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Steve was thinking. Bucky wandered about in the garden outside, and Steve was inside thinking. His hands were clasped together in his lap, his knee bouncing with creeping anxiety as it slithered around his brain. His gaze was hardened on nothing in particular, mind racing, thoughts tumbling around. And then—he saw Bucky pass by the windows, wide and bright, a portal to the outside. And if Steve opened them right now, he’d step out into a world of color; a world with Bucky in it.
His hair stuck slightly to his forehead as he worked, tanned skin glowing and honeyed in the early spring sun.
Okay. Alright.
Steve’s hands buzzed as the blood in his veins rushed and suddenly he’s standing up and dizzy and makes his way to the windows, unlatching and opening them, feeling the first breeze of spring rush past him.
Bucky startles a little but calms at the sight of him.
The wind carries the distinct scent of omega and Bucky’s sweet smelling lotion. His shorts are slightly dusted with soil and sweat drips from the side of his head and off from his chin. Steve falls in love all over again every day just at the sight of him.
His lips tremble, the question ready to roll off his tongue but he steadies himself. “Hey you,” is all he settles for, watching Bucky set down his tools and walk over.
“Hi,” Bucky mumbles, hoisting himself up on his toes ever so slightly to reach Steve. His eyes are bright and Steve feels his heart stutter in his chest. He feels like a kid again, back in Brooklyn, watching Bucky from afar. “It’s easier to use the door, y’know.” Bucky smiles.
Steve huffs playfully. “Maybe I just couldn’t wait to see you.”
Bucky shakes his head fondly.
His expression melts into something softer, brown eyes glossy in the midday sun. He leans forward, Steve catching him by his arm to steady him as their lips meet and the world around Steve disappears.
*
Every time Steve glances outside, he’s reminded of the past. He remembers Winnifred’s garden and reminisces on the way Bucky would eagerly run outside to be close to her, to thrust his fingers into the dirt, to feel the earth around him. Bucky’s affinity for all things gentle and fragile in such a harsh world only pulled Steve closer to him. He’s tough, always has been, but there’s so much kindness within him, Steve realized long ago. And even after all the heartbreak, the trauma of losing and finding him all over again… that kindness never left.
So, how could Steve not want to ask Bucky to marry him?
He remembers the hushed promises in Sarah’s attic. While Steve shivered, still growing into his designation, Bucky combs his fingers through fine wisps of blonde hair, murmuring his devotion.
He swallows, trying to blink away the tears.
The box is hidden away in his sock drawer and when Sam was told about it, he laughed heartily and yeah… it was silly and cliche wasn’t it?
Bucky is doing laundry.
Steve stands just outside the laundry room, unmoving, watching Bucky’s hands move languidly. He’s always been enamored with him—with the way flesh and metal seamlessly flow together as one. He’s stalling and he knows it. God, he’s terrified.
“Do you need something?” Bucky’s words are calm, but there’s a slight edge to it and Steve mentally curses himself. He knows Bucky doesn’t like being stared at. Fuck.
Steve takes one step, then another. And then Bucky is slipping past him to go into the kitchen.
Steve turns, following after him like a desperate puppy.
Bucky’s scent lets him know he’s nervous. And Steve decides to stop messing around.
“Buck.”
“Steve.”
He swallows. And sighs.
“I’ve known you for, what, a hundred years? And through all that time, I can exactly pinpoint the moment I fell in love with you—it was when we were children, practically still babies. I watched you grow alongside me and watched you grow fond of me even as I got sick.”
Bucky slowly turns to look at him.
Steve continues. “It still feels like I’m dreaming sometimes. I thought… for a time I thought I lost you forever after you fell and when I found you again, oh God, I can’t explain to you how I felt, Buck. I’m over the moon about you, I’m crazy, I’m smitten, whatever the hell they say, that’s how I feel about you. God, this speech is so stupid.” he laughs, but it’s not bitter. His skin buzzes and he realizes he’s trembling.
Bucky’s eyes are so wide, Steve is beginning to worry as he shakily, and slowly, gets down to his knee, pulling the velvet box from his pocket and opening it, revealing the ring with Bucky’s birthstone right in the middle.
“Bucky—Jules Barnes. Will you…” Steve huffs, trying to counter the anxiety that consumes him. “Will you marry me?”
The glass Bucky holds slips from his fingers and shatters as it hits the wooden floors.
And then he’s running away.
Steve sets the box on the counter and quickly goes after him. “Bucky? Wait!”
The house is small, as per Bucky’s request, so it’s easy to catch up with him in their spare bedroom.
His heart hammers against his ribcage and he’s so scared.
And then Bucky is running towards him and jumping into his arms and yelling and squealing with delight and sobbing.
“You asshole! Of course I’ll marry you!” Bucky squeals, tears rushing down his cheeks.
Steve realizes he’s crying too, spinning around with Bucky in his arms.
He slides the ring on to Bucky’s finger, the aquamarine stone glinting in the artificial light of the kitchen.
*
Steve opens his hand, letting Bucky take it, helping him step into the gazebo that’s decorated in long winding vines with flowers that bloom and assorted fairy lights. No one is in sight but the two of them. The sun sets over the horizon, shining down on Bucky in his lace wedding dress, veil trailing behind him. He’s let his hair grow out more, natural curls bracketing his face.
Steve pulls him closer, fingers interlaced, their foreheads pressed together sweetly.