of his life— and next Saturday was going to be the best day of all.
“Have you asked him yet?” Were the first words that came out of Nat’s mouth when Bucky sat down in their normal spot for lunch. He rolled his eyes, cheeks slightly pink as he shook his head. She gave him The Look, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. Bucky scowled right back, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.
“He’s busy,” the brunet insisted, taking a sip of the water provided before ordering. “He just got back from a mission early this mornin’ and hasn’t even gotten outta bed yet.”
“So did you leave a note?” She asked firmly, squinting at him, and for a moment he felt frozen by her icy glare, but he quickly shook it off.
“What the fuck, Nat, no! I’m not gonna ask Stevie out by leavin’ him a note. I’m gonna do right by him, Jesus, he deserves better’n that.” Bucky huffed, plastering a smile on his face when Agnes, the sweet old lady who took their order every Saturday waved and started to make her way over. “Behave,” he warned Nat with a look, and her expression remained neutral, giving no indication of whether or not she was going to take heed, or ignore him entirely.
“Hello, hello!” Agnes greeted cheerfully. “Welcome back, Ms. Tasha, Mr. Barnes!” Bucky chuckled, biting back the urge to tell her that it was just ‘Bucky’, but it had taken him weeks to get her to stop calling him Sergeant, so he took what he could get.
“Why, hello hello to you, Agnes!” He replied warmly. “How are you today?”
“Oh, I’m just peachy, thank you very much,” she replied warmly, and Bucky grinned at Nat, who was smiling stiffly. This was her least favorite part of every Saturday. “Can I get you two the usual?”
“You bet,” Bucky replied, nodding. She wrote something down in her little notepad, but before she could hustle away, Nat spoke up sharply.
“Bucky’s gonna ask Steve out on a date.”
“Oh!” Agnes clapped her hands together, and Bucky nearly flinched away, giving Nat a death stare through his hugely fake smile. “That’s wonderful news! I’m telling you, Mr. Barnes, that man is a catch, but I’m just sorry that I can’t have you to myself. He’s a very lucky guy!” She continued talking the whole way back to the kitchen, seemingly unable to keep her excitement to herself, and Bucky leveled Nat with a cool stare before he burst out laughing, and she even chuckled a bit as well.
“She’s going to be all over you for the rest of the week,” Nat said, grinning, and Bucky just groaned.
“Oh, but I love Aggie, this is fine.” He sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat. A moment passed, silent but for the soft chatter of the diner, and Bucky settled into a sort of calm worry. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Nat.”
“Stick to the plan,” she said simply. “Ask him when you get home. Let him relax tomorrow, make sure he keeps all the devices off. Play your old favorite movies and make dinner for him the way I showed you.”
Bucky groaned, running a hand down the side of his face. “But what if he says no?”
“Then you’re fucked and you’ve gotta get over him real fast,” she said simply, and Bucky froze, scowling at her from between his fingertips.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. Not, ‘He won’t, Bucky, don’t worry’, or ‘Have you seen the way he looks at you’, but ‘You’re fucked and you have to learn to live without the only person who makes you feel like you’re a real human being’. Real nice, Nat.” The food was placed in front of them a few silent minutes later.
It had become apparent to Bucky over the years since he had fully recovered that Natasha was not a very comforting presence. In fact, she seemed to make people uncomfortable more than anything else. But Bucky liked spending time with her because he needed someone in his life who would sugarcoat things like Steve always tried to. He needed someone who would tell him the truth and set him straight, and she was perfect for that. She always said what he needed to hear.
“Get your shit together, eat your food, go home, and ask you boy toy if he wants to officially be your boy toy.”
Well, shit.
Bucky did as he was told, grumbling quietly to himself as he took a bite of his burger, taking his sweet-ass time with each individual bite. She finished quickly and watched him with growing amounts of skepticism until she had been done for ten minutes and he was barely halfway through.
“Aggie, put it on my tab and bring me a to-go box, please!” She called very suddenly. Bucky nearly choked on his food when a black box hit the table in front of him and Nat started shoveling his fries into it. He swallowed quickly and tried to take another bite of his burger but it was snatched out of his hands and placed into the box as well. Nat closed it so harshly that he was surprised it didn’t break before it was shoved into his hands and he was dragged out the door.
“Go home, soldier boy,” Nat said with a hint of a smile. “Go get ‘em.” Then she disappeared down the sidewalk and around a corner. Bucky threw his head back and resisted the urge to shout his displeasure at the sky.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask Steve out. In fact, he really wanted to ask Steve out, which he pondered on his slow walk home. It was that he couldn’t be sure of what Steve wanted.
“I want whatever you want, pal.” Steve’s voice bounced around in his head and Bucky kicked a loose stone as hard as he could with a soft grunt, watching it fly down the sidewalk. Steve was always putting him first and he was terrified that Steve would accept not because he wanted to— but because he thought that was what Bucky wanted him to do.
The walk up the stairs to his shared apartment with Steve was the slowest one yet. Bucky dragged his feet with every step until he was standing outside their door with his food in one hand and his key in the other. Slowly and begrudgingly with Nat’s voice in the back of his head and Steve’s voice in the front, he went inside.
Silence.
For a moment, Bucky dared to hope Steve wasn’t home.
Then the blonde peeked at him from around the corner, and God damnit, bedhead looked good on him. His eyes were bright and happy, and Bucky could melt right then and there when the man came around the corner with a small smile.
“Hey, Buck.”
Holy mother of fuck.
“You comin’ in, or what?”
Sweet baby Jesus.
Okay. Okay, Bucky thought, closing the door behind him. He felt like he was sweating bullets, but his mouth was so dry that he was afraid if he tried to talk, nothing would come out. He put his food on the counter, kicked his shoes off and hung his coat on their rack beside Steve’s, brushing the fabric slightly with his fingertips. Then he turned around with his brow furrowed to find Steve watching him intently.
“What’re you lookin’ at, punk?”
Shit. Fuck. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say. Holy hell. Nat didn’t tell him what to do if this happened. But a second later, Steve was laughing, and he looked more relaxed than Bucky had seen him in a long, long time.
“You, jerk,” Steve replied, leaning on the wall and gazing at Bucky with a soft smile.
Your face is perfect.
“Oh,” he replied stupidly, mentally smacking himself afterwards for such an answer. “What are you up to tonight?” Steve’s expression only seemed to get brighter, and holy shit, Bucky was actually going to melt if this fucker got any cuter.
“Actually, I got off early. I was hoping maybe we could eat out, then come home and watch It’s a Wonderful Life..?” He looked down at his feet and bit his lip, cheeks flushed slightly pink with embarrassment before tilting his head back upwards with his eyebrows raised. “I— I know it’s not Christmas, but, I found it, and.. Well, I know it’s your favorite. So, I thought it would be nice.”
Bucky hated this man with every single ounce of his being. And yet, there was a fire burning so hot in the pit of his stomach, and it was rising towards his chest, and he knew that it was love. He was in fucking love. This god damn angel of a man was ruining his plans by proposing the very same ones— a day early.
Bucky couldn’t help it. He just laughed. He laughed until his stomach hurt and he had to lean against the wall, and he was squinting so hard that he could hardly see the confused innocence on his best friend’s face.
“What’s so funny?” Steve asked halfheartedly, but Bucky just shook his head, trying to calm down. He took a deep breath, letting it out slow, but he was unable to wipe away the seemingly permanent smile.
“Nothin’, pal. Just… How ‘bout you let me make dinner instead?”