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“Boat shoes. Seriously. You might as well have a cardigan wrapped around your shoulders. And lobster-print shorts.” Sam raised his hand from the arm of his patio chair to gesture at Bucky’s t-shirt, which was black, and his pants, which were also black.
“They slip on. You try to tie your shoes one-handed,” Bucky mumbled. They also slipped off. He’d be doomed in a fight. He tried to remind himself that he’d be doomed in a fight regardless, so his choice in shoes didn’t matter all that much.
“Excuses. Should probably start calling you Chad,” Sam said, affecting a pompous mid-Atlantic accent on the name.
Bucky flipped him off, earning a snort from Wanda, who was occupied with her phone a few chairs away.
“Am I gonna have to separate the two of you? Do you have to fight while I’m trying to enjoy this beautiful day?” Steve was in fact not enjoying the beautiful day; he had his nose buried in a pile of summaries they were supposed to familiarize themselves with prior to the meeting, and was scowling at them like they’d kicked his dog.
Sam scoffed. “Stop being such a cranky old man, old man.”
Bucky laughed. “Not likely to happen. He was a cranky young man, a cranky kid, probably a cranky baby. No reason for him to change now.”
Steve shot him an unimpressed glare. Bucky batted his eyelashes and Steve flushed, glowering.
“Do you two only get along when you’re making fun of me?”
Sam said “Yes,” while Bucky shook his head no.
Sam and Bucky bumped forearms, and Steve cracked a smile despite himself.
They were gathered on the sunniest balcony in the palace for a meeting about proposed amendments to the Accords that Wakanda was planning on bringing to the UN.
Wakanda had been pulled into the negotiations for the Sokovia Accords late, almost a year after they had been initially proposed and still sore from the loss of their countrymen in Laos. T’challa’d had no idea that the Avengers themselves hadn’t been “copied onto the email,” as it were.
The king had some ground to make up, considering that he both signed and immediately disregarded the document, and that he was also an enhanced vigilante by UN standards. That definitely brought his neutrality into question.
Whispers that he had been harboring the escaped raft prison fugitives were spreading as well, though it would take something significant to get the international community to infringe upon Wakandan sovereignty to collect the former Avengers and Bucky.
Wanda was texting T’challa, who was caught up but promised to join them shortly. The delay gave them some time to shoot the shit and bask in the sun, which had come out for the first time in nine days.
It was good to be outside, Bucky was a little guilty to admit. He should have refused to leave the secure sections of the palace until he was truly no longer a threat, but the labs and his own monitored room got lonely, and Tony’s BARF therapy was working better than anyone expected, despite some psychological trauma snags.
Bucky had no idea how Tony had patched things over with Wanda, but she’d been collaborating with him and providing insight into memory manipulation and tips for where to prod. She had a talent for suggesting routes that were most effective and least traumatic for Bucky. She flatly refused to poke around in his brain with her powers, though, and Bucky was glad of it.
The fewer people who had intimate knowledge of Bucky’s experiences, the better. Not even Steve was allowed into his sessions, and even though his memories weren’t projected to his observers as was possible with the technology, Tony hadn’t been able to stomach sitting in after the first trial.
Steve had told Bucky that Tony had been held and tortured in a cave for weeks before he’d been able escape by building his first suit. That had been almost ten years ago. Bucky felt a little sick that he was probably a living reminder of most of the bad in Tony’s life.
He hadn’t actually seen Tony in-person since his first session a month ago. Tony instead teleconferenced with the other scientists in the lab and Wanda, trading suggestions or troubleshooting. Bucky was okay with that.
It was weird enough between Bucky and Tony, besides the grown-child-of-my-sometimes-hate-fling part, and the killed-his-parents part. Tony was woodenly courteous with him in a way that struck Bucky as against-character-type. Bucky never knew what to say to him other than that he was sorry, which just sort of made Tony pull a face. He still wanted to help, though, which Bucky appreciated.
Bucky gave up on their dynamic being anything other than awkward after Tony’d seen him curled up in a ball weeping, babbling about how he deserved to die after revisiting his memories kicked him on his ass in a way he hadn’t been prepared for. He couldn’t make eye contact with the lab techs anymore, either. It was just too embarrassing. He had to keep at it though, because it was working.
The code words still left him in a heavily dissociative state, and handily ruined his day when he was triggered, but he could now break through the haze with significant effort. Years of conditioning were starting to unravel after barely a month of work and support from friends. He wasn’t sure whether to feel proud of that or ashamed. Mostly he was just relieved. And utterly, completely exhausted. Cryo had been the easier remedy, and he still longed for it sometimes.
Despite that… things had been good.
As grueling and horrible everything with his deprogramming was, what he had with Steve was good. As infuriatingly cagey and weary and righteous Steve got, and as mute and distant as Bucky could be, it was still good. Even though they had next to no time alone together (at Bucky’s own insistence), it was good. And it was getting better, making new friends, relearning each other, and exploring facets of their relationship left untouched before. The two of them couldn’t kiss each other better, but at least now they could try.
Bucky realized with mild alarm that he’d been staring at Steve for some time, and Steve was periodically glancing at him with a raised eyebrow, thoroughly distracted from his papers.
“What?” demanded Steve. It was adorable. So what if he’d gotten caught staring?
Bucky just smiled slowly, biting his lip to keep from laughing. He tapped the side of Steve’s shoe with his toe and nearly snorted when Steve went all bashful. But pissed that he was bashful. Adorable.
He had to stop when Sam started flicking paper footballs at his face. He was about to retaliate (somehow) when T’challa appeared at the entry to the rooftop deck.
“Hey, Mittens, where have you been?” Sam called, sparing himself (for now).
“Sorry I am late. I had to pick up a friend.”
“Who’s that?” asked Steve, turning in his chair.
“Hey, grandpa. What are you doing outside the home?” Natasha Romanov appeared from behind T’challa, smiling innocently.
Bucky thought he saw a flash of surprise break through Natasha’s butter-wouldn’t-melt expression as Steve barreled towards her and tugged her off her feet into a swinging hug, which she returned immediately. She was grinning openly when Steve let her slip back down to the ground.
Steve cleared his throat and stepped back, a little flustered by his own reaction. Bucky could’ve swooned.
“What are you doing here? It’s been months! How have you been?”
“Cold. Been laying low in rural Sweden.” The fact that she told them where she’d been meant she wouldn’t be there any longer. She turned her attention to Bucky. He waved awkwardly.
“Good to finally meet you under happy circumstances. I’m Natasha.”
Bucky nodded.
Sam stepped forward to give Natasha a hug as well. “They are happy circumstances, right? No giant cicadas attacking Paris? No shadow organizations infiltrating public libraries?”
“No PR disasters?” Wanda chimed in, tapping Sam on the shoulder to get her turn to hug Natasha.
“Not as far as I know. My mission today is to deliver wedding invitations.”
Wanda pulled away and raised her eyebrows. “Whose?”
“Tony and Pepper’s. And it’s happening soon.”
“How soon are we talking?” asked Steve.
“Day after tomorrow, in international waters. Hopefully, under the flag of Wakanda?” Natasha quirked an eyebrow at T’challa, who shrugged and grinned.
“That’s pretty sudden, isn’t it?” asked Steve.
They’d just heard from Tony last week for the latest round of tune-ups for the BARF headset, and he hadn’t mentioned anything of this magnitude.
“In the scope of planning a wedding in three days, yes. In the scope of their relationship, don’t think so.”
“True.” Steve smiled and ducked his head.
“Who else is on the guest list?” asked Sam.
“Standard crew minus a few. I found Banner. He’s not coming, but he sent a gift, Vision is on some sort of walkabout, and Clint broke his leg fixing his roof. Now I just have to figure out how to get ahold of Thor.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. “You know how to get ahold of Thor. He told us how after DC.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to do it.”
“Fine. HEY HEIMDALL,” Steve shouted to the air, making Bucky and Sam jump. “IS THOR FREE TO ATTEND A WEDDING THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW? I’M SURE YOU ARE ALSO WELCOME.”
A clap of thunder sent clouds of birds fleeing from the trees below them, and a giant shiny blond stood at the opposite side of the deck, the floor beneath him smoking a little bit.
“Friends! Good to see you once more. I hear there is to be a union! Heimdall bade me relay that he was amused by your invitation, Steve.”
“Tony and Pepper are getting married.”
“Excellent.” Thor crossed to T’challa and clasped his hand, murmuring “An honor,” and turned to do the same with Bucky. Bucky shook his hand dumbly. He was reassured to see that T’challa was just as thunderstruck (ha) as he was. Bucky caught his eye and must have made a face because T’challa sniggered a little bit, eyebrows still stuck near his hairline.
Natasha handed Thor an envelope primly, and began distributing similar ones to the rest of them. Bucky was surprised that there was one for him as well. Yep. That was his name written on there.
“Okay. What the hell does ‘resort casual’ mean?” asked Sam.
“It means goddamn boat shoes, fucker,” Bucky muttered, triumphant.
This was going to be a weird wedding. It was secret, last minute, and in the middle of nowhere to avoid discovery by the international community. Bucky was so nervous he didn’t even make fun of Sam’s plaid shorts.
He had almost hoped he wouldn’t be allowed to go, but T’challa, Steve, and even Sam and Wanda had insisted he join them, citing his progress and the fact that he hadn’t left the palace since he’d been flown in from Siberia. He privately begged T’challa to give him something to knock him out in case Hydra showed up, but T’challa shut that down right away. “And make yourself easier for them to carry off?” Damn it.
Bucky was deadly still during the ride to the wedding boat with Steve’s friends. It was his version of fidgeting. Steve squeezed his shoulder and reassured him that it would be fine, that he’d watch his six. Bucky saw Sam starting to nod in agreement before stopping himself, checking his phone with a look of disinterest.
He willed himself to slouch a little in his seat and pressed his thigh up against Steve’s. Steve took his hand and pulled it into his lap. It was so goddamn sweet it made Bucky lose count of the heartbeats he’d been trying to tally in order to slow his pulse. The fucker.
When they reached the site of the ceremony, they found that it was on some sort of yacht kitted out with rope-light palm trees and gold balloons. When they reached the deck, Bucky could smell charcoal, and there were two pink and aquamarine plastic kiddie pools in a corner filled to their brims with ice and expensive booze. The wedding guests were made up of (on the bride’s side) people who must have been Pepper’s immediate family and friends, and (on the groom’s side) superheroes, most of whom were fugitives.
It hit Bucky for the second time that day that he had killed the entirety of the groom’s family. Suddenly he wasn’t sure why he was there. He stumbled a little bit stepping onto the deck.
Steve steadied him with a hand on his lower back and Sam ruffled his hair as he passed, making it a complete mess. Natasha helpfully slipped him a hair tie from the pocket of her sea-green jumpsuit, though he couldn’t figure out how he was supposed to make a pony tail with one hand.
Bucky turned to Steve. “Do you think I can swim back to the capital from here?”
“Considering it’s landlocked, probably not. We could try it though, if you want to leave.” Steve looked at him earnestly, flexing his hand on Bucky’s waist, then peeking over the rail. “Or we could take the jet and pick the others up later. Your call.”
He guessed that it would make more of a scene to jump off of the boat or fly away than to sit through an awkward wedding reception. He’d dealt with worse than being unpopular at a get-together.
Bucky sighed. “Shouldn’t be bad enough to warrant that, I guess.”
Steve smiled apologetically. “Tony throws a good party. Just hop into the ocean if you’re ready to leave, though. I’ll take that as a sign.”
Bucky snorted, but his feet unstuck from the deck and he moved towards the rest of the wedding guests, bolder with Steve at his back.
Bucky took in his surroundings, assessing threat levels, but everyone seemed relaxed, if a little unsure how to react to the other guests. There were only about twenty people in attendance and they seated themselves facing the bow after some short, casual introductions.
Bucky’s heart climbed into his throat as Nick Fury appeared from the interior of the boat, and seated himself next to Natasha in the row ahead of him and Steve. This made three people at this wedding that he’d shot. All sitting within five feet of him.
Director Fury twisted in his seat to look at him and Steve. “Captain Rogers. Mr. Barnes.”
“Glad you were able to make it, Nick. This is Bucky.”
“Pleasure to meet you. Don’t ever shoot me again.” Fury was apparently done with them as he turned back around in his seat and settled in to watch the ceremony. Natasha turned to wink at him.
“Won’t,” Bucky rasped, a little amazed at the tolerance levels of Steve’s associates.
“Sorry,” Steve whispered. “He’s been in deep cover for the last two years. Had no idea he was gonna be here. Woulda warned you otherwise, buddy.”
Bucky’s sarcastic response was preempted by the swell of the processional music. Rhodey appeared soon after, arm in arm with a strawberry blonde who Bucky guessed was Pepper’s maid of honor, and leaning on a cane that matched his Polo shirt. Tony followed, dressed in sunglasses and a garish collared shirt covered in hot-rod flames.
The bride entered with her parents, wearing a short eyelet cotton dress and aviators.
The ceremony was short, less than ten minutes by Bucky’s estimation, but it was heartfelt. Since the party was (technically, if not legally) sailing under the Wakandan flag, it was only appropriate that T’challa officiate. T’challa had confessed to Bucky once that this was his favorite implied power as king, and he was having the time of his life having the couple recite their vows rapid-fire.
“All parties consent to this union? Well, good! I now pronounce you Mrs. and Mr. Virginia Potts! Now kiss!”
Tony moved Pepper’s sunglasses to the top of her head in an imitation of lifting a veil, then dipped her dramatically to hoots and applause from the wedding guests. The two then stomped on a cloth bag roughly the size and shape of a wine glass.
“Mazel tov,” Bucky called, surprising both himself and Tony, who spun around to raise his eyebrows at him. It got him a beaming smile from the bride, though.
Steve and Bucky hung back as the rest of the guests crowded around the newlyweds to offer congratulations and hugs. Bucky could sense Steve was almost as hesitant to join in as he was. He slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders. Steve returned the gesture, and bumped his temple to Bucky’s, smiling a little ruefully.
It was a quick matter of moving the seats to the sides before the new couple started their first dance. They watched the two of them while Rhodey quietly told the story of Pepper and Tony’s engagement to the other Avengers and T’challa.
“We were eating a goddamn bucket of chicken at a picnic table in a state park. They did this whole ‘neutral ground, super casual’ dating thing after taking their break. It was cute.” Rhodey smiled. “And we were talking about Tony’s dad and his legacy, you know? Whole thing last month kinda threw him into an identity crisis. Pepper too, in a way. They’d been discussing a rebrand of Stark Industries, and out of nowhere Tony was like, ‘Pepper, would you let me take your name?’
Steve raised his eyebrows and Natasha snorted, though she already knew the story from Pepper.
“Yeah. And she just looked at him like he was a nutjob and was like, ‘Is this a hypothetical or are you actually asking me to marry you?’”
“God.”
“I know, right? Tony didn’t even realize what that sounded like. But he decided that, yes, he was definitely asking her to marry him. They took me to the mall with them to pick out rings.”
“What, immediately?” Wanda asked.
“Yep. Tony kinda gave her an out, was like, ‘I mean, we can talk about it?’ But she was like, ‘No. Let’s do this.’ I think she’s only a little less impulsive than he is.”
“Here comes the happy couple,” boomed Thor, startling basically everyone who’d been listening to Rhodey’s story. Guy was loud.
Bucky stood up a little straighter, tugging down his shirt.
Pepper and Tony approached, giving hugs to the group and thanking T’challa emphatically for officiating. Bucky once again hung back behind Steve, who shook Tony’s hand and kissed Pepper on the cheek, murmuring congratulations.
“Glad you all could make it. Barnes, I don’t think you’ve met Pepper?”
Bucky shook his head and tried for a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It’s good to meet you as well.”
He happily avoided any more direct interaction with the newlyweds, as the Avengers leapt into polite conversation about recent events; safe topics, mostly banal; and catching up with each other’s lives. He let out a breath as Tony and Pepper moved on to mingle with the next knot of partygoers.
As the sun started to go down, the party settled into full swing.
Sam took up chatting with Pepper’s step mother, who was fixing hot dogs and ears of corn on a giant charcoal grill across the deck. Bucky saw Director Fury looking content in various corners during the night, and twice on the dance floor, once with Pepper, then again later with Natasha. Thor danced enthusiastically with every person in Pepper’s family in turn, and with Wanda, who had spent most of the night talking with Pepper’s younger sister, who was also studying neuropsychology.
Tony was slow dancing with Rhodey, who had gotten emotional after drinking a few of the ridiculous half-liter Wakandan beers T’challa had brought with him.
Bucky nursed one of his own in companionable silence with Steve and T’challa when Natasha wound her way to them.
“Mind if I borrow Steve?” Bucky shook his head and nudged Steve forward. Steve took a step and immediately backtracked to press a kiss to Bucky’s jaw. He left a dumbstruck Bucky for the dancefloor with Natasha, who was grinning wickedly.
Bucky heard an offended “What?” from Steve, followed by “Nothing,” by Natasha before their conversation was drowned out by distance and music.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” T’challa’s voice broke through his small reverie. He realized he’d been smiling like a love-struck fool. He was one, he guessed.
“It’s a nice wedding. Good job on the ceremony, by the way.”
“Think I missed my calling?”
Bucky snorted. “I’d say you’re doing pretty well at your day-job, too. Day jobs? King and warrior, right?”
“We’ll see. Sometimes I feel I’m not right for it. Shoes to fill, as you would say.”
“You’ve got it covered. You seem like an adaptable kind of guy.”
“I’m glad you’re confident.”
“We all are.” It was the truth. T’challa was the type of leader he would have been sent to assassinate, just for his sheer potential for greatness, though Bucky wasn’t about to tell him that. He hated that that was now the context in which he viewed goodness in people: on a scale of Hydra, to on-Hydra’s-hitlist.
“Thank you, friend.” T’challa smiled at the deck, then clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “I’m going to go and see about cake.”
Bucky smiled and nodded, returning his attention to the dance floor. Pepper had cut in between Tony and Rhodey, but Steve and Natasha were still having a low conversation.
Tony skirted the edge of the dance floor to stand by him. Bucky nodded a greeting and returned to watching the other guests from his corner, trying to maintain his casual bearing.
“I can thank you a little for this, you know,” Tony remarked, out of nowhere.
Bucky stiffened. He wasn’t able to respond, but Tony continued on his own.
“I didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. Not after what I found out about his work. Not after I saw what it did to you. And to him, eventually. Found a work-around for it, though. Took me long enough. Not a Stark anymore.” Tony wiggled his left ring finger, displaying his new wedding band.
Bucky swallowed, cleared his throat. “Interesting use of lateral thinking.”
“So, you gonna invite me to yours?”
“What?”
“The wedding.” Tony jerked a thumb toward Steve. Bucky followed the gesture and lost his breath a little at the way Steve’s shirt pulled across his back. “You guys are practically married already. C’mon, we can reuse the decorations.”
“I—um.”
“See, Barnes, this is me teasing you, in case you didn’t catch that. A first attempt at making this not weird. Should pop another bottle of champagne. New beginnings.”
“Ah. Got it.” Bucky sighed internally. He was doomed to be surrounded by assholes, wasn’t he?
“So, returning to the previous topic, have you two set a date yet? Gotta make sure my calendar is clear.”
“It’s been a month.”
“Plus or minus ninety years. You two aren’t getting any younger.”
Bucky couldn’t let Tony see him blush, he couldn’t.
“Not talking about this.”
“Aw, you’re blushing.” Damn it.
“Drop it or I’ll tell you all about what your dad was like in bed.” That would be as much of a punishment for Bucky as it would be for Tony, but he was willing to go through it to move on from this topic of discussion.
It just seemed to startle a laugh out of Tony. “God. Does Steve know you have such a sick sense of humor? He’d be clutching his pearls. Your wedding gift just got downgraded, Sparky. Hope you like patriotic table linens.”
“You know, when I said I would tell you about what your dad was like in bed, I misspoke. There were no beds. I should have said: what your dad was like against-wall.”
Tony shuddered. “Okay. Yeek. Party foul, Barnes.”
“You started it.”
Tony grinned, looking out at the wedding guests, his friends and family. Bucky would have felt bad for bringing up a sore subject, but he didn’t think anything would be able to dim Tony’s mood today. He knew the feeling, he realized, glancing again at Steve, who was rolling his eyes dramatically at something Natasha had said. God, he loved him.
“Go hang out with your wife. I think she’s really into you.” Bucky smiled as he saw Tony’s eyes catch on Pepper, who was cheek-to-cheek with Rhodey on the dance floor. Bucky could see the goddamn hearts in them.
Tony pushed off of the railing he’d been leaning against. “Twist my arm. Go hang out with your… beau. He’s stupid for you.”
The slow song ended, transitioning into something faster, and a few of the couples on the dance floor broke apart. Steve was already looking at him when he glanced back over. Steve did his best impression of a beet, and Natasha punched him playfully in the arm before shoving him towards Bucky.
Yeah, he loves me, Bucky thought, setting down his empty beer and moving from his safe corner to meet Steve halfway.