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Bucky’s thumb hovers over the send button, second-guessing himself for a moment, before pressing it on an exhale. He watches the icons change from delivered to read, and holds his breath for a full minute while, like every time before, nothing happens. No signs of typing, no automatic replies even. Jason’s left him on read. Again.
Sighing, Bucky sets his phone down and makes his way to the kitchenette to pour another cup of coffee. It doesn’t really surprise him that Jason hasn’t returned any of his texts since the day they learned they’re soulmates. Jason is by far the most stand-offish of the Bats, and he’d admitted as much to Bucky.
“I barely return Dickhead’s messages, and even then it’s probably related to a case,” he’d warned.
But it still hurts, that Bucky’s weekly just checking in, hope everything’s good texts go unacknowledged.
He should probably stop sending them. He’s probably reached some sort of limit on unreplied texts, anyway.
The buzzing of an incoming call has Bucky fumbling his phone. He tries not to be disappointed that it's Dick, not Jason, even as he accepts the call.
“My idiot brother's still ghosting you?” It doesn't sound like a question so much as a statement of fact.
Bucky huffs in answer. “And hello to you, too.” He takes a sip of his coffee, grimacing when he realizes he hasn't added any creamer. “I'd ask how you know, but I'm not sure if I really want to hear the answer.”
“Well I'm pretty sure Tim hacked all our phones long ago and knows everything we do on them. But I just saw Jason pull out his phone, smile, then go through about four stages of panic before storming off. I figured it was you.”
“I'm sure you mean to be helpful, but that really isn't.” Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “And I'm really not sure why this is phone-call worthy.”
Dick's sigh is audible. “You’re right, it isn't, and that's not why I'm calling. I just wanted to let you know, you’ll be receiving an invitation in the mail. And it's genuine, we absolutely want you here.”
“What's it for?”
“A birthday party.”
Bucky stares at the four identical envelopes in his hand. Well, not completely identical; the handwriting is different on each one. All of them have Wayne Manor as the return address, and three of them are postmarked from Gotham City. The one with Dick's familiar scrawl was mailed from Bludhaven.
Bemused, Bucky opens that one first. The invitation is, as Dick told him, for a birthday party. He's surprised to see it's for Alfred’s birthday; he wouldn't think he warrants an invitation to what must be a family event. The party is next month and the RSVP specifies regrets only.
Well, Bucky has a bit of time to decide. He tacks the invitation to his fridge with one of the silly novelty magnets Tony brought back from Hawaii. He's still not sure if he owes Tony & Emma a wedding gift.
And he's definitely unsure what kind of birthday gift he's supposed to give Alfred Pennyworth. He'll need to ask Dick.
He's about to text his friend when his eye catches on the remaining stack of envelopes. Why would he receive four copies of the same invitation?
The first envelope is addressed in perfect copperplate handwriting; he suspects this one is from Pennyworth himself. Bucky slits the envelope and pulls out the invitation, which is exactly like the one Dick sent, save the addition of a note at the bottom: Jason's favorite author is Jane Austen.
“What is that about?” Bucky wonders aloud.
Curiosity piqued, he opens the next one - the address printed legibly but otherwise undistinguished. Again, there's a handwritten note at the bottom: Just wanted to make sure you received this, we really want you to join us. -Tim.
The final envelope has his full name written in elegant script. He realizes upon opening this one, that this is the invitation from Alfred; the handwritten note tells him that this is really a birthday party for Jason, that no gifts are necessary, and that he is always welcome at the manor.
“This is weird,” Bucky tells Alpine, who is watching him from her perch on the back of the couch. Alpine responds with an inquisitive “mrrp?”
“Yeah, okay, I think we gotta call Dick again.” Bucky pulls up Dick's contact info and hits the call button.
“Hey Bucky! Did you get the invite?”
“I got four of them,” Bucky tells him. “One from you, one from Tim, one from Alfred, and…who has perfect penmanship and does Jason really read Jane Austen?”
“Oh, shit. That sounds like Cass. I guess we all wanted to make sure you were invited.”
Warmth floods Bucky's chest. Given how he and Jason discovered their soul bond, he didn't think he would have so much support from the Wayne family.
“So who's birthday is it, Alfred's or Jason's?”
“Both, they share the same day. Jason would never show up for his own party, but he won't skip Alfred's. So that's why the subterfuge.”
Bucky can't help smiling at this. “Are you telling me he hasn't figured it out?”
“Years ago, but he still won't decline an invitation from Alfred. Hence the literal engraved invitations. So, are you gonna be there?”
Jason sits on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. It’s definitely one of the perks to visiting the manor, especially in summer. Gotham City in August is sweltering, even with (or perhaps because of) the constant gloom.
He tilts his head back, staring up at the blue sky. Somehow, his birthday is bright and sunny, not a cloud in sight. Tomorrow will probably be back to the usual overcast, but today he can let himself enjoy the sunshine.
“Jay! Jay! Will you sing for me?”
Jason’s head snaps down, his sunglasses falling onto his nose from their perch on his head. He peers over them at Lian, who is floating across the pool on an inflatable cupcake.
“Lian, sweetheart, it’s Jason’s birthday. We’re supposed to sing for him, not the other way around,” Roy tells her from his seat next to Jason.
“But you can’t sing, Daddy,” Lian pouts.
Jason laughs as Roy grimaces. “You’re not wrong, Lian. What do you want me to sing?”
Lian nearly falls off the float in her excitement. “Can you sing my lullaby song?”
“Are you sure? It’s still daytime.” Jason casts a quick glance at the house, considering whether to retrieve his guitar. He doesn’t remember the last time he played it; it’ll need to be tuned. But he has a hard time saying no to Lian, and it’s just the three of them here. Everyone else is playing baseball on the other side of the garden.
“But we’re going home tonight and you won’t be able to sing it then.”
“You’ve got a point there.” Mind made up, Jason leaps to his feet. “I’ve gotta grab something from inside, then I’ll sing, okay?”
Lian does fall off the float this time.
It takes Jason far longer than he’d like to admit to tune his guitar, but he manages not to attract attention from the ball game. He smiles at Lian, who has climbed out of the pool and is sitting in her father’s lap, wrapped in a brightly colored beach towel.
“Okay, if I sing you a lullaby now, it means you have to go to sleep without argument tonight. Is that a deal?” At Lian’s solemn nod, Jason starts strumming. “Sounds good.
“There’s a monster that lives ‘neath your bed…”
Bucky arrives later than he’d intended. There had been a wreck on the freeway, and even with his motorcycle he’d been delayed. He parks his bike next to Dick’s in front of Wayne Manor and makes his way around to the back garden. When he’d called to explain his tardiness, Dick had assured him the party would still be going, and everyone would be outside.
He hears the notes of a guitar and someone singing as he rounds the corner, and follows it to find Jason sitting near the swimming pool, with a guitar in his hands, singing about a…demon slayer? He pauses to listen, not wanting to reveal himself and ruin the song.
“Now it’s time to close your tired eyes
There are devils to slay and dragons to ride
If they see you coming, hell they better hide
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight…”
Bucky listens to the rest of the song, glancing down at the gift wrapped book in his hands, wondering for the hundredth time today whether he should even be here. Except…except that he wants to be here, and so do at least three of Jason’s siblings and his grandfather. So maybe he should stop hiding behind an ornamental bush and just join the party.
He senses movement behind him and tenses before forcing himself to relax. It’s a birthday party. At Wayne Manor. There’s no one here who isn’t supposed to be.
“He used to sing that to Damian, when he was little,” a woman’s voice says softly beside him.
Bucky glances to his side. “I didn’t know he sang at all,” Bucky replies just as softly.
“He usually doesn’t, but today is a special occasion. You’re James Barnes,” the woman says archly.
Bucky ducks his head to hide his smile. “And you’re Talia al Ghul. Nice to meet you.”
Talia hums and turns back to watch Jason playing. “You should know that I am very protective of my sons.”
“Most mothers are,” Bucky agrees, resigning himself to yet another shovel talk. The first had been two days after their bodyswap, when Batman had cornered him in an alley behind the bodega he frequents. Robin and Red Robin had broken into his apartment two weeks ago, an impressive feat given his security system. He’d listened to their threats before handing Robin the box of cat treats and introducing them to Alpine.
“To our family, soulmates are a rather complicated topic,” Talia tells him. “I’m afraid Bruce and I did not set a very good example.”
Well, that certainly explains why there’s never been a mention of Bruce Wayne’s soulmate in the society pages. And also why there’s no record of one in any of the Justice League’s or the Avenger’s databases.
“Ummi, I can hear you,” Jason calls out.
Talia smiles wryly, holding up her hands and stepping around the rose bush. “All right, I just wanted to meet him before announcing myself.” She strides over to him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Happy birthday, habibi.”
Bucky follows Talia at first, but stays back while she greets Jason. He doesn’t want to interrupt but he also doesn’t want to hide anymore. He grips the gift he brought tighter, almost tearing the paper, before forcing himself to relax.
Jason looks up at him then, and Bucky catches the way his eyes widen a split-second before he looks down again. When Jason looks up again, his expression is carefully polite, a small smile on his lips. Bucky offers a smile of his own, feeling as nervous as Jason must.
“Happy birthday,” Bucky says, holding out the gift.
Jason blinks, reaching out cautiously to take it. He sets the guitar to the side, looking up at Bucky with an indecipherable expression. “Thanks.” He clears his throat. “And, thanks for coming. It’s, um. It’s-”
“Hey, Jason? I’m gonna take Lian inside to get changed,” the redheaded man sitting next to Jason says, pushing himself up to stand before leading the little girl - presumably Lian - inside the house.
Talia pats Jason on the shoulder. “I am going to see Damian. I take it he is playing baseball with the others?” At Jason’s wordless nod, she smiles and makes her way towards the field.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m here,” Bucky says. “Alfred sent me an invitation, and-”
“No! I mean, yes, it’s okay that you’re here. Better than okay, really.” Jason takes a breath. “I just…I wasn’t sure you’d want to come.”
Bucky blinks. “It’s your birthday. Of course I want to be here. I just wasn’t sure if you’d want me crashing your party.”
Jason snorts. “You’re not crashing; Alfred invited you.”
“Yeah, but-” Bucky sighs, dragging his hand down his face. “Open your gift, Jason.”
“Bossy. Okay, fine.” Jason slits the tape carefully, keeping the paper intact as he unwraps the book. His eyes snap up to Bucky’s.
“A little bird told me you like Austen, but she only wrote six books and I’m guessing you probably have copies of all of them. So I figured I’d share one of my own favorites, although I’m realizing just now that you’ve probably read it, so-”
“Bucky,” Jason interrupts him. “It’s perfect. I love The Hobbit.” He traces the blue lettering on the cover, then opens it to the title page. “Where did you find this?”
Bucky rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s, um. It was mine. I lifted it from the Camp Lehigh library when I was maybe thirteen or fourteen.”
“You…that’s amazing,” Jason laughs. “How did it survive?”
“I’m not actually sure. It was mixed in with Cap’s things, and he gave it back to me a few years ago.” It was an absolute miracle that anything had survived, let alone made its way back to Steve’s possession, then Bucky’s. “Anyway, I’m glad you like it.”
They both fall silent, watching each other. Jason’s fingers trace the spine of the book, while Bucky tries to find words that won’t sound ridiculous. A bead of sweat makes its way down his neck, and he realizes he’s still wearing his jacket. He shrugs it off, folding it over his arm, and Jason stands from his chair.
“Come on, we have an actual coat closet for that,” Jason offers, picking up his guitar and gesturing towards the house. “It’s not like you’re planning to sneak out of here before dinner, right?”
Bucky shakes his head and follows Jason to the door. “Only if you didn’t want me here.”
Jason pulls the door open, but turns and stops Bucky with a hand to his chest. “I already said, I’m glad you’re here. I meant it.”
Bucky holds his gaze for a moment, then nods. “Okay. Then I’m not sneaking out of here.”