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Parents don’t really get honeymoons.
The wedding had been a small affair. Originally, they had planned on something more traditional, but they didn’t have the time or money for a fancy ass wedding. Besides, Bucky didn’t talk to his family, Steve just had his mom, and their only adult friend was Sam.
So, on one particularly nice Saturday, they decided fuck it, let’s just do this and went to the courthouse.
Bucky wore his formal blues and Steve put on the suit he wore for only very special occasions (mostly publication meetings and nice dinners). Natasha picked out her favorite tutu and Clint decided to wear his Batman costume.
They already had rings, and came up with vows on the spot. Sarah cried, and Sam pretended not to. Afterwards, they all went to get brunch at a place that was too nice to bring the kids to, but they did anyway. At least the two of them sort of behaved.
It took three weeks before Steve and Bucky could get any free time for a honeymoon.
“Holy shit.” Bucky breathes, walking into the hotel room. “This place… this place is nice.” The room is massive, and has a balcony with a beautiful view of the skyline. He drops his bag and jumps onto the bed, which is the biggest bed he had ever seen in life. “Can we afford this?”
“Ah, it's not like the kids need to go to college.” Steve collapses on the other side of the bed, so that their heads are right next to each other. Bucky turns to look him, unable to keep from smiling.
“Hey.” He says, nose brushing against Steve’s.
Steve smiles brightly. “We’re married.”
“I know.” The two of them have repeated this conversation probably three hundred times since the ceremony, and it still never fails to bring butterflies to Bucky’s stomach. “Dude. I love the shit out of you.”
Steve’s sigh is both dreamy and sarcastic. “You’re such a romantic, Barnes.”
“Hey, that’s Barnes hyphen Rogers to you.” Bucky corrects. He sits up, spine cracking loudly. “Wanna see how big the shower is?”
Steve, still laying down, raises his eyebrows. “Is that code for sexy stuff?”
“It can be.”
About forty five minutes later, the two of them are in the fluffy hotel bathrobes, watching the television and eating room service as Steve fiddles with Bucky’s hair, practicing a particularly complicated bow braid that Natasha wanted for picture day.
Bucky’s half watching the Julia Roberts movie, eating fries. He scratches his left shoulder anxiously. After his eighth cursory glance at the clock, Steve sighs loudly. “You wanna call the kids, don’t you?”
“No.” Bucky says defensively, lying his ass off. When they had planned their honeymoon, it had been all oh, it would be nice to get away, wouldn’t it? just the two of us, no kids. we’re just gonna leave them with Sarah and only call them in case of emergency.
“They’re fine.” Steve says comfortingly. He squeezes Bucky’s thigh. “They’re with my mom. They’re 13 blocks away. They’ll be fine for a weekend.”
Steve is probably right. Sarah loves the kids and the kids just think she’s the coolest. Besides, Natasha knows Bucky’s phone number, and if there’s an emergency, they’re close enough that Clint could probably shout loud enough for Bucky to hear him from here.
Still.
“I’ve never been away from them this long.” Bucky says, chewing on his thumbnail.
Steve reaches up and gently pulls Bucky’s hand away from his mouth. “Buck, it's been less than an hour.”
“I mean, for the whole weekend. That’s-that’s a long time.” Bucky says. “So many things could happen. What if Clint has a nightmare? What if Tony finally blows up the apartment building? What if they tire out your mom? What if Natasha eats guava and has an allergic reaction?”
Steve frowns. “Is Natasha allergic to guava?”
“I don’t know!” Bucky gestures wildly. “She could be! She’s never had it!”
“I doubt my mom will feed either of the kids any guava.” Steve says dryly. He catches Bucky’s failing hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Bucky. Babe. My darling. My moon and stars. My dude. You need to take a deep breath.”
Bucky nods, squeezing Steve’s hand. “I know, I know.” He takes a couple of moments to collect himself, then sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m ruining this. I just don’t know how to relax.”
“Well.” Steve smirks. “You are on your honeymoon. I can think of a few ways.”
A few more orgasms later, Steve glances at the clock and lazily remarks that they only have five minutes to make it to their dinner reservations. They’re completely naked and draped over the bed, not to mention that the restaurant is a twenty minute walk away.
Steve calls the restaurant and Bucky calls a taxi, and they manage to only be a few minutes late. It's incredibly fancy. The hostess greets them warmly, leading them to their table. Steve had called ahead to make sure that they had a specific table, so that Bucky could sit with his back to the wall and have a clear sight of the door.
“Wow.” Bucky says in a hushed tone, schootching closer to the table. “How did you get a reservation to this place?”
Steve moves the candle to the side of the table, then smooths out the table cloth, not meeting Bucky’s eyes. “Uh, y’know. Called in a few favors.”
“Uh-huh.” Bucky says, unconvinced. “Howard?”
“Yeah. Howard.” Steve confirms, still picking at the table cloth. The waiter came over attentively, holding a bucket of ice that contained a bottle of fancy-ass champagne.
Bucky’s can see Steve’s eyes go a little wide. “Sorry, could you open that it the kitchen?”
The waiter didn’t even falter, just nodded politely and carried it off. Bucky felt a warmth bloom in his chest for Steve, this wonderful man, who could anticipate Bucky’s needs before he even realised what they were. Steve knew that the popping of the cork would be triggering as all hell for Bucky and fixed the situation before it even arised, before Bucky had even figured it out.
Bucky smiles dopily. “I love you, Steve.”
Steve looks a little taken aback at the non-sequitur, but smiles all the same, a blush on his cheeks. “Love you too, Buck.”
The waiter came back with the open bottle, pouring them each a glass. Bucky can’t begin to figure out how half of the stuff on the menu is pronounced, so when he’s asked what he would like, he just points.
Steve, thankfully, does the same, and the waiter takes their menus and leaves. Bucky raises his glass. “To you. You’re a wonderful husband, and a great father to my kids. I couldn’t ask for a better person to spend my life with.”
“Oh.” Steve flushes, the candlelight making him look positively angelic. He lifts his head to look at Bucky, and his eyes are sparkling. He holds his glass aloft. “Yeah. To-to you, too. All of that stuff you just- yeah. Ditto.”
“Such a poet.” Bucky clinks his glass against Steve’s, unable to keep from smiling. Steve makes it so easy to smile.
“Suck my dick.” Steve mumbles embarrassedly, sipping his champaigne.
“Maybe later,” Bucky replies, doing the same. He swallows the drink and shivers. “Fuck , that’s good.”
Steve doesn’t even have a smart retort, moaning around the mouthful of sparkling wine. “Holy mary, mother of god.”
“I’ve never realized it before but, wine is… good?” Bucky says, laughing a little. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker; not much of a drinker in general. But Steve actually went out of his way to buy wine and talk about it's notes of berries and oak or whatever the fuck.
Steve rolls his eyes, kicking him under the table. Bucky just catches his foot between his calves, and soon they’re just playing footsie, like lovesick, kinda violent teenagers. Bucky’s gonna have bruises on his shins later. Steve is weirdly competitive about these sort of things.
A different waiter from before comes by with bread and butter, and they both pause, a little shame-faced. It was kinda funny; Bucky hasn’t gone to a restaurant without his kids in the longest time, and this was the kind of thing he scolded them for doing at nice places. Of course he and Steve had to do the same.
“Oh shit, this bread is warm.” Bucky holds a roll near his face, only barely resisting the urge to rest his cheek against it. “Steve, we’re not even to the main course yet, but I might end up leaving you for this food.”
“Tha’s okay.” Steve says, mouth full. “I’d fuck this butter.”
The appetizers were amazing. “Buck, if you keep making noises like that, they’re gonna kick us out of here.” Steve mutters, then shoots a venomous look at a waitress who was watching them with two spots of color high on her cheeks.
“Or maybe we’re gonna have to start charging for the show.” Bucky adds, winking at the poor girl. Steve’s face grows thunderous.
Because Steve is too predictable and Bucky loves tiling him up, his jealousy takes them to the overly posh bathroom for a completely irresponsible, immature, and deeply rewarding quickie. When they return for their second course, Steve’s suit is rumpled and Bucky has suck marks developing on his neck, hair in complete disarray.
Neither of them can hold their drink well. Steve is a natural lightweight and Bucky’s alcohol tolerance never recovered after his injury. They finish the bottle of champagne with the main course, giggling over nothing, warm and full and altogether too in love with one another to function.
The walk back to the hotel is refreshing. The cool night air feels good on Bucky’s wine-flushed skin. Steve is tucked against his side, fingers slipping into the gaps between the buttons on his shirt and it seemed, for a moment, like New York was empty and just for the two of them.
“I wanna do a cartwheel.” Bucky says suddenly. There was a long stretch of sidewalk ahead. “Mmm. No. Maybe not.”
“No. You said it. Now you have to do it.” Steve says poking him in the chest. “Coward.” He adds, because he knew Bucky.
Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Fix my hair.” He leans down for Steve to tuck in his flyaways. Then, he straightens, eyeing the concrete.
He takes off in a controlled run, then bounds forward, planting his hand on the ground. It was only after he was in the air that he realized that he only had the one arm. “Shit!”
Bucky lands in a stunned heap, then catches sight of Steve’s horrified face and starts laughing. “Maybe I should pay attention more in the kid’s gymnastics class.”
“Oh my god why would you try to cartwheel, you idiot!” Steve says, rushing forward. He helps Bucky to his feet, dusting the gravel off his ass.
“You told me to!” Bucky protests, throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulders.
Steve snakes an arm around Bucky’s waist, pressed close. “Mm. No. That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”
“Punk.” Bucky mutters, dropping a kiss atop Steve head.
“Jerk.”
They make it back to the hotel without further injury. They’re already mostly naked by the time they get off the elevator, mouths pressed hotly against skin as the fumble for the keycard.
Their clothes get thrown about the room and they tumble into bed together. By the time they finally drift off, they’re sweaty and satisfied.
When Bucky wakes up, the sun is already high in the sky, and he can’t remember the last time he slept this late. He wakes Steve up with kisses, first on his freckled shoulder, then his skinny chest, then the soft skin of his stomach. Steve stirs awake before Bucky reaches his intended target, looking down at Bucky with a smile and softly carding a hand through his hair.
After they’re properly awake, they enjoy the massive shower (Steve makes very creative use of the given space) and get dressed. Once the finally collapse in bed, Steve pats Bucky’s belly proudly. “Alright, you’ve been good and it's been long enough. You can call the kids.”
Bucky bolts up, searching for his phone. He finds them in the pocket of his pants, which had been strewn carelessly on the floor. He composes himself a little, then climbs on the bed and hands the phone to Steve, so he could FaceTime Sarah.
“Oh, hello boys!” She greets them, holding the phone shakily. “How’s goes the vacation? Wait, actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“Moooooom.” Steve complains, turning pink. “C’mon.”
“How are the kids?” Bucky asks quickly.
Sarah smiles. “Oh, they’re just lovely.”
“ My kids?” Bucky says incredulously. “I don’t think anyone has ever called the two of them lovely before.”
“Ach, no. They’re just the sweetest little folks.” Sarah waves him off. “They’re helping me make lunch.”
Bucky blinks with surprise. “It's already lunch time?”
“My goodness,” Sarah looks half amused and half like she’s ready to clutch her pearls. “You two have been busy.”
“ Mo ther.” Steve covers his eyes. Bucky buries his face in Steve’s shoulder, giggling. Steve huffs, so very burdened by his loving mother and husband. “Can we please see Clint and Nat?”
She looks briefly proud of herself, then nods. “Of course, my love. They’re right here.”
The video became shaky as Sarah hands off the phone to Natasha. She’s wearing her little apron, which Bucky had embroidered himself. “Hi, Daddy! Hi, Steve!”
“Hi, baby.” Bucky says, shoulders instantly relaxing.
Steve grins at her, waving. “Hey, Tash. How’s your weekend been?”
“Pretty good. We went to a museum and had tea and saw a movie. Now we’re making...” Her nose scrunches up. “Col… colca… Mama Sarah, what was it?”
“Colcannon, dear.” Sarah tells her from Natasha’s eyes dart up, looking at someone off screen. She rolls her eyes and signs DAD AND #STEVE. Steve’s name-sign is like the sign for “father”, but with the hand shape of an ‘s’. When Clint had first used it, Steve had hugged him too tight, pretending not to tear up.
Clint stumbles into view, smiling widely. He’s covered in food. “How’s your honeymooning goin’?”
“So far so good, kiddo.” Bucky tells him. Steve’s holding the phone, and Bucky’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders. Clint and Natasha’s cheeks are pressed together so that both of their faces could fit on screen, and Bucky’s heart clenches at the sight of them. He squeezes Steve closer to him, hugging the kids by proxy.
“Remind them I’m not speaking to them!” A little voice shouts from off screen.
Natasha sighs, rolling her eyes in a dramatic way she learned from Steve. “Tony’s still salty that he didn’t get to go to the wedding.”
“He’s salty?” Bucky laughs. He has no idea where Natasha learned that word. He just raises his voice a little. “Hello, Tony!”
“Hey, Mr. Barnes! Wait- dammit!”
“Swear jar.” Steve, Natasha, and Bucky chime in unison. Clint looks wildly at the three of them, and then pouts a little. In the background, they could see Tony stomping around in the background with his little billfold out. “Mama Sarah told him off.” Natasha says in a hushed voice, eyes alight with sadistic glee.
“She did?” Bucky asks incredulously.
Clint grinned. “He’s wasn’t helping to cook last night and when Mama Sarah asked him how come, he said he was too rich and important.”
“Oh, boy.” Steve breathes. Bucky laughs under his breath. After meeting Sarah Rogers, it was quite clear where Steve got his… whole thing from. “If there's one my mom hates, it’s elitism.”
“And Tony’s got plenty of that.” Natasha says seriously, though Bucky is sure that she doesn’t know what the word means.
Steve laughs, then tries to hide it as a cough. Bucky just rolls his eyes. He loves the kid, he does, but Tony has a very specific way of irritating people. “Well, hopefully he’ll be over it by the time we get back. I was thinking of taking you three out to Madison Square Park next weekend.” He pauses, waiting to deliver the finishing blow. “Maybe we could swing by The Nation Museum Of Mathematics.”
It works. Tony is suddenly in frame, pushing Clint out of his way. “Really? Can go to MoMath? Bucky, can we, can we, can we?”
Bucky pauses, as if considering this. “I suppose so.”
Tony runs around the room with his fists in the air, cheering excitedly. Natasha and Clint look vaguely suspicious. “A math museum?” Natasha asks, disgust written plainly on her face.
“I promise it’s more fun than it sounds.” Bucky says, extending his pinky, even though the kids couldn’t see.
“Really.” Natasha asks flatly. “What could be more exciting than a museum about math?” Tony was still yelling.
Bucky looks at Steve. “I’m blaming you for the sarcasm.”
“Unh-uh. That’s clearly an inherited trait.” Steve says, shaking his head. “That’s on you, Barnes.”
“Barnes hyphen Rogers.” Bucky corrects, and can’t help but smile.
Clint frowns. “I think I’m starting to have too many last names.” Barton-Barnes sounded alright, if a little wordy; but Steve was going through the process of legally adopting both kids, so that he’d have legal rights as their father. So Clint would soon be Clinton Francis Barton-Barnes-Rogers. Which. Is admittedly, a lot.
“Yeah, and Tony will too.” Natasha nods.
Bucky chokes a little on air. “You know Tony isn’t… ours, right, Tasha?”
“Well, not yet .” She rolls her eyes. “But when he is it’ll be Anthony Edward Stark-Barnes-Rogers. That sounds bad. Maybe Stark-Rogers-Barnes? Barnes-Rogers-Stark.” She makes a frustrated face. “I’ll figure it out.”
“What about Starnesgers?” Tony shouts from across the room.
Clint laughs. Natasha looks exasperatedly at the camera. “Maybe we shouldn’t adopt him.”
“Tony already has a family, Nat.” Steve tries to explain. “We can’t go around adopting every person we’re friends with, no matter how much we might want to.” Steve shoots a look at Bucky with that, even though Bucky is completely innocent in this matter. Well. Mostly. “He’s still a part of our family, but he doesn’t get to have the fun complicated hyphenated last name like you and Clint.”
“Should we have gone with Barngers? Or maybe Rarnes? Bucky asks. Steve gives him a flat look. “No, you’re right, hyphenated is way better.”
Steve, bless him, just gives Bucky an indulgent smile and shakes his head. “You’re an idiot.”
“Hey, you married me.” Bucky says with a stupid grin on his face.
“God help me, I did.” Steve sighs, turning to kiss him.
The kids aren’t old enough to get grossed out by physical displays of affection yet, but Tony is and he loudly makes his disgust known.
“Oh hush, child.” Sarah says, and they can see her rolling her eyes in the background. She looks at Steve and Bucky and shakes her head. “I swear that boy’ll not make it through the weekend if he don’t learn to respect his elders.”
Bucky can see Tony preparing a small remark in the background, but Clint is quick enough to shoot one of Nat’s little hairbands at him to keep him quiet.
Steve sighs good naturedly. “Thanks for keeping an eye on them, Ma.”
“I only agreed to look after two little ones.” Sarah says, eyebrow raised. “What becomes of this one is not my responsibility.” Even as she says it, she’s ruffling a gentle hand through Tony's hair.
“When are you coming home, Daddy?” Clint asks, playing with the hem of his shirt. Bucky was worried about leaving Clint the most. He sometimes wonder if the kid will have abandonment issues after Barney left.
Bucky smiles. “We’ll be back tomorrow, sweetheart.”
“Oh. That’s okay, then.” He smiles, then slides off of the chair. “Tony, let’s go play with your pizza robot!”
Bucky blinks. “O-okay. Love you! Have fun! Watch your fingers around Donatella! Aaaand, he’s gone.”
Steve chuckles against his shoulder. Natasha just looks vaguely annoyed. “Tony has been teaching Clint math. ” She looks repulsed by this declaration.
“Oh, no.” Steve replies gravely. “Not math.”
“There’s shapes in it!” She complains. “I think it's called geology.”
“I think geology is the one with rocks, baby.” Bucky said. “You’re thinking of geometry.”
She rolls her eyes at him. “Whatever. It's all stupid and dumb.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Steve mutters. Bucky can’t elbow him, but does make a face.
Bucky knows that Natasha is possessive of Clint and insecure about his friendship with Tony. He doesn’t know how to tell her that Clint is absolutely devoted to her. “Maybe Tony can teach you something too?” He offers.
She just scowls. “I don’t need him to teach me anything.”
“Hey, Maybe you can start teaching Tony some Russian, huh?” Steve offers.
Natasha actually looks like she’s considering it. The kid was always trying to prove she was the best, just like Steve. It's no wonder why Bucky loves them both so much. “Hmm. Maybe.”
“Alright, Tasha. Seen you soon, okay, baby?” Bucky says. “Love you.”
“Love you, daddy.” She says, making the hand sign.
Steve squishes his face close to the screen, making her giggle. “I love you, Natasha.”
“Love you too, dad.” She blows them both kisses, then flounces off to find the boys. Steve is left blinking after her, dumbstruck.
Sarah takes the discarded phone, chuckling. “Those kids of yours are something else, Steven.”
“Yeah.” Steve says, then clears his throat. His face is full of love and wonderment and gratitude. Bucky’s never loved him more than in that moment. “Yeah, they are.”