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Steve’s on the phone with Sam, gushing about the cute guy walking his dog not three feet in front of him—he’s so cute, I swear to—when the subject of his fascination whips around to chirp a bright, “She’s a girl, actually!” He picks up the Shih Tzu at his side and shuffles closer to shove the wiggling ball of fluff at Steve’s chest with absolutely zero warning. “Her name’s Baby Spice.”
Three things immediately become clear as Steve flushes in mortification and fumbles to hang up on his best friend.
For one, the cute guy is wearing a pair of chunky earrings and not a pair of AirPods jesus fuck Rogers, you idiot! For another, cute guy instantly gets upgraded to the most gorgeous man he’s ever laid eyes on holy fuck. And last but certainly not least, Baby Spice fits in the cradle of his arms oh so perfectly, like she was always meant to lounge in the crook of his elbow for the rest of her days.
Steve thinks he might just be having one of those impossible romcom meet-cutes.
◆
They get drinks that very night, dinner that weekend, and a walk with Baby Spice on the Sunday.
A week later and Steve's gotten to know Bucky's shitty mattress and its dozen broken springs like the back of his fucking hand. Serum, schmerum, his back is killing him.
Bucky, somehow, seems immune to the evil that is his bed. Granted, he’s made a habit of sleeping on Steve as of late, though no one’s gonna hear any complaints from him about the snuggle fest that is their nights together—an increasingly frequent occurrence as the weeks roll by, one month turning into two and nearly into three when Bucky’s landlord pulls a fast one on him and forces an abrupt and clearly inconvenient move.
That’s when Steve opens his big fat mouth again and evidently steals Wade Wilson’s beloved dog. He really needs to stop jumping headfirst into this kind of thing.
◆
He doesn’t stop, of course, because Bucky loathes his new place with every fiber of his being and Steve gets the ingenious idea to just—solve that little problem for him.
“I mean, you stay here most nights anyway.” Steve shrugs like it’s no big deal, even as Bucky gapes at him from across the kitchen table. “We don’t have to,” he huffs, knowing full well he’s never pulled off nonchalant once in his pathetically long life, and sure enough can’t resist a mumbled, “but we can.”
“Steve.” Bucky shakes his head and pushes their dinner aside, deftly pushing half an eaten taco back in place when it teeters over the edge to undoubtedly entice Baby Spice away from her own food. Tugging at Steve’s fidgeting fingers, he flashes a comforting and much-too-knowing smile. “Don’t you think it’s too soon?”
“Who’s to say?” he manages to force out, an awkward half-laugh making it out and betraying his nerves.
Bucky seems to take his admittedly ludicrous offer to move in in stride, apparently finding it sweet when anyone else would run the other way. He’s still got that exasperated tilt to his lips when wagering a perfectly reasonable, “We only said I love you like two weeks ago. After I lied to you, no less.”
Steve can’t help the frown that takes over, or the insistent, “You didn’t lie to me,” that’s become a frequent argument in their relationship. Not that Bucky gives his disagreement any mind, tangling their feet beneath the table and kissing Steve’s knuckles in reply instead.
“Listen, that sounds—” Bucky lets loose a flicker of excitement as he bites down on what Steve knows would’ve been a beaming grin, and sighs as he rubs at the corners of his eyes. “It sounds real nice, Steve, and I honestly would love to.”
“But?” he prompts, only for Bucky to lose his train of thought, a faraway gaze trained on their still-entwined fingers. “Buck?”
Bucky looks up at him, lips pursed in indecision. “But nothing. I—I got nothin’.”
They’ve always moved fast, is the thing. Steve jumps headfirst like he’s always done, only to find Bucky right there with him every step of the way.
They’ve always moved fast, Steve tells himself later when he gets ahead of himself yet again.
◆
It’s two months in and he and Wade have settled into co-parenting Baby easy as anything. He’s got the little princess for the week while Wade’s on a work trip, and their first outing has somehow led to the engagement section of a jewelry store, endless rows of diamond rings staring up at him accusingly.
If anyone asks, he’s gonna say this is Baby’s fault.
As if reading his thoughts, she barks up at him from where she’s snuggled up in his arms, surely protesting the blame he’s laid at her feet. He sighs, petting her between her pigtails until she settles with a contented whine.
Steve’s not all that sure if fancy jewelry stores are usually this pet friendly, or if they’re as enamored as he is with Baby in a pink ensemble inspired by her namesake. Either way, he doesn’t want to cause a ruckus in a place like this.
“You think Buck would like one?” He glances at Baby as if expecting an answer, sighing when she does nothing more than smile toothily at him. Well, she probably doesn’t have the best grasp on marriage as a concept, much less the intricacies of a 5-month-old relationship, so he’s not missing out on much there.
It’s not too long before a saleswoman—Tess, her name tag reads—sniffs him out and sets up about half a dozen rings for inspection, each one looking more ostentatious than the last.
Tess barely blinks when he excuses himself and pulls out his phone, like she knows no matter how many friends he calls he’s too much of a sucker—and too lovesick, for that matter—to walk out the door with anything less than a solid 2 carat. She’s probably right.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Sam squawks when Steve gives him the lay of the land, which is about as he expected. “Steve, you’ve known this guy for a few months at most!”
“But—”
He can barely get a word in edgewise before Sam barrels on with a truly indignant, “I haven’t even met him!”
Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes and turning away from the counter to get a bit of privacy. “Well, if you ever come visit me then maybe you would.” Guilt swells in the pit of his stomach when Sam’s buildup to a full-on tirade halts at once, the silence crackling heavy across the endless miles between New York and Louisiana.
“Hey, I miss you too, you know.” Sam’s voice is warm as ever, though a poor substitute for his company; Steve tells him as much. “Well, I’m thinking I gotta go up there myself to keep you from scaring away the one guy stupid enough to shack up with Steve Rogers.”
Steve pouts, and he’d like to think Sam can tell despite the unforgivable distance. Baby must sense his distress because she noses up his chest to lick at his chin, which, to be fair, lifts his mood enough to earn the exact scritches behind those adorable ears she’d been looking for.
“Steve, stop cooing at the dog and listen to me,” Sam snaps, before pulling away from the phone to presumably mutter whatever disparaging remark he’s got about his foolish shenanigans.
Steve has to admit that the familiar indistinct sounds of Sam talking to himself is a balm he didn’t know he needed.
“You and Bucky are doing just fine,” Sam says when he returns, the dredged up hard-won patience leaking through. “Even after moving at the speed of fuckin’ light. I think it’s time to enjoy the honeymoon period, and live in it a little. You don’t need to rush.”
“Right. I hear you loud and clear.”
“Alright,” Sam sighs, sounding relieved he’s successfully talked Steve down. “I’ll call you again tomorrow and see how you’re feeling then, okay?”
Steve makes the appropriate hums and routine goodbyes, sending well wishes to Sarah and the kids. He vaguely keeps in mind to plan a trip soon, down to Louisiana with Bucky. If he misses Sam so much—and he does—then he can make the visit himself.
Once Sam hangs up, Steve returns to the counter, greeting Tess with a blinding smile. He picks out the runner-up he’d had his eye on, a gold band with a cluster of diamonds surrounding a bigger one in the center, and announces a decisive, “I’ll take this one.”
He makes Tess’s goddamn week.
◆
So they moved fast, is the thing, and Steve knows he’s jumping the gun.
But it’s Bucky. Steve wants to spend the rest of his life with him, and what do you know? There’s a perfectly acceptable societal convention to express his exact feelings.
They’re living in a Post-Blip world, after all, people leaving their jobs and spouses and hometowns at a second’s notice, and just as many getting hitched and tracking down old friends and estranged family members.
He’s far from immune from the so-called Post-Blip crisis, but he’s got a good feeling about this. Steve thinks he and Bucky will fare just fine.