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Bucky is the one who buys them the tickets, hands them over to Steve, and calls them an early Christmas present.
Steve stares dubiously at the sparkly tickets for Rogers: The Musical in his hands—he hadn’t even known they made sparkly tickets—and then looks back up at Bucky. “You don’t even celebrate Christmas,” he says blankly, at a loss for anything less inane to say.
“Well, I’d say consider it a birthday present, but can you imagine the headlines?” Bucky shoots back. “’Captain America lies about birthday on the fourth of July! Birthday is really in December!’”
Steve winces. “Point taken,” he says. “And that’s a really long headline.”
“Fuck off, you knew what I meant.” Bucky jabs at the tickets Steve’s holding. “Look, it’s been a long couple of years for all of us and you could use something to make you laugh. Trust me, this will definitely make you laugh. Sam and I were rolling in the aisles. Nearly got ourselves kicked out before the usher realized who he was talking to.”
“You know, that’s not exactly a ringing endorsement,” Steve says dryly, but Bucky brushes him off.
“Come on, you gotta get out of the cabin. Take Tony with you, make a date night out of it. Or if Tony doesn’t like musicals, take Tasha, cause she loves ‘em an’ I know how much you like confusing the press about who you’re dating.”
“I don’t know why they get so confused,” Steve admits. “It’s not like I retired with Nat.”
“Yeah, but heaven forbid Captain America be gay. Anyway, you haven’t left this place since Thanos died. I don’t think you can keep saying you’re from Brooklyn when you live in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s not the middle of nowhere, it’s upstate New York. And it doesn’t work like that. I’m still from Brooklyn, no matter where I live currently. And, for your information, I go into town all the time.” Admittedly, the last time had been a month ago, but still.
Bucky just raises an eyebrow.
“Are you sure I should go to this?” he asks. “Wouldn’t it seem like I’m endorsing it if I go? It’s not an official musical.” His publicist had been very firm about that point when they’d first found out about the musical. Steve hadn’t given his approval, so it was really more of a fan-made production that just happened to get a spot on Broadway.
“It’s a private box, no one’s even going to notice you’re there,” Bucky replies. “Besides, I think you’ll like the ending.”
Which means one of two things, because Bucky is a troll who can’t resist needling him: either his character ends the show by marrying Sharon or by kissing Bucky. Those seem to be the two people that he gets paired off with the most often whenever people on the internet, both fans or press, decide to start speculating about his love life again. After all, no one has ever guessed that he and Tony got married in a private ceremony after the Snap five years ago, and it’s not like either of them have been particularly secretive about that.
The ending is worse than he’d expected.
His character doesn’t get together with either Sharon or Bucky. Instead, “Tony” dies and “Steve” goes back in time to be with Peggy after returning the Stones to their timelines. Steve stares in abject horror at all the people on their feet applauding the musical, which ends with character-Steve and character-Peggy sharing a dance together in this new timeline that character-Steve has apparently created.
Beside him, Tony has fallen out of his chair, laughing so hard he can barely breathe. Steve glowers at him as he sinks lower in his seat so that no one realizes they’re there. They haven’t been noticed for the whole show, but with his luck, someone would now.
“Shut up,” he hisses at his husband. “You’re no help.”
“You went back in time,” Tony laughs, gasping for breath between each word. “Darling, you were two feet away from me and you just let me die. I’m so offended. I want a divorce.”
Steve’s gaze catches on the scars snaking up the side of Tony’s neck, and he shudders. Tony nearly had died. If Steve hadn’t been close enough to grab his hand so they could share the Gauntlet’s power between them, if the rest of their army hadn’t realized what they were doing and grabbed onto them as well, things might have been very different.
His silence must have caught Tony’s attention because the laughter suddenly dies away. Something warm grabs onto his hands in his lap, and when Steve looks down, he realizes that it’s Tony’s own hands. Tony squeezes them, smiling up at Steve warmly.
“It’s alright, darling. I’m right here. This—” He lets go with one hand to gesture at the theater. Steve immediately misses him. “This is just an interpretation, and not a very good one at that. It’s like Hamilton. That wasn’t particularly historically accurate either.”
“Yeah, but none of them were alive to protest it.”
Tony tilts his head to the side. “If you’d like, I can see what can be done about putting a stop to it. This could be the shortest run in Broadway history.”
“There have definitely been shorter runs,” Steve points out. He can think of a few that had only one showing, and this one’s already been running for a week. Tony, however, jus waves a dismissive hand, making Steve laugh. Tony always manages to make him laugh. “Look, don’t worry about trying to stop the show. You and Bucky are right—it is funny, I just got caught up in my head.”
There’s a skeptical look in his husband’s eyes, but he doesn’t ask if Steve is sure, which he appreciates.
“It’s fine,” he insists. “Really, if I’d come with Sam and Bucky or even if we’d waited another couple weeks, I’d probably be laughing too. It was just the wrong time.”
“Okay,” Tony says simply, and Steve loves him for how much Tony trusts him. His eyes turn mischievous, and he smirks. “But I want you to know that I’m buying the DVD. We’re going to watch it every year on your birthday because, really, this horror can’t be lived only once.”
Steve groans good-naturedly. “Do we have to?”
“Oh yes. Absolutely.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to distract you when we leave, won’t I?” Steve growls, bending down to give Tony a kiss. His phone chimes, distracting him. He tries to ignore it, but then it chimes again and then a third time.
“Sounds like you better check that,” Tony observes, rocking back on his heels.
“Yeah, yeah.” He pulls his phone out to see a series of texts from his publicist. He groans as soon as he reads the first one. “Someone in the cast must have seen us. We’ve been asked to go backstage.”
Tony bursts into laughter again. “And what are you going to say to them?”
“Do you think I could get away with ‘it was certainly one of the shows I’ve been to’?”
“Oh, Steve, darling.” Tony pats his arm condescendingly. “It’s cute that you think that would work.”
“Worth a try though, right?”
“Sure.”
“It was certainly one of the shows I’ve been to.”
“Um, Mr. Captain America sir?” the actress who played Natasha asks meekly. “I think you forgot a word in there.”
Fuck.