fic: last night, while I slept, they rearranged the streets (Avengers; Steve/Bucky; pg)
last night, while I slept, they rearranged the streets
Avengers; Steve/Bucky; pg; 3,130 words
It's like the oblivious leading the clueless.
Everyone thinks they're dating, for
angelgazing. Title from Tom McRae. Thanks to
laurificus and
snacky for help when I needed it.
~*~
last night, while I slept, they rearranged the streets
1.
It's only a couple days after Bucky moves into Steve's suite at the tower that Pepper visits with some real estate listings.
"Steve hasn't really settled in any the places he's lived since we've known him," she says, tapping at a StarkPad, "but now that you're back we thought you two might like a place of your own." Her smile is warm and unwavering, and Bucky finds himself unexpectedly smiling back.
If it were Stark, Bucky would say something cutting about having been kicked out of better places in his time, but he can understand why Pepper wouldn't feel safe with him in her home, so he just nods and lets her walk him through computer simulations of various apartments in Brooklyn. "We thought you might like a familiar neighborhood," is how she puts it. "I'll leave this with you," she says when she's done, tapping the tablet, which has gone dark, "so you and Steve can discuss what you want to do."
"Thanks," he answers, equal parts charmed and bemused. He can see why she runs both Stark and Stark Industries, and why the other Avengers often defer to her, Steve included.
"We just want you to be happy," she says and gives him a peck on the cheek (he pretends not to be flustered) before she's off to do whatever it is CEOs do these days.
When Steve comes home, he's just as bemused as Bucky by the whole thing, but he sits down on the couch, arm and thigh pressed warmly against Bucky's, and listens attentively when Bucky repeats the presentation. With Jarvis's help, they suddenly have a real estate broker and appointments to see three apartments in the next three days.
*
2.
Bucky's running late after a day clogged with stupid SHIELD briefings, and agents who think they can prove something by giving him a hard time about paperwork. He gets to the brownstone to find Steve laughing with the real estate broker, who tosses her hair and puts a hand on his forearm.
Bucky swallows down his annoyance--he knows he has no right to be jealous, but he likes it best when he's the one who makes Steve laugh. Always has. He pushes that down, too, and forces himself to smile. "Sorry I'm late."
Steve swings around to face him, his smile widening in a way that makes his whole face light up. Some of the tightness in Bucky's chest eases. "I was starting to worry they were going to keep you at the office all night."
Bucky rolls his eyes. "Bureaucrats." He's not sure how much the broker knows--she works for Pepper, which means she probably knows who Steve is, but if they're going to pretend and play just folks, Bucky's perfectly okay with that. "You didn't have to wait for me."
"I insisted," Steve says. "It's going to be your home too, after all."
Bucky smiles at him, for real this time, basking in Steve's attention.
"If I may," the realtor interrupts, climbing the stoop and tipping her head to indicate they should follow. "There's a laundry room and a gym in the basement, and the top floor has been turned into a studio. You should see the light in the mornings. It's gorgeous."
Bucky remembers Pepper mentioning that--it's why this building is on the list--and even at night, he can tell the place is perfect for Steve. A crescent moon hangs overhead, looking close enough to touch, and Bucky can only imagine what it'll look like flooded with morning sunlight while Steve hunches over his drafting table.
Steve gives him a brief, almost imperceptible nod, and Bucky knows that unless there's a major issue with the plumbing, this is the place they're going to live. Which makes the rest of the walk-through is anticlimactic. There's a kitchen and a couple of bedrooms and a claw-footed bathtub the broker can't stop enthusing about, and she only stutters to a halt when she gets to the "pre-war molding" part of the spiel and they both laugh.
"We'll take it," Steve says, easing her awkwardness, and she smiles warmly at him.
"I'm sure you'll be very happy here."
Steve bumps his arm against Bucky's. "Me, too."
*
3.
"What about this one?" Bucky says, tapping the bed with his right hand. It's got some kind of curlicued brass pipe headboard, the kind of thing he remembers vaguely from his parents' bed in the hazy days before the orphanage.
"Not sturdy enough," Natasha replies before Steve can answer.
Bucky gives Steve a quick once-over and he smiles sheepishly and shrugs. "Okay, did this lug break a bed or something? Because he did it a few times back at base during the war. Didn't know his own strength." Steve's blushing, which makes Bucky grin fondly at him.
Natasha's giving Steve a considering glance now and Clint just looks impressed. "I don't even know why I'm here," he'd said when Steve had grabbed Bucky and Bucky had grabbed Natasha on the way to the furniture store. Now he looks like Bucky's just handed him a prize. "I think you just won me some cash," he says to Bucky and it's Bucky's turn to shrug.
"Is Stark the one paying out?"
"Yeah."
"Well, okay then. I won't even ask for a percentage."
Natasha also nixes the wrought iron frame as not sturdy enough, and the cherry sleigh bed because Steve's too tall.
Steve, with Natasha's approval, eventually settles on a California king with a slatted oak headboard and a reinforced frame.
"I think that thing is bigger than our first apartment," Bucky says.
Steve laughs. "Yeah, but at least it was always warm. Even if it didn't have any windows."
"Yeah."
Before they can get lost in the memories, though, Natasha leads them away from the beds to the bedding. Bucky thinks about mentioning that they still have to buy him a bed, but he's not sure he can deal with another half hour of Natasha shooting Steve speculative looks, or worse, the kinds of looks she might give him, because she doesn't have to speculate.
Bucky's ready to buy the plainest, cheapest blankets they have, but now Steve's all excited about buying something nice and new, and he wants something colorful, warm, and understated. "And not scratchy."
"Yeah, okay, that I can agree with," Bucky says. "The only time he didn't steal my blankets was when they were that cheap Army cotton." He turns to Clint. "They still using those awful things?"
"I think it's better now."
"Don't let him fool you," Steve says. "He claims I was a blanket hog, but he used to steal all the pillows."
"Only because I was afraid you'd suffocate."
"Hmph. Just make sure we buy extra pillows so I have a couple left after this guy gets done stealing them."
Bucky doesn't even want to think about the amount of money they spend on the bed and the bedding. He orders an air mattress to put in his own room, and a set of cheap white sheets to use with it. He does buy a bunch of fluffy pillows, though. A man deserves some luxuries, after all.
*
4.
"Jeez," Steve says, once they're all moved in and his new bed is set up and made in the master bedroom and Bucky's got nothing but an air mattress on the floor of the guest room. "I didn't even think."
Bucky shrugs a shoulder. "It's no big deal. I've slept in worse places."
Steve gives him a reproving look. "This isn't worse places, Buck. It's supposed to be home." He walks across the hall and gestures at the big bed in his big bedroom. "Come on."
Bucky sighs and pretends to be put-upon, but to be honest, he always slept best when he was curled around Steve and able to hear him breathe, and everything else might be different now, but that hasn't changed. Steve tussles a little with him over who gets to be the big spoon, but Bucky knows how to wait him out and how to fight dirty.
"I don't like sleeping on my left side," he says, "and I don't want to sleep with my back to the door."
"Fine," Steve huffs and finally settles down so Bucky can move up behind him, his forehead pressed into the hollow of Steve's shoulder. It's the warmest he's felt in years, and he sleeps like a baby.
He wakes up around six with a mouthful of Steve's hair and a hard-on pressed up against Steve's perfect ass. It's shouldn't be different from a hundred other mornings he's woken up like this, and yet it is. Somehow, it is. They've both survived war and ice and science and found each other again here in the future, found a home together again, and it's everything Bucky has ever wanted and, suddenly, it's not quite enough. Suddenly, he wants even more, wants to be able to touch and kiss and mark Steve as his, and he's pretty sure Steve's not able to give that to him. At least, he's never known Steve to be interested in men, but it's not the kind of thing they've ever discussed, even now when it's not a crime anymore. It was always safer--for him and for Steve--to focus on dames, and that's what Bucky'd always done. Steve's always been the brave one, so if he is, if he had been, Bucky thinks he would have said.
He holds himself very still for a long moment, as if moving will cause a bomb to go off, as if it hasn't already, a bomb with an eighty-year fuse that's exploded when he least expected it, because he'd never known it was even a possibility. He breathes shallowly through his nose, the warm and sleepy scent of Steve familiar and home but somehow no longer safe. His chest is tight and burning, as if he's been running through smoke and now suddenly the air is clear and he can't get enough of it. He eases away, onto his back and then out of the bed, and slowly makes his way to the bathroom, where he spends a few minutes bent over the sink, trying not to hyperventilate.
"Bucky? You okay in there?" Steve raps out shave and a haircut against the bathroom door. "You fall in or something?"
"I'm okay," Bucky says, turning on the cold water and splashing his face. At least his erection has subsided. "Just washing my face."
"Okay," Steve says. He's standing there like some kind of monument to perfection when Bucky opens the door, golden even in the dim early morning light, and it's all Bucky can do not to groan about how screwed he is. "So I've been thinking."
"Uh oh."
"Hush, you. We should have a housewarming."
"Yeah," Bucky says, because maybe the misery of having a house full of people will make him forget that his whole world has once again been turned upside down and there's nothing he can do about it.
*
5.
Bucky used to be the life of the party, but he's still not great in crowds, so he wants to keep it small and casual. Steve still doesn't know all that many people, and Bucky only knows Steve's friends, but between the Avengers and their significant others and assorted SHIELD acquaintances it's still a good dozen people wandering around their space, touching their stuff. Bucky's never had a lot of stuff, and that hasn't changed, but usually the only person he shares it with is Steve. He grits his teeth and forces himself to smile a lot during Stark's commentary on the fifty cent tour.
Tony makes another joke about making sure all the flat surfaces have been bleached, and Bucky wants to pop him one for what he's insinuating (Bucky wishes he could insinuate right back, but it's not true and to imply otherwise would be wrong and also embarrass Steve), but Steve just looks puzzled. Finally, he says, "Tony, I'm sure the cleaning ladies do a great job. I didn't really think it was necessary, but they're SHIELD-approved, and I would never deny people jobs in this economic climate."
The best part is that Tony looks like he can't tell if Steve is bullshitting or not. He takes another sip of his drink and wanders off to find Pepper, who's talking excitedly to Coulson about the series of drawings Steve's hung on the wall of the Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Williamsburg bridges.
Steve puts a hand on Bucky's shoulder and murmurs, "Steady."
"Come on, Steve, you know it's not a party until someone gets punched."
"Bucky," Steve chides, but he's grinning when he slings an arm across Bucky's shoulders, the way Bucky used to do to him, and guides him towards Clint and Natasha, who are decimating the cheese and crackers with Rhodey.
"My apologies," Thor says when he and Jane (and Jane's cute intern) arrive late. "The G train does not run in a timely fashion."
"No, that it does not," Bucky answers. "I'll take your coats." He lays them on the air mattress, which he still hasn't used in the few weeks they've lived here. He knows he should, but every night, he follows Steve into his room and climbs in bed beside him when Steve asks him to. Bucky's never been able to resist Steve.
He comes back into the living room in time to find Thor opening a bottle of champagne he brought with him. "Congratulations, my friends! I am so happy for you in your new home. May your union be blessed and your days together be as unnumbered as the stars. The skalds of Asgard will sing of this night!"
"...Union?" Bucky asks after a pause that seems to only be fraught for him. Thor is pouring out champagne and Pepper is passing around glasses and their friends are all smiling brightly and raising their glasses in a toast.
Bucky glances at Steve, who looks completely baffled but, thankfully, not angry. "Um, thank you?" Steve says. "As much as we appreciate the sentiment," he continues, "we're not actually, um, I think you're under a misapprehension about, uh. Bucky's not--"
Bucky puts him out of his misery. "What Steve is trying to say is that he don't swing my way, but thank you for the bubbly."
Thor looks thunderstruck, Natasha is frowning, and Coulson looks like someone just kicked his puppy.
"Oh my god," Tony says, "You don't--" He turns to Steve. "He doesn't know." He shakes his head. "It's like the oblivious leading the clueless."
"Is that akin to the blindfolded leading the naked?" Thor asks.
"If that's what they're into, big guy. I don't judge," Tony answers. He's enjoying this way too much. Bucky would laugh if Steve didn't look so much like he's been sucker-punched. "Seems a little advanced for these two, though."
"What?" Steve asks faintly.
"'Tis a popular lovers game in Asgard," Thor says.
"I...see," Steve says, and then he drains his glass of champagne.
"So you all thought, what, exactly?" Bucky says, trying to draw attention away from him and the way he looks like he's not getting enough air. It's not a look Bucky's ever liked seeing on his face, and he'd thought he'd never have to see it again. "That Steve was my fella?"
"Well, yes," Pepper says. She carefully places her still full champagne glass on the coffee table. She's even found a coaster, or perhaps she's brought one with her, because Bucky doesn't think they even own coasters, but he also doesn't think he and Steve are an item, so what does he know? "Why do you think we helped you find a new home?"
"Because you didn't feel safe with me under your roof."
"Bucky," Steve interrupts but Bucky holds up a hand and shakes his head.
"I don't blame you. You shouldn't feel safe with me around. If that wasn't the reason, then I don't understand."
"No," Pepper says. "It's not that at all." She touches his arm lightly. "We thought you'd want a place of your own, since we believed you were a couple who hadn't had a chance to be together in private for a very long time."
"We knew it might be difficult for you to be," Bruce pauses as if searching for the correct word, "out, even among friends, and didn't want to pressure you."
"I totally wanted to pressure you," Tony says, refilling his glass and taking another long drink.
"That's why nobody listens to you," Natasha says. She takes Bucky's arm in one hand and Steve's in the other and leads them into the hallway. "You have access to the roof, right?"
"Yeah?" Bucky says.
"Up you go. Sort yourselves out. I will try to explain to Thor that the champagne was a trifle premature, but your epic romance is still happening."
He glances at Steve, who's still looking a little spooked while he studies the pre-war molding and pretends to ignore the conversation. "It is?"
Natasha shoots him a look that is two parts unimpressed and one part affection. "It is." She gestures again. "Now go. The skalds are waiting to sing."
"Oh my gosh, Bucky," Steve says when they get up to the roof. "I am so sorry."
"What? You got nothing to be sorry about, Steve."
"I know you always liked girls."
"So do you. I mean, Agent Carter..." Bucky's smile feels fake, and though he doesn't think Steve can tell, he looks at a point a little past Steve's right shoulder rather than directly at him.
"Yeah." Steve sighs, shoves his hands in his pockets, and rocks back and forth on his heels awkwardly. "But I never only liked girls."
Bucky's gaze snaps to Steve's face. "Wait, what?"
"And I know I'm not the only one waking up a little," he makes an awkward gesture towards his groin, "excited since we moved in. I guess I hoped, after all this time that maybe, you know, you felt the same way."
"Wait a minute, Rogers, are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"
Steve takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders like he's expecting to get punched. "I'm telling you I wouldn't mind if you were my fella, and I was yours."
Bucky's smile is wide and real this time. "I'd like that." He curls a hand in the front of Steve's shirt and tugs him down for a kiss, which feels dangerous and safe all at once, and exactly like coming home. "Come on," he says, lips pressed to the perfect angle of Steve's jaw, "let's give those skalds something to sing about." Steve laughs into his kiss, and it's headier than all the champagne in the world.
end
~*~
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Avengers; Steve/Bucky; pg; 3,130 words
It's like the oblivious leading the clueless.
Everyone thinks they're dating, for
angelgazing. Title from Tom McRae. Thanks to
laurificus and
snacky for help when I needed it.
~*~
last night, while I slept, they rearranged the streets
1.
It's only a couple days after Bucky moves into Steve's suite at the tower that Pepper visits with some real estate listings.
"Steve hasn't really settled in any the places he's lived since we've known him," she says, tapping at a StarkPad, "but now that you're back we thought you two might like a place of your own." Her smile is warm and unwavering, and Bucky finds himself unexpectedly smiling back.
If it were Stark, Bucky would say something cutting about having been kicked out of better places in his time, but he can understand why Pepper wouldn't feel safe with him in her home, so he just nods and lets her walk him through computer simulations of various apartments in Brooklyn. "We thought you might like a familiar neighborhood," is how she puts it. "I'll leave this with you," she says when she's done, tapping the tablet, which has gone dark, "so you and Steve can discuss what you want to do."
"Thanks," he answers, equal parts charmed and bemused. He can see why she runs both Stark and Stark Industries, and why the other Avengers often defer to her, Steve included.
"We just want you to be happy," she says and gives him a peck on the cheek (he pretends not to be flustered) before she's off to do whatever it is CEOs do these days.
When Steve comes home, he's just as bemused as Bucky by the whole thing, but he sits down on the couch, arm and thigh pressed warmly against Bucky's, and listens attentively when Bucky repeats the presentation. With Jarvis's help, they suddenly have a real estate broker and appointments to see three apartments in the next three days.
*
2.
Bucky's running late after a day clogged with stupid SHIELD briefings, and agents who think they can prove something by giving him a hard time about paperwork. He gets to the brownstone to find Steve laughing with the real estate broker, who tosses her hair and puts a hand on his forearm.
Bucky swallows down his annoyance--he knows he has no right to be jealous, but he likes it best when he's the one who makes Steve laugh. Always has. He pushes that down, too, and forces himself to smile. "Sorry I'm late."
Steve swings around to face him, his smile widening in a way that makes his whole face light up. Some of the tightness in Bucky's chest eases. "I was starting to worry they were going to keep you at the office all night."
Bucky rolls his eyes. "Bureaucrats." He's not sure how much the broker knows--she works for Pepper, which means she probably knows who Steve is, but if they're going to pretend and play just folks, Bucky's perfectly okay with that. "You didn't have to wait for me."
"I insisted," Steve says. "It's going to be your home too, after all."
Bucky smiles at him, for real this time, basking in Steve's attention.
"If I may," the realtor interrupts, climbing the stoop and tipping her head to indicate they should follow. "There's a laundry room and a gym in the basement, and the top floor has been turned into a studio. You should see the light in the mornings. It's gorgeous."
Bucky remembers Pepper mentioning that--it's why this building is on the list--and even at night, he can tell the place is perfect for Steve. A crescent moon hangs overhead, looking close enough to touch, and Bucky can only imagine what it'll look like flooded with morning sunlight while Steve hunches over his drafting table.
Steve gives him a brief, almost imperceptible nod, and Bucky knows that unless there's a major issue with the plumbing, this is the place they're going to live. Which makes the rest of the walk-through is anticlimactic. There's a kitchen and a couple of bedrooms and a claw-footed bathtub the broker can't stop enthusing about, and she only stutters to a halt when she gets to the "pre-war molding" part of the spiel and they both laugh.
"We'll take it," Steve says, easing her awkwardness, and she smiles warmly at him.
"I'm sure you'll be very happy here."
Steve bumps his arm against Bucky's. "Me, too."
*
3.
"What about this one?" Bucky says, tapping the bed with his right hand. It's got some kind of curlicued brass pipe headboard, the kind of thing he remembers vaguely from his parents' bed in the hazy days before the orphanage.
"Not sturdy enough," Natasha replies before Steve can answer.
Bucky gives Steve a quick once-over and he smiles sheepishly and shrugs. "Okay, did this lug break a bed or something? Because he did it a few times back at base during the war. Didn't know his own strength." Steve's blushing, which makes Bucky grin fondly at him.
Natasha's giving Steve a considering glance now and Clint just looks impressed. "I don't even know why I'm here," he'd said when Steve had grabbed Bucky and Bucky had grabbed Natasha on the way to the furniture store. Now he looks like Bucky's just handed him a prize. "I think you just won me some cash," he says to Bucky and it's Bucky's turn to shrug.
"Is Stark the one paying out?"
"Yeah."
"Well, okay then. I won't even ask for a percentage."
Natasha also nixes the wrought iron frame as not sturdy enough, and the cherry sleigh bed because Steve's too tall.
Steve, with Natasha's approval, eventually settles on a California king with a slatted oak headboard and a reinforced frame.
"I think that thing is bigger than our first apartment," Bucky says.
Steve laughs. "Yeah, but at least it was always warm. Even if it didn't have any windows."
"Yeah."
Before they can get lost in the memories, though, Natasha leads them away from the beds to the bedding. Bucky thinks about mentioning that they still have to buy him a bed, but he's not sure he can deal with another half hour of Natasha shooting Steve speculative looks, or worse, the kinds of looks she might give him, because she doesn't have to speculate.
Bucky's ready to buy the plainest, cheapest blankets they have, but now Steve's all excited about buying something nice and new, and he wants something colorful, warm, and understated. "And not scratchy."
"Yeah, okay, that I can agree with," Bucky says. "The only time he didn't steal my blankets was when they were that cheap Army cotton." He turns to Clint. "They still using those awful things?"
"I think it's better now."
"Don't let him fool you," Steve says. "He claims I was a blanket hog, but he used to steal all the pillows."
"Only because I was afraid you'd suffocate."
"Hmph. Just make sure we buy extra pillows so I have a couple left after this guy gets done stealing them."
Bucky doesn't even want to think about the amount of money they spend on the bed and the bedding. He orders an air mattress to put in his own room, and a set of cheap white sheets to use with it. He does buy a bunch of fluffy pillows, though. A man deserves some luxuries, after all.
*
4.
"Jeez," Steve says, once they're all moved in and his new bed is set up and made in the master bedroom and Bucky's got nothing but an air mattress on the floor of the guest room. "I didn't even think."
Bucky shrugs a shoulder. "It's no big deal. I've slept in worse places."
Steve gives him a reproving look. "This isn't worse places, Buck. It's supposed to be home." He walks across the hall and gestures at the big bed in his big bedroom. "Come on."
Bucky sighs and pretends to be put-upon, but to be honest, he always slept best when he was curled around Steve and able to hear him breathe, and everything else might be different now, but that hasn't changed. Steve tussles a little with him over who gets to be the big spoon, but Bucky knows how to wait him out and how to fight dirty.
"I don't like sleeping on my left side," he says, "and I don't want to sleep with my back to the door."
"Fine," Steve huffs and finally settles down so Bucky can move up behind him, his forehead pressed into the hollow of Steve's shoulder. It's the warmest he's felt in years, and he sleeps like a baby.
He wakes up around six with a mouthful of Steve's hair and a hard-on pressed up against Steve's perfect ass. It's shouldn't be different from a hundred other mornings he's woken up like this, and yet it is. Somehow, it is. They've both survived war and ice and science and found each other again here in the future, found a home together again, and it's everything Bucky has ever wanted and, suddenly, it's not quite enough. Suddenly, he wants even more, wants to be able to touch and kiss and mark Steve as his, and he's pretty sure Steve's not able to give that to him. At least, he's never known Steve to be interested in men, but it's not the kind of thing they've ever discussed, even now when it's not a crime anymore. It was always safer--for him and for Steve--to focus on dames, and that's what Bucky'd always done. Steve's always been the brave one, so if he is, if he had been, Bucky thinks he would have said.
He holds himself very still for a long moment, as if moving will cause a bomb to go off, as if it hasn't already, a bomb with an eighty-year fuse that's exploded when he least expected it, because he'd never known it was even a possibility. He breathes shallowly through his nose, the warm and sleepy scent of Steve familiar and home but somehow no longer safe. His chest is tight and burning, as if he's been running through smoke and now suddenly the air is clear and he can't get enough of it. He eases away, onto his back and then out of the bed, and slowly makes his way to the bathroom, where he spends a few minutes bent over the sink, trying not to hyperventilate.
"Bucky? You okay in there?" Steve raps out shave and a haircut against the bathroom door. "You fall in or something?"
"I'm okay," Bucky says, turning on the cold water and splashing his face. At least his erection has subsided. "Just washing my face."
"Okay," Steve says. He's standing there like some kind of monument to perfection when Bucky opens the door, golden even in the dim early morning light, and it's all Bucky can do not to groan about how screwed he is. "So I've been thinking."
"Uh oh."
"Hush, you. We should have a housewarming."
"Yeah," Bucky says, because maybe the misery of having a house full of people will make him forget that his whole world has once again been turned upside down and there's nothing he can do about it.
*
5.
Bucky used to be the life of the party, but he's still not great in crowds, so he wants to keep it small and casual. Steve still doesn't know all that many people, and Bucky only knows Steve's friends, but between the Avengers and their significant others and assorted SHIELD acquaintances it's still a good dozen people wandering around their space, touching their stuff. Bucky's never had a lot of stuff, and that hasn't changed, but usually the only person he shares it with is Steve. He grits his teeth and forces himself to smile a lot during Stark's commentary on the fifty cent tour.
Tony makes another joke about making sure all the flat surfaces have been bleached, and Bucky wants to pop him one for what he's insinuating (Bucky wishes he could insinuate right back, but it's not true and to imply otherwise would be wrong and also embarrass Steve), but Steve just looks puzzled. Finally, he says, "Tony, I'm sure the cleaning ladies do a great job. I didn't really think it was necessary, but they're SHIELD-approved, and I would never deny people jobs in this economic climate."
The best part is that Tony looks like he can't tell if Steve is bullshitting or not. He takes another sip of his drink and wanders off to find Pepper, who's talking excitedly to Coulson about the series of drawings Steve's hung on the wall of the Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Williamsburg bridges.
Steve puts a hand on Bucky's shoulder and murmurs, "Steady."
"Come on, Steve, you know it's not a party until someone gets punched."
"Bucky," Steve chides, but he's grinning when he slings an arm across Bucky's shoulders, the way Bucky used to do to him, and guides him towards Clint and Natasha, who are decimating the cheese and crackers with Rhodey.
"My apologies," Thor says when he and Jane (and Jane's cute intern) arrive late. "The G train does not run in a timely fashion."
"No, that it does not," Bucky answers. "I'll take your coats." He lays them on the air mattress, which he still hasn't used in the few weeks they've lived here. He knows he should, but every night, he follows Steve into his room and climbs in bed beside him when Steve asks him to. Bucky's never been able to resist Steve.
He comes back into the living room in time to find Thor opening a bottle of champagne he brought with him. "Congratulations, my friends! I am so happy for you in your new home. May your union be blessed and your days together be as unnumbered as the stars. The skalds of Asgard will sing of this night!"
"...Union?" Bucky asks after a pause that seems to only be fraught for him. Thor is pouring out champagne and Pepper is passing around glasses and their friends are all smiling brightly and raising their glasses in a toast.
Bucky glances at Steve, who looks completely baffled but, thankfully, not angry. "Um, thank you?" Steve says. "As much as we appreciate the sentiment," he continues, "we're not actually, um, I think you're under a misapprehension about, uh. Bucky's not--"
Bucky puts him out of his misery. "What Steve is trying to say is that he don't swing my way, but thank you for the bubbly."
Thor looks thunderstruck, Natasha is frowning, and Coulson looks like someone just kicked his puppy.
"Oh my god," Tony says, "You don't--" He turns to Steve. "He doesn't know." He shakes his head. "It's like the oblivious leading the clueless."
"Is that akin to the blindfolded leading the naked?" Thor asks.
"If that's what they're into, big guy. I don't judge," Tony answers. He's enjoying this way too much. Bucky would laugh if Steve didn't look so much like he's been sucker-punched. "Seems a little advanced for these two, though."
"What?" Steve asks faintly.
"'Tis a popular lovers game in Asgard," Thor says.
"I...see," Steve says, and then he drains his glass of champagne.
"So you all thought, what, exactly?" Bucky says, trying to draw attention away from him and the way he looks like he's not getting enough air. It's not a look Bucky's ever liked seeing on his face, and he'd thought he'd never have to see it again. "That Steve was my fella?"
"Well, yes," Pepper says. She carefully places her still full champagne glass on the coffee table. She's even found a coaster, or perhaps she's brought one with her, because Bucky doesn't think they even own coasters, but he also doesn't think he and Steve are an item, so what does he know? "Why do you think we helped you find a new home?"
"Because you didn't feel safe with me under your roof."
"Bucky," Steve interrupts but Bucky holds up a hand and shakes his head.
"I don't blame you. You shouldn't feel safe with me around. If that wasn't the reason, then I don't understand."
"No," Pepper says. "It's not that at all." She touches his arm lightly. "We thought you'd want a place of your own, since we believed you were a couple who hadn't had a chance to be together in private for a very long time."
"We knew it might be difficult for you to be," Bruce pauses as if searching for the correct word, "out, even among friends, and didn't want to pressure you."
"I totally wanted to pressure you," Tony says, refilling his glass and taking another long drink.
"That's why nobody listens to you," Natasha says. She takes Bucky's arm in one hand and Steve's in the other and leads them into the hallway. "You have access to the roof, right?"
"Yeah?" Bucky says.
"Up you go. Sort yourselves out. I will try to explain to Thor that the champagne was a trifle premature, but your epic romance is still happening."
He glances at Steve, who's still looking a little spooked while he studies the pre-war molding and pretends to ignore the conversation. "It is?"
Natasha shoots him a look that is two parts unimpressed and one part affection. "It is." She gestures again. "Now go. The skalds are waiting to sing."
"Oh my gosh, Bucky," Steve says when they get up to the roof. "I am so sorry."
"What? You got nothing to be sorry about, Steve."
"I know you always liked girls."
"So do you. I mean, Agent Carter..." Bucky's smile feels fake, and though he doesn't think Steve can tell, he looks at a point a little past Steve's right shoulder rather than directly at him.
"Yeah." Steve sighs, shoves his hands in his pockets, and rocks back and forth on his heels awkwardly. "But I never only liked girls."
Bucky's gaze snaps to Steve's face. "Wait, what?"
"And I know I'm not the only one waking up a little," he makes an awkward gesture towards his groin, "excited since we moved in. I guess I hoped, after all this time that maybe, you know, you felt the same way."
"Wait a minute, Rogers, are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"
Steve takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders like he's expecting to get punched. "I'm telling you I wouldn't mind if you were my fella, and I was yours."
Bucky's smile is wide and real this time. "I'd like that." He curls a hand in the front of Steve's shirt and tugs him down for a kiss, which feels dangerous and safe all at once, and exactly like coming home. "Come on," he says, lips pressed to the perfect angle of Steve's jaw, "let's give those skalds something to sing about." Steve laughs into his kiss, and it's headier than all the champagne in the world.
end
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