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Present Day -- Steve
Steve wakes early. Too early. He can’t fall back to sleep and decides to burn off some energy before he gets too anxious about tonight. Bucky doesn’t move from his spot buried under blankets as Steve dresses, but he knows that Bucky’s just humoring him. This is their norm. Steve sleeps hard and deep, but not much. Bucky sleeps late whenever he’s able to, but he wakes at the slightest noise. The well-trained ears of a sniper pick up anything. Steve knows that as soon as he leaves the apartment, Bucky will be drawn back under the pull of sleep. Hell, he’ll probably be in the exact same spot when Steve returns from his run.
He walks through the city streets, letting the walk loosen his muscles, before he gets to the wooded trail he prefers. It’s always a challenge to quiet his brain, but the ambient sounds of nature surrounding him tend to calm the noise. He stops to stretch at the mouth of the trail, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. He starts with a slow jog, feeling the earth beneath his feet. He listens to his shoes hitting the ground. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Steady, sure, solid. The rhythm of his footfalls clear his mind of his to-do list for the day. Wedding days are full of things that could go wrong. They’re keeping things low-key, and they’ve planned pretty carefully, but Steve feels like he’s waiting for a shoe to drop and spoil his joy. He knows he shouldn’t worry, but after being torn apart so many times, it’s almost as if the universe doesn’t want them together.
Steve cannot remember a time that he didn’t love Bucky. He was young when he realized that his best friend was the center of his world, but didn’t really understand the weight of that fact until much later. They were opposites in every way. Bucky was healthy, Steve was sick. Bucky was strong and broad, Steve was weak and small. Bucky was outgoing, Steve was reserved. Bucky was smooth and confident, Steve was awkward. Period. They were a perfect mismatch. Bucky was always there when they were kids, the constant Steve could depend on. Bucky was the sun that Steve’s world revolved around.
“They say I’m too young to love you
You say I’m too dumb to see
They judge me like a picture book
By the colors, like they forgot to read.
I think we’re like fire and water
I think we’re like the wind and sea
You’re burning up, I’m cooling down
You’re up, I’m down
You’re blind, I see.”
— Brooklyn Baby, Lana Del Rey
1930 something -- Steve
It’s one of the hottest summers ever. The thick, humid air isn’t doing his asthma any favors. Bucky dragged Steve up to the rooftop after dark, claiming there would be a nice cool breeze up that high once the sun went down. Steve’s ma is out for the night working at the hospital, so there was no one to object. Steve has yet to feel the promised breeze, but he has to admit the open air is a nice change from the stuffy apartment.
“This is nice.” Steve stretches out on his back and attempts a deep breath.
“See. I told ya it’d be cooler up here.” Bucky drops down to sit next to him.
“I didn’t say it was cooler, Buck. It’s just…nice. Open. I think I can even make out a few stars up there.”
Bucky turns and leans his head over Steve’s, blocking his view of the vast expanse of space above them. His eyebrows are drawn tight, concern playing over his features. “You still too hot, Stevie?”
Bucky’s face is close. Too close. The moonlight catches his cheekbones and jawline in all the right places. He is breathtaking. Literally. Steve suddenly feels a little short of breath, but his current struggle has nothing to do with his lungs. “Nah, I’m alright.” His voice cracks a little.
Bucky hears the hitch in Steve’s voice but thankfully doesn’t seem to register its cause. His eyes go wide, his hand reaching to palm Steve’s cheek in concern. “You sound like you’re having trouble breathing. Bring your nebulizer?”
Without thinking, Steve instinctively brings his own hand up on top of Bucky’s. “I’m alright, Buck. Really.” He feels Bucky’s hand relax a little under his at the reassurance. “You don’t gotta worry about me all the time.” With a rush of embarrassment, he realizes he’s unconsciously brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of Bucky’s hand. He feels his own pulse quicken and his face go red. Before Bucky can get the wrong idea about the contact, before Bucky can read what he’s thinking, Steve drops his own hand to the ground. “I’m good.”
Bucky leaves his hand on Steve’s cheek. It’s soft and warm. Steve watches as a few different expressions play across Bucky’s face. Bucky is studying Steve, considering. As much as Steve is reveling in Bucky’s touch, he starts to squirm under the intense scrutiny and brushes Bucky’s hand away.
Bucky just moves it down to Steve’s chest instead. He spreads his fingers across Steve’s rib cage, watching it expand and contract with the efforts of Steve’s troubled lungs. He follows the rhythm for a minute, clocking that it’s steady. Steve’s used to this. It doesn’t mean anything. Bucky’s a tactile person and he has never trusted Steve’s word about his own health. Of course Bucky has to actually feel his lungs working before he’ll relent. That’s all this is. There’s no way Bucky knows the effect his touch actually has on Steve. It’s not purposeful.
Slowly, Bucky slides his hand up a little until it’s resting over Steve’s heart. Oh. This is new. Oh. Bucky’s gonna feel Steve’s racing heartbeat if he doesn’t do something to distract him. As Steve begins internally screaming with panic, Bucky’s voice cuts through the noise in his head.
“You sure you can breathe okay up here?” Bucky’s eyes are dark. They’re also inches from Steve’s. Steve just nods, unable to speak with Bucky so close. “Good.” Bucky slowly closes the minimal distance left between them and brings his lips to Steve’s in a soft, chaste kiss. He pulls back and looks down at Steve. “Still okay?”
Steve’s hand finds its way to the back of Bucky’s neck and pulls him back down as a response. Their second kiss isn’t quite as chaste or quick as the first.
“Wise men say, only fools rush in
But I can’t help falling in love with you.
Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin
If I can’t help falling in love with you.”
— Can’t Help Falling in Love, Elvis Presley.
Present Day -- Steve
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Steve concentrates on the sound of his feet hitting the trail again, matching his breathing to his pace, determined not to let his emotions overtake him. It’s too early in the damn day to start crying now. There will be plenty of time for that later.
++++++++++++
Present Day -- Bucky
Bucky tries to get back to sleep after Steve leaves, he really does. On any other day, he would’ve been out within moments of hearing the front door lock behind Steve. Today is different. He disentangles himself from the blankets and lays flat on his back for a moment, contemplating the day to come. He rolls off the king-sized bed and lets his feet hit the floor with a thud. Slowly, he stretches both arms over his head and tries to roll his shoulders to release the knots that formed while he slept at a funny angle.
“Most days I’m keeping to myself
Living in my little bubble
Throwing my weight and moving my body through the sea
You could come join me.”
— Dancing in the Dark, Imagine Dragons
How did he get so goddamn lucky? What had he done in his life to deserve Steve? He’s done a lot of bad shit, that’s for sure. Yes, shit he was not responsible for due to the brainwashing, thank you very much Sam and extensive therapy. He’s past that, mostly. He knows that he’s worthy of Steve’s love. Understanding that truth doesn’t make it any easier to accept. He is not the man he used to be. He is no longer the shiny, happy kid that Steve fell in love with all those years ago. Bucky is self-aware enough to recognize that he’s antisocial and introverted these days. He functions best one-on-one, or with very small groups of people that he already knows. People skills are not his strong suit. He has become the polar opposite of his younger self, yet Steve still looks at him like he hung the goddamn moon.
1930 something -- Bucky
It’s a sweltering summer. The fucking humidity has been giving Steve’s lungs a daily workout. Bucky hates seeing him struggle, especially since the stubborn ass refuses to admit when he’s having a problem. They’re sitting in Steve’s apartment, windows open to invite a breeze that refuses to manifest, as Bucky keeps an eye on Steve’s breathing. Even though Steve continues to insist that he’s fine, Bucky can tell that his breaths are more shallow and quicker than normal. He can always tell when something is off with Steve. He knows him better than he knows himself.
“Stevie, let’s go up to the roof for a while. There’s gotta be a breeze up that high without all the other buildings in the way. The sun’s been gone awhile so it’s probably cooler too.” Bucky waits for Steve to object, ready to sweet-talk him into compliance if necessary.
“Yeah, alright.”
“Oh. Okay, great. I’ll grab the blanket.” He gathers an old blanket from the Rogers’ storage closet and follows as Steve leads the way out the door.
Once on the roof, Bucky spreads the blanket and then walks to the edge to admire the view. “It’s so clear up here. I can see three or four streets over, no problem.” He turns back to find Steve already seated, foregoing a look over the edge.
He sits down next to him as Steve stretches out onto his back. Bucky steals a glance at his stretched out frame before averting his gaze.
“This is nice.”
“See. I told ya it’d be cooler up here.” Bucky smirks to himself, pleased he made Steve happy.
“I didn’t say it was cooler, Buck. It’s just…nice. Open. I think I can even make out a few stars up there.”
Bucky leans over his friend, concerned. “You still too hot, Stevie?”
It takes five agonizing seconds of panic before Steve answers. “Nah, I’m alright.” Steve’s voice cracks a little.
Bucky catches the hitch in Steve’s voice and instantly touches Steve’s cheek in concern. “You sound like you’re having trouble breathing. Bring your nebulizer?” His free hand starts to feel around his own pockets. He internally curses himself for not bringing the spare one he’d seen sitting on the kitchen table.
Suddenly, Steve’s hand is on top of Bucky’s. Oh. “I’m alright, Buck. Really.” Bucky lets his hand go lax and indulge in the feel of Steve’s against it. “You don’t gotta worry about me all the time.” Suddenly, Steve’s thumb is brushing against the back of Bucky’s hand. Oh. This is new. This is good. It’s soft and calming. Just as Bucky is really starting to enjoy the rhythmic touch, Steve abruptly pulls his hand away. “I’m good.” Bucky notices Steve’s skin is suddenly turning warmer under his touch.
Bucky keeps his hand there, enjoying the warm flush of Steve’s skin, studying his face. Steve seems uncomfortable with the contact, the closeness. But, that doesn’t make any sense. They’re always touching each other in one way or another. They’ve practically been living in each others’ pocket since the day they met. Why is this different? Does Steve know how Bucky really feels about him? Can Steve tell what he wants to do right now? Steve starts fidgeting under Bucky and brushes his hand away. He lets his hand fall from Steve’s cheek, settling it on his rib cage instead. He wants to feel Steve's lungs work. Be sure Steve is steady before he takes the leap he’s dying to make. He counts five even breaths. That’s good enough.
With his own heart hammering in his ears, he slides his hand up over Steve’s heart and holds it there. He braces himself and dares to look Steve in the eye. Steve is staring back at Bucky, eyes wide and open. Surprised, maybe, but not scared.
“You sure you can breathe okay up here?” Bucky’s voice comes out low, but steady. Steve nods. “Good.” Bucky brings his lips to Steve’s and closes the distance he’s been waiting years to cross. He keeps it soft and sweet, because he really isn’t sure how Steve will react. He pulls back and looks down. “Still okay?”
Steve slides a hand around Bucky’s neck and pulls him back down. Steve kisses him fiercely, deeply. He makes no attempt to come up for air. Bucky could cry with relief. Instead, he makes some unintelligible noise into Steve’s mouth as Steve licks his tongue and nibbles his bottom lip.
“It took us a while
‘Cause we were young and unsure
With love on the line
What if we would both need more.
But all your flaws and scars are mine.”
— Still Falling For You, Ellie Goulding
Present Day -- Bucky
Tonight is going to be a challenge. A crowd of people. Focused on him. Well, him and Steve, but still… He is going to have to speak in front of them. He really hates being the center of attention. Bucky can feel tension start to rise in his shoulders and across his back. He realizes one of his knees is bouncing, gives up on the light stretching, and goes for his yoga mat. It’s going to take some serious focus to calm himself enough to handle the social expectations of the day. He pads barefoot out into the living room, pushes the coffee table back up against the sofa, and rolls his mat out in the center of the room. He cues up a yoga and meditation playlist on his phone and settles onto the mat. Stretched out into a spectacularly flexible pose in that exact spot on the floor is where Steve finds him who-knows-how-long later.
++++++++++++
Present Day -- Steve
“Uh…hey.” Steve is a little lost for eloquent words when faced with Bucky in that position. How is he even doing that? His eyes rake across the muscles and flesh and vibranium and mess of dark, soft hair until he zeroes in on Bucky’s eyes. He tilts his head to match Bucky’s eye-line. “I figured you’d still be sleeping. Whatcha doin’?” His smile quirks up on one side.
Bucky keeps eye contact with Steve as he slowly unfolds his body. He comes to rest sitting on the floor, legs spread wide on the polished wood, arms stretched wide to touch each foot, torso lowering to the floor. “Getting ready for tonight.” Bucky smirks, eyes boring into Steve’s.
“Acrobatic yoga is required for this evening’s festivities?” Steve lowers himself to the floor facing Bucky and gamely tries to match the position. “I didn’t get the memo.”
“It’s not so much required, as it is highly recommended.” Bucky chuckles at the look of concentration on Steve’s face as he futilely reaches for his feet. “You’re such a punk.” In one quick, graceful movement, Bucky swings one leg across to join the other and sweeps them under himself so he’s on his knees. How is he so fucking graceful? He grabs Steve by the shoulder, pushes him backwards, and climbs on top of him so he’s sitting in Steve’s lap, one leg to each side, knees on the floor. “Why don’t you stick to running and leave the yoga for me.”
“Jerk. I could do it if I practiced a little more.” He lets Bucky push him farther so that his back is flat on the floor.
“I have no doubt that you could, Stevie. I’ve had you in some pretty impressive positions. I could get ya there if you really want. Or…” Bucky leans down slowly, and holds his gaze as he barely ghosts his lips across Steve’s. “…we could find another way to work up a sweat.”
“Tempting.” Steve’s hands slide up across Bucky’s back and he pulls him down closer, chest to chest. He plants a foot firmly on the floor and rolls them over so he’s looking down at Bucky. Arms bracketed on either side of Bucky’s head, Steve leans down and delivers a searing kiss. Bucky melts into him and wraps his legs around Steve’s back. Just as Bucky begins to roll his hips, Steve pulls away, up on his knees, all body contact snatched away. “Ah, ah, ah. We had a deal, remember. Not until after tonight.”
Bucky groans in response, and drops his legs and arms limply to the floor. “You’re a fuckin’ tease, Rogers.”
“Hey pal, you started it.”
After his shower, Steve walks into their bedroom with the intention of gathering his suit and things he’ll need for the evening. It’s midday and there’s enough sunlight streaming through the windows that he doesn’t bother turning on any lights. He turns to head to the walk-in closet and stops short with a sudden gasp. As Bucky steps through the closet doorway into the room, light from the closet is streaming out from behind him, illuminating him from every angle. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. Steve can hear his heart beating in his ears. It’s too fast. His vision starts to white out. Is he falling? It feels like he’s falling. As the visceral tug of memory drags him under, he hears Bucky call out, “Steve?”
The Battle for Earth -- Steve
Steve is standing alone on a dark, vast battlefield. Tony and Thor are down. The rest of his team is who the fuck knows where, maybe dead, he hasn’t seen them since the initial blast. His unbreakable shield is, in fact, badly broken. His body is battered and bleeding. He surveys his odds. One man versus Thanos and an entire army of…what the fuck are those things? The odds are definitely not in his favor, but when did Steve Rogers ever give a shit about odds? He doesn’t back down from a fight. Even one that most likely promises his death. Not if what he’s fighting for matters. Steve takes a breath, grits his teeth, tightens the lash on his shield and is raring to go down fighting when he hears it… his salvation.
“Steve? Steve, it’s Sam. Can you hear me?”
He pauses, transfixed by the crackling noise in his earpiece. He’s confused, too overwhelmed with emotion to believe what he’s hearing could possibly be true when it continues.
“On your left.”
Steve slowly turns to look over his left shoulder and is faced with a brilliant yellow sparkling light. It’s swirling and opening into a large circle. Before Steve can try to comprehend what’s happening, he sees something that makes his heart stop and his breath catch. Bucky steps through the light, illuminated from every angle. Sam swoops in over Bucky’s head as T’Challa, Shuri, and Okoye follow through the light. Other swirling light circles open up across the battlefield and in the sky, each pouring out more and more people, but all Steve can see is Bucky. Bucky, who he watched fall from the train. Bucky, who he watched willingly go into cryo. Bucky, who turned to dust in front of him. Bucky, who he has lost over and over again, is heading straight towards him.
Bucky wastes no time. Gun held at the ready in his right hand, he struts across the short distance directly into Steve’s space.
“Bucky?” Steve can barely choke out his name, too overcome with shock and relief.
“Heya, Steve.” Bucky closes the distance by wrapping his vibranium arm around Steve’s waist and pulling him close.
Steve lets out a strangled noise as Bucky envelops him.
Bucky steps back a little but doesn’t let go of Steve’s waist. “You’re hurt aren’t you, you punk. Never could back down from a fight.”
“No, I mean, yes. But, that’s not it. You’re here. You’re real.” Steve can feel his eyes fill with tears.
Bucky grins. “Sure am.” He hugs him again, and Steve hugs back.
Steve pulls back and lifts a hand to softly touch Bucky’s cheek. “You’ve been gone so long, Buck.” The tears spill over and stream down his cheeks. He lets them fall.
Bucky, his own eyes wet and shining, gently swipes a few of the tears from Steve’s right cheek. “I know. But, I’m here now. And it looks like we’ve got some work to do.”
Steve takes a deep breath and his eyes refocus back to the big picture playing out around them.
“We might not survive this one, Buck.” He lifts what’s left of the shield so Bucky can see the damage. “You can’t use your arm to protect you this time. His weapons are otherworldly.”
“Look around, Steve. I think we’ve got some otherworldly weapons with us, too.”
Steve finally notices the size and make-up of the crowd, on land and in the sky, that has amassed around them during their brief reunion. He doesn’t recognize everyone, nor does he comprehend all of what he’s seeing. Are those people flying on horses? Is that Wakanda he sees through the glowing yellow circle behind Bucky? Did he just see the spider-kid from Queens swing past him? What is happening right now?
One thing is clear, he’s no longer alone.
He’s got an army.
Steve raises his shield and lifts Thor’s axe. He motions for Bucky to follow as he marches determinedly across the field. “You with me?”
“Til the end of the line, pal.” Bucky takes his place next to Steve as Thor joins them on the front line.
Thor and Steve swap weapons before Steve calls his army to attention.
“Avengers... assemble!”
And all fucking hell breaks loose.
“If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won’t cry, I won’t cry
No, I won’t shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me.”
-Stand by Me, Florence and the Machine (originally by Ben E. King)
Present Day -- Steve
“Steve? Steve. Look at me.”
Steve can hear Bucky calling him, but he can’t find him in the chaos. “Bucky!”
“Steve. Can you feel that?” Bucky’s voice is calm, steady, and close.
“Whaddya mean? Feel what?!” He can’t find his breath. His heart is beating so fast. Where’s Bucky’s voice coming from?
He feels something on the back of his neck. He’s about to brush it away when he recognizes the sensation of fingers gently brushing up and down his neck. What the fuck?
“Steve. Focus on me. My voice. My hands. Can you feel me?”
Bucky is on his knees, straddling Steve’s legs as he sits on the floor, back against the bureau. One hand is on the back of Steve’s neck, the other holding one of his hands, gently rubbing across the back of it. “Focus on what you can feel, Steve. Not what you see.” Bucky brings Steve’s hand to his own chest and presses it to his heart. He holds it there and takes a deep breath. When Steve’s fingers spread across Bucky’s chest on their own, he releases Steve’s neck with his other hand and firmly presses it against Steve’s heart.
They sit like that, Bucky across Steve’s legs, hands pressed to each other’s chests, as Bucky repeatedly tells Steve to breathe and waits for his eyes to focus.
“Can you feel the floor beneath you?”
Steve closes his eyes for a minute. “Yeah, Buck.”
“Can you feel your hand over my heart?”
Steve opens his eyes. They’re a little clearer now. “I feel it, Buck. And I feel your hand on mine, too.”
“You with me, Stevie?”
Tears fall from Steve’s eyes. “Til the end of the line.”
“There you are.” Bucky’s voice hitches with relief. “What happened? Where’d you go? You just sunk to the floor.”
“The light behind you from the closet. It looked like you were coming out of the portal all over again.” He chokes back a sob. Bucky lets him get it all out. “I was back on the battlefield. I was so happy to see you, Bucky, you have no idea. We tried so hard. We lost so much… and so many. But, you came back to me. Again.” Tears are streaming down Steve’s face as he gives in to the feelings of both grief and relief.
Bucky leans forward and hugs him, both arms tightly wrapped around him. “I’ll always come back to you, Steve. You’re home to me.”
Steve lets his head drop onto Bucky’s shoulder as he hugs back, letting Bucky physically shoulder some of the emotional weight he’s been carrying. “I know. You’re my home too. I’m so sorry to do this today.”
“No apologies. How many times have I woken you up screaming in the middle of the night. We both have our shit. We carry it together, right?”
“Right.”
“Are you good if I get up off my knees now. They’re kind of killing me on this hardwood.”
Steve laughs. “Damn. You must really be in pain. You’ve never wanted to climb off of me before.”
“Oh, I’ll climb all over you tonight, Rogers. Be ready for it.”
“Yes, sir, Sergeant Barnes.”
++++++++++++
Present Day -- Bucky
They’re both zipping suits into garment bags, and tossing anything else they’ll need tonight into a shared duffle. Bucky doesn’t look up from his task as he asks, “Do you remember our first kiss?”
Steve smiles to himself. “I do. In fact, I was thinking about it earlier today.”
This makes Bucky stop. “No shit? Me too.”
Steve laughs. “Well, we are getting married in a few hours. Seems pretty logical that we’re both thinking about how we got here.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Bucky goes quiet for a moment. “I was so scared to kiss you. I’d been wanting to for so long. I didn’t think you thought of me like that.” He pauses as a grin stretches across his face. “Then, you made a little move, so I figured a kiss might not be as big of a risk as I thought.”
Steve’s eyes go wide. “I did not make a move!”
“I beg to differ. I remember, quite clearly, you brushing the back of my hand with your thumb.”
Steve laughs, loudly, hand to his chest. “Oh, my god. You caught that? I thought I was so smooth pulling my hand away before you noticed.”
“Nope. I felt it. It was electric. I felt it in my blood. When I put my hand on your chest, your breathing quickened too. Stayed steady, but ticked up a little faster.”
Steve crosses the distance between them and hugs Bucky from behind. “I loved you for so long before that. I was always too scared to do anything about it. Thought you wouldn’t even want to be my friend if you knew. But, then you got so close to me that night and I couldn’t help touching you.”
Bucky laughs. “The feeling was mutual, clearly.”
Steve nuzzles his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck. “I’m glad you were brave enough for both of us.”
“Like a river flows, surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be.
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can’t help falling in love with you.”
— Can’t Help Falling in Love, Elvis Presley
Present Day -- Steve
They’re driving out to the wedding site in companionable silence when Bucky suddenly looks over at Steve from the passenger seat with a fierce intensity. “Thank you, Steve.”
“For what?”
Still fixing Steve with the same look, he loudly exhales, like a valve being released. “For coming back to me.”
Steve glances over and looks him in the eye. He can sense there is weight in what Bucky’s trying to tell him by what he finds there. “Whaddya mean?”
“When you disappeared on that platform to go travel through time like fuckin’ Marty McFly. For a few seconds, I thought maybe you’d stay in the past. That was the longest five seconds of my life, waiting for you to appear again.”
“Why would I stay in the past?”
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Avoid all the fighting. Avoid the ice. The aliens. The pain. Thanos. All of it.”
“I wouldn’t stay back there without you.”
“You coulda stayed with Peggy. You told me you saw her the first time you went back. I know how hard it was to walk away from her.” His voice gets smaller. “I thought maybe you’d wanna start over back there with her.”
Steve takes a breath before answering, recognizing with a little sting of pain that Bucky had actually been concerned. He chooses his words carefully. He doesn’t want Bucky to ever have reason to doubt him again. “I loved Peg, I did.” He turns to catch Bucky’s eye. “That was a lifetime ago.” He turns back to the road. “She moved on, had a family, a career, a life. And I moved on too, from her.” He reaches across the center console and grasps the vibranium hand resting on Bucky’s left thigh. “I never moved on from you, Bucky. I’ve loved you always. I could never leave you behind.” He brings Bucky’s hand to his lips, kisses the back of it, and squeezes it tightly before settling them both back down on Bucky’s thigh.
“Thank you.”
“Pal, that’s not something you need to thank me for.”
Bucky’s quiet for a few moments before he continues. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it was a mistake, but you didn’t have to give up the shield for me too.”
Steve laughs. “You can let go of any guilt about that decision. That wasn’t for you. That was for me. The ice, the aliens, the pain, Thanos. I figured I’d put in enough time, a few lifetimes actually, and that I was entitled to retirement.”
“Come on, we talked about it before you gave the shield to Sam. It was a little bit about me.”
“We talked about it because you figure into my post-Avenger plans and I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any interest in taking up the shield yourself.”
“I feel like I’ve been fighting and running for a hundred years, Steve. I’m happy to be done if you are. You sure you’re gonna be able to walk away from a fight?”
“Sam and the rest of the Avengers are capable. I’m not saying I’ll never help out. They’ll call us if there’s another apocalyptic event. Until then, I plan to enjoy my life with my husband.”
Bucky breaks into a grin at the word ‘husband'. “What’re we gonna do if we’re not fighting or training?”
“Whatever we want. I could start drawing again, maybe take up painting too. You seem to like cooking, maybe find a new challenge there. We could travel, too.”
“Sounds like a good start.”
“Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I’m getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when, you’re gonna let me in.
I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.”
— Somewhere Only We Know, Keane
The Wedding -- Steve
Steve knows Bucky is not a fan of people staring at him, so the fact that he’s agreed to the ceremony at all speaks volumes. They agreed to keep it short and sweet. Sam is the officiant. It’s being held in the massive backyard of a private piece of property that Tony owned. When Pepper heard of their original plans for a city hall wedding, she insisted they use it, correctly surmising that Tony would have insisted as well. They can smell the barbecue dinner being prepared in the side yard. It’s not a far drive from home, so they’ll be back in their own bed tonight.
After a few brief readings by Wanda and Clint, Sam gives a short speech about the importance of recognizing love and leaning on those with shared life experience. About how love endures all things, even time and space.
“And now, if I understand correctly, both of you have written your own vows? I mean, I expect that from Steve, he’s all about the rousing speeches, but you too Barnes?” Bucky simply rolls his eyes at him. Sam’s voice noticeably softens, his eyes warm. “Well done, man. Good for you. Please, go ahead.”
Bucky turns to Steve. He pauses and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. It’s so cute, Steve can hardly keep himself from audibly sighing.
“Sometimes I wonder why we’re doing this.” Steve’s eyes go wide. “Don’t give me that look, Steve. Sure, marriage makes things official and all that, but you have always been the other half of me. It’s not possible to make you mean more to me than you already do.” He pauses. “If standing up here in front of a buncha people and swearing to love you forever makes you happy, I’m happy to do it. I’ll do anything for you. You don’t simply belong to me, you are part of me. Since we were kids. No matter where life took us or how circumstances tried to keep us apart. You always found me. I always came back to you. Even when I didn’t know myself, something inside me knew you. It’s always been you for me. The rhythm of my heart is tuned to you. Steven Grant Rogers, I will love you until the end of time and the end of the line. Forever.”
As he takes Steve’s left hand and slides a ring onto his finger, Steve can’t help surging forward to kiss Bucky on the cheek. He quickly whispers “that was amazing, Buck” into his ear before pulling back to take his turn.
“You are home to me, Buck. Always have been. Across decades. Through chaos. Throughout all of time.” He pauses and locks eyes with Bucky to be sure he really heard that line. “Wherever we are. My life is complete because of you. My soul is intrinsically linked with yours. That’s how I always found you, ya know. You’re part of me, the other half of my heart. On days when I have trouble understanding this world that we now live in, your love, your light, and your endless curiosity ground me. I find my way through this unfathomable life, because I have you by my side. You have always been my center of gravity. The light to guide me home. James Buchanan Barnes, I will love you until the end of time and the end of the line. Forever.”
Steve takes Bucky’s left hand and slides a ring onto his ring finger, where it seamlessly blends into the vibranium design, thanks to Shuri. Bucky deviates a bit from Steve’s example and grasps Steve’s hand to pull it up and quickly kiss his knuckles. Steve beams at the gesture.
Sam wipes a tear from his cheek. “Beautiful, guys.” He clears his throat. “Now, for the official business. James, do you take Steven to be your husband?”
Bucky, heroically ignoring the use of his given name because he knew it was coming for this part, smiles warmly at Steve and responds, “I do.”
“Steven, do you take James to be your husband?”
Steve squeezes Bucky’s hands in his own. “I do.”
“With the exchange of vows and rings and ‘I do’s’, it is now my honor to pronounce you married. You may kiss your husband. Properly this time fellas. On the lips, please.” He simply smirks at the annoyed look Bucky throws him.
Steve looks at his husband, his husband, and pulls them flush together. Bucky surprises him by beating him to the punch and kissing him first, deep and passionate, hand gripping his hair, and not at all like Bucky would usually do when he knew he was being watched by a few dozen people. As they pull apart, Steve looks at Bucky with awe and wonder.
“Where’d that come from?”
“He called you my husband and I couldn’t fucking help myself. I love you, Stevie.”
“I love you, Buck.”
“Now, when do we eat and how much longer do we gotta stay after that? Because I can’t wait to get you back home and climb you like a tree, husband.”
“Eat now. Leave when we want. We’ve got all the time in the world, husband. I’m yours, forever.”
And they lived happily ever after, together, dammit.
“It took us a while
With every breath a new day
With love on the line
We’ve had our share of mistakes
But all flaws and scars are mine
Still falling for you
Still falling for you.”
— Still Falling for You, Ellie Goulding
