[A Gift, A Blessing and an Act of Love]

Sam groaned against the beams of golden light gently caressing his face, squeezing his eyelids shut in a fruitless attempt to keep the day out. Feeling the presence of a warm body on the other side of the bed, he rolled himself over, shuffling closer to Bucky’s back. He wrapped his arm around Bucky’s waist and settled his cheek against the nape of Bucky’s neck, and he didn’t even have to think about it. It was the most natural thing in the world for them. 

A hand settled over his own, metallic, though not as cold as one might expect. Sam wasn’t alarmed, as he may have been once upon a time, years ago, before the Flag Smashers, before he confessed to Bucky on the dock. 

Idly, Sam laced their fingers together, giving himself a moment to enjoy the peace before the day charged through the door, demanding their attention.

“I should get ready,” Bucky murmured, voice hoarse. There it is, Sam said silently to himself. Bucky’s voice vibrated through his chest, reminding Sam of the times when they’d lay in this very position, Sam holding Bucky around the middle while Bucky read aloud, lulling them both into a gentle sleep that was often hard to attain.

“Not yet,” Sam complained, voice muffled. Bucky chuckled and squeezed Sam’s fingers

“I thought you were a morning person, Samuel?” Bucky teased, and Sam grumbled wordlessly in response. Bucky laughed. “It’s one night, Sam. I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“I could go with you,” Sam offered, as though they hadn’t already discussed it. “You don’t have to go alone.” 

“I know,” Bucky said, managing to shift onto his back and turn his head to look at Sam, who cracked open an eye to meet his gaze. “I know I don’t need to, but we’ve talked about this. While I’m in Wakanda, you can go see Sarah and the boys. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“I know, I know, I just-” Sam loosened his grip on the Vibranium fingers to run his hand across Bucky’s chest, tracing invisible patterns on the material of his T-shirt. His eyes, however, remained fixed on Bucky’s, trying to convey everything- the anxiety, the worry, the love- all while getting lost in Bucky’s sea-mist eyes.

Bucky, it seemed, got the message.

“I know, Sammy. You’re worried, and you’re allowed to be.” His voice was soft, a confident reassurance. “It’s for the arm more than anything else. They’re just gonna run through the words once or twice to double-check everything, and then a psych check. I’m going to be fine, and I’ll keep you updated like I promised, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam agreed. He gave a small smile. “I know everything’s gonna be fine, because I know you, and I’d know if you weren’t you. Just…yeah. It’s gonna be fine.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in to press his lips gently to Sam’s. 

“Of course it is,” Bucky said when they separated, then he laughed. “Besides, you finally get some time to yourself after we’ve been living on top of each other for like a year. You must be excited.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Sam joked, watching the lines of Bucky’s face wrinkle with joy. “I’m half ready to ask you to stay in Wakanda for a few weeks, give me a break, you know?” Bucky laughed.

“Well, unfortunately for you, I don’t think the Wakandans would keep me for that long,” Bucky replied, voice still light with amusement.

“What a shame,” Sam said with a wide grin.

After a few more moments of basking in each other’s warmth, Bucky spoke. “I really should get up or I’m gonna be late.” Sam huffed out a laugh and pushed Bucky gently away from himself and toward the edge of the bed, though even after Bucky stood, Sam himself made no effort to get out from under the covers.

After a few moments of listening to Bucky move around their shared Brooklyn apartment, Sam heard his partner return to the bedroom, the intoxicating scent of fresh coffee following him through the door. Sam’s eyes drifted open in time to see Bucky place the mug on the bedside table and wander off to the dresser to get changed out of his pyjamas and into something more appropriate for going outside into the public world.

Sam sat up and reached for the mug at his side, his eyes flicking over to catch Bucky tugging on his leather jacket. Bucky then turned back toward the bed and picked up the duffle bag he’d packed the previous night.

“Alright, well,” Bucky began, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed while Sam sipped his coffee, “I’d better go.”

“Good riddance,” Sam quipped, grinning.

“I love you, asshole.”

Sam pulled him in to kiss him again, “I love you, too, dumbass.”

Then Bucky was gone. Sam listened to the front door open and then close and let his head fall back against the headboard. The nerves were still there, but he trusted in the fact that everything would be okay.

~~~

Bucky stepped off the jet, flanked by two members of the Dora Milaje, and descended the ramp. A familiar face was waiting to meet him.

“White Wolf. It is good to see you again,” Ayo said with a respectful nod, which Bucky returned.

“It is good to be back,” he replied with a grin, and it was true. Being back in Wakanda was in most ways relieving, for it was a place that he felt he was always welcome, which could not be said for many other places he’d been. 

“Come, Princess Shuri wishes to see you.”

The pair walked through the doors of the palace in comfortable silence, meeting Shuri in the throne room, where she was talking with her mother. The Princess was waving her hands around, as was her animated way of explaining things, and the Queen listened attentively, clearly not as enthusiastic as her daughter, but listening nonetheless.

Then Shuri turned and caught sight of him.

“Bucky! It’s so good to see you!” She ran forward and embraced him eagerly, her grip surprisingly tight considering her size.

“And you, your highness,” Bucky teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Shuri chastised him with a grin. “Or I’ll have to start calling you Sergeant.”

Bucky glanced over at the Queen Mother of Wakanda, who smiled warmly at him and waved as she left the throne room through one of the side doors. Bucky couldn’t say they’d ever been particularly close, but she’d always been kind.

“Now,” Shuri began, leading Bucky back through the main doors and down the hall into a parlour, “tell me all about what you’ve been up to!”

They spent much of the afternoon catching up, discussing the Flag Smashers and how Wakanda was recovering after the Blip. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited sooner, Shuri,” Bucky confessed and did his best to convey his regret in his gaze. “I know I should have come back, especially after Zemo, and I’m so sorry about all of that, I can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like-”

“No, no!” Shuri interrupted, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. “You did what you had to do, we know that. Yes, it was difficult and brought up some hard memories to deal with, but it’s okay. There have been lots of weddings keeping me busy! It’s a happy time here in Wakanda, even if the same cannot be said for the rest of the world.”

“I’m glad.” Bucky smiled.

“Actually, speaking of weddings,” Shuri teased, a grin spreading across her face, “should I be expecting the White Wolf to ask for someone’s hand soon? Perhaps a certain bird man? A certain Captain America?”

“Well-” Bucky let out a soft sigh- “I actually need your advice on that.”

“Really? You came to me for relationship advice?” Shuri laughed. “And here I thought you came out of the kindness of your heart!”

“You-you’re the only friend I have to ask about this,” Bucky conceded, somewhat apprehensively.

“Okay, White Wolf. Shoot.”

“I want to ask Sam to marry me.” Bucky leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. He let out a heaving sigh as he looked at her. “But I don’t know how to.”

“Um...by asking?” Shuri laughed again, but Bucky didn’t join in. She stopped and looked at him. “What do you mean, Bucky?”

“I just- I don’t know anything about proposals in the 21st century! Do I ask for a blessing? How do I actually say it?” Bucky realised another thing. “Is proposing to a man different to proposing to a woman?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Shuri held up her hands to silence him. “Again, I don’t know why you’re asking me any of this, but I think you’re overthinking it, Bucky. I don’t think there’s a right way to propose to someone. You just need to do what feels right.”

Bucky was silent for a moment, thinking. He frowned. 

“What if he says no?”

Shuri leaned forward and took his hand. “I don’t think he will. He is as in love with you as you are with him. But what do you have to lose, anyway? Do you really think he will break up with you because you asked him to be your husband?”

Bucky shook his head. He knew Sam wouldn’t, but he felt apprehensive about it anyway. What if Sam never wants to marry? It’s not the worst thing, but it still concerns him.

“I don’t even have a ring, I don’t know why I’m even-“

“You don’t have a ring? Bucky...” Shuri shook her head. Suddenly, she turned away from him, and toward Ayo who was standing in the doorway, looking incredibly amused at the whole situation. “Ayo? You can take Bucky for his testing now, I have something I need to do.”

Bucky opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but Shuri was out the door before he could get out a single syllable. Ayo gestured for him to follow her and he did.

~~~

Unsurprisingly, the ‘testing’, as Shuri called it, went well, although Bucky didn’t think ‘test’ was the right word. All he had to do was sit while Ayo said his trigger words and then answer questions about his mental health like he didn’t do that every two weeks with Dr Raynor anyway. 

After that, some technicians came in and did some checks on his arm- range of movement, sensitivity, some questions about pain levels- then they detached it. It was still a weird feeling, and it made him feel a little nauseous to look down at the empty socket, but then they agreed- upon Ayo’s request- to show him how to get the arm off if he chose to. Ayo gave him a small, almost apologetic smile, and then the testing was done.

He messaged Sam later, as he’d promised to do.

Finished the check. Nothing to worry about. 

Sam replied almost instantly and Bucky smiled to himself.

Good. Can you come home now??

I’m flying back tomorrow. Do you miss me?

Of course not. Love you

Love you too

~~~

Bucky realised that sleeping in the palace was infinitely more comfortable than sleeping in his little hut out on the farm. The four-poster king bed in the spare room that he was assigned was more luxurious than anything he’d ever slept on before- fluffy pillows and a perfectly heavy bedspread- though he found himself missing the cot he slept on for two years. The sound of the palace was nothing like the sound of the goats, the bed was just a touch too soft for him to easily succumb to sleep, and there was no Sam. Bucky didn’t sleep well.

In the morning, running on not quite enough sleep, but enough to keep him functioning, Shuri met him out on the landing strip and, as if they’d been apart for years rather than just a few hours, she hugged him tightly.

“I wish you could stay longer,” Shuri admitted, eyes soft when they parted.

“Me too, but I think Sam would fly here himself to take me home if I stay any longer.” Bucky huffed out a laugh. Distantly he wondered when laughing had become so easy for him.

“Then bring him with you! When you get married you can have your honeymoon here! Then you have no excuse to stop me from terrorising him!” Shuri pushed his shoulder lightly. “Speaking of weddings, I have a gift for you.”

She gestured for one of the Dora standing nearby, who stepped forward and presented a box, which Shuri took. Bucky watched with confusion as she handed it to him. “Open it.”

Bucky did as he was told, opening the small box and revealing a ring. The band was dark grey, though inlaid with slivers of gold that blended with the grey to create a stunning marble effect on the ring.

He gaped at Shuri.

“Is this-”

“A ring for your man!” Shuri exclaimed. “I made it yesterday. It’s Vibranium! Pieces I had left over from when we were making your arm!”

Bucky stared at the ring, numb with shock.

“Oh, and!” She gestured for another of the Dora to come forward, presenting yet another box. Shuri once again opened it with a dramatic flourish and Bucky caught sight of another ring, this time white with delicate dark blue and red highlights. “This one is the same Vibranium we used for Sam’s wings!”

Bucky couldn’t speak. He could hardly breathe.

Then, Shuri was rambling. “If you don’t like it, I can just melt them back down, it doesn’t matter- I just thought- well, they’re like a wedding gift, kinda-”

Bucky interrupted her anxious rambling by pulling her into a tight hug. He felt her let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to thank her, or apologise, or just say something, but words were never his strong suit, and apparently, nothing could really change that.

“Thank you,” he managed in a hoarse whisper. He prayed it was enough.

“Of course, White Wolf.”

~~~

Sam stood in the kitchen of his sister’s home preparing sandwiches for lunch, his nephews kicking a soccer ball in the front yard. He was just putting the lettuce on the final sandwich when he heard a shout from Cass.

“Uncle Bucky!” 

Sam’s heart warmed, both at the affectionate name the boys called Bucky and the news that his partner was back. He rinsed his hands and shook them dry as he walked out onto the porch to meet him.

“Finally!” Sam exclaimed teasingly from the top of the steps as he watched Bucky sling his duffle bag over his shoulder and walk over, the boys bouncing along beside him, already chattering away. “Lunch is on the counter, boys, give Uncle Bucky a minute,” he said, and the pair ran inside, though not before some groaning about how unfair it all supposedly was.

“Missed me?” Bucky asked tauntingly when he got close enough, standing on the step second from the top, their chests almost touching. Where they were positioned, Sam was about an inch taller than Bucky, an unusual feeling. 

“Depends-” Sam shrugged, reaching to sling his arms over Bucky’s shoulders- “did you miss me?”

Bucky hummed, leaning forward to press a kiss to Sam’s lips, resting his arms around Sam’s waist. “A little.”

Sam laughed and stepped back, leading Bucky into the house.

~~~

It wasn’t until the next morning that Sam noticed something was going on. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but Bucky seemed on edge. Anxious. Jittery.

“Hey, everything okay, Buck?” He asked as they sat on the dock untangling fishing nets. It was shit work, but it kept them busy and gave them a chance to spend time together, which was surprisingly hard to do when they were around Sam’s family. “You seem like you’ve got something going on.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m good. Great, actually.” Bucky smiled.

Sam would have believed it if not for the worry lingering behind Bucky’s eyes. He let the issue go, however, certain that if Bucky needed him, he would ask. 

~~~

Later in the day, Bucky sat at the dining table while Sarah stood in the kitchen, preparing lunch. Sam was helping one of Sarah’s neighbours with boat problems, and Bucky was, admittedly, exhausted from travelling to and from Wakanda, and then the obvious fatigue that came with waiting to ask your boyfriend to marry you. So, he’d decided not to help on the boat.

Instead, he was mending one of Sam’s jackets, the arm of which had torn almost entirely off. How the fuck had it happened? Bucky had precisely no clue.

“When’d you learn to sew?” Sarah asked suddenly, cutting vegetables for a platter. 

“My Ma taught me.” Bucky took the needle from between his teeth to speak clearly, “I’m the eldest of five- four younger sisters. We didn’t have much money, and Ma worked a lot, so I fixed a lot of our clothes when the girls were too young to fix their own,” Bucky explained, smiling at the memory. He counted every memory from before Hydra as a blessing. 

A thought occurred to Bucky and he paused, looking up at Sarah. 

“What? What’re you starin’ at?” She asked, but Bucky just shook his head. She stopped her cutting to put her hands on her hips. “Bucky, I have two kids, I know the face of a boy who wants to ask something.”

Bucky looked at her for a moment, considering not saying anything, but deciding that he needed to ask eventually, so it might as well be now. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she kind of scared him.

“I, uh...I wanted to ask for your...blessing,” he said quietly, averting his eyes. “I plan to ask Sam to marry me.”

Sarah huffed and Bucky’s eyes snapped up. “My blessing? You wanna ask my permission to marry my brother?” Bucky bit his lip, feeling his cheeks flush. Shame flooded him as he anticipated her rejection. 

Then, Sarah’s smile softened and she came around the counter to sit across from him. “Bucky. Look at me.” He did, and she reached out, touching the hand holding Sam’s torn jacket and looking into his eyes. “Of course you have my blessing. It would be an honour to welcome you to the family. God knows you’re pretty much part of it anyway.”

The relief that the words brought threatened to overwhelm Bucky, and he chewed the inside of his cheek to keep himself from bursting into tears. Nervous anticipation and excitement bubbled up from his stomach, burning pleasantly in his chest.

Bucky grinned. “Thank you. It, uh… it means a lot.”

Sarah gave him another smile, and it felt like a gift.

~~~

That evening Bucky sat around the table with Sam and his family after a dinner of lasagna that Sarah had made, with the help of Sam. It had been Bucky’s job to entertain the boys, and though he still didn’t think he was particularly great with kids, he tried his best. They seemed happy enough, so he figured he can’t have done anything too wrong.

“Well, I’d better do these dishes. AJ, you can help me,” Sarah declared, standing from the table and starting to clear the plates. AJ groaned but followed her.

Bucky stood, too, steeling himself with a deep breath. “I’m gonna go for a walk,” he explained, looking at Sam, “come with me?”

Sam nodded, giving a bright smile that set Bucky’s heart alight. “Sure, Buck.”

The pair headed toward the door, and as he held the door for Sam, Bucky saw Sarah standing in the kitchen, a knowing smile on her face. She grinned when she caught him looking and nodded, shooting him an eager thumbs-up. He smiled back and followed Sam out the door.

They strolled in silence along the shoreline for a while, Sam reaching out to take Bucky’s hand as they walked, a familiar and comforting gesture. 

Then, Sam sighed.

“Bucky,” he began, “what’s going on? There’s clearly something on your mind,” Sam asked, voice soft, concerned, though not prying. Bucky’s stomach twisted into knots and he silently prayed that Sam couldn’t feel how clammy his hand was becoming. He took yet another deep breath to steady himself.

“Actually- uh...yeah there is something on my mind.”

Bucky pulled Sam to a stop, stepping in front of him so that they were face to face before the vast stretch of ocean and the setting sun. He held both of Sam’s hands between them, connecting them with ropes of love, ropes of devotion. Sam’s eyes were confused and worried, his mouth a tight line.

“I love you, Sam, you know that. I- I love you more than anything, and there’s...something I need to ask you,” Bucky explained, fighting to keep his voice even. 

He closed his eyes briefly, sinking to one knee in the sand, and reaching into his jacket pocket to retrieve Shuri’s first gift to him. He opened his eyes and looked up at Sam. His mouth fell open as Bucky presented the ring.

“Sam Wilson… Will you please do me the honour of becoming my husband?”

Sam was silent for a moment, unmoving. Bucky’s breathing echoed in his ears, louder than the ocean at their side, louder than his thundering heart. 

“Bucky…” Sam breathed, tears welling in his eyes. “Of course I’ll be your husband.”

There was a moment, right as the words were spoken, that Bucky could have sworn that for just a second- the briefest moment- the world came to a halt. The breeze gently ruffling his hair, the crashing waves, the family laughing and chattering just down the beach, the seagulls squawking at one another as they fly overhead; all of it just…stops. 

And then, as instantly as it stopped, the world snapped back to normal, like nothing at all happened. Like everything was as it always had been. Like nothing had been changed.

Like Sam hadn’t just agreed to be Bucky’s husband.

Bucky shot to his feet, taking Sam’s hand again and slipping the ring onto his finger, grateful that his Vibranium hand was stable, even though his other was shaking like a leaf. 

Sam suddenly pulled him into a crushing hug, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and clinging to him like he might disappear. Bucky buried his face in Sam’s neck, feeling warm tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Is this really what you had me worrying over?” Sam laughed wetly into Buckys shoulder and Bucky’s heart stuttered.

He sniffed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I...was worried you wouldn’t say yes, that you wouldn’t want to marry me.”

“Did you really think I’d say no?” Sam pulled back, holding Bucky by the shoulders to look into his eyes. Bucky watched Sam’s beautiful smile spread across his face, warm and welcoming and so very Sam. “Bucky, I love you somuch, asshole. In no world would I say no.”

The pressure built behind Bucky’s eyes again and he vaguely wondered when he’d last cried this much. He let Sam pull him closer and rest their foreheads together.

“I love you, too, dumbass.”

They stayed like that as the sun begin to sink further down beneath the horizon, bathing them in beautiful orange light. Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at Sam’s eyes, the usual brown shining an astounding amber in the afternoon sunlight. 

Then, he remembered Shuri’s other gift.

“Oh, wait…” Bucky drew back and took out Shuri’s other gift. “She also made this one, for me, if you wanted to…” He offered it to Sam, who stared down at it for a moment, shock written on his face as though stamped on by a typewriter. 

“Is this…are these made of Vibranium?” Sam asks, his voice trembling with wonder. 

Bucky nods. He offers his hand to Sam, and as Sam slides the pale ring onto his right hand- Vibranium on Vibranium didn’t exactly work- he explains where the rings came from. “Shuri surprised me with them when I told her I wanted to ask you to marry me-” his breath catches a little as he says it- “and she- she made them from cut-offs. Yours is made from pieces of my arm, and mine is- your wings.”

Sam’s eyes well up and Bucky, who’d only just composed himself, quickly followed suit, as Sam drew him in for a salty, wet kiss that seemed to be his last straw. Sam sobbed against Bucky’s lips and pulled himself back to wipe furiously at his eyes, still clinging to Bucky’s henley with his free hand.

“Oh, Sam…” Bucky whispered, and he tugged Sam into his arms, pressing him firmly against his chest. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he assured Sam, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I love you,” Sam declares, even though his voice is weak from his tears. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” He repeated like a mantra. “I love you, and we’re doing this. We’re doing this, aren’t we?” Sam laughed almost hysterically.

“Yeah, Sam,” Bucky laughed, drawing back to look into Sam’s eyes. “We’re doing this. We’re getting married.”

Bucky couldn’t remember ever having been happier, and he wasn’t sure it was even possible for him to feel more joy than he did at that moment. 

We’re getting married. I’m going to be Sam’s husband.

Bucky, for as long as he could remember, had been carrying around ghosts- lugging them over his shoulder; an invisible ball and chain, keeping him prisoner even in his happiest moments. He’d lost his Pa, then his Ma and his sisters. The Commandos, then himself. Then himself again. Then, after he got himself back, he lost Steve, and Natasha, and even Sam for a short while. The weight of the loss was heavy, and it made his back and shoulders ache.

He’d grown used to it over time, however, until it felt like the weight of them was just a part of him. He didn’t even notice it anymore. 

Until now.

Now, the weight was suddenly gone. Lost. 

And for the first time in so long- too long- he felt like maybe he could do it. Maybe he could finally move on, once and for all.

“I love you, Samuel Thomas Wilson,” Bucky confessed, as if for the first time.

“I love you, too, James Buchanan Barnes,” Sam replied, as if for the hundredth.

Finally, finally, Bucky was free.