5241 words
When they woke up the next morning, they had smiled at each other for a good five minutes before doing anything. Then they fucked, slow and soft and lazily, perfect for morning sex.
They got up out of bed when the afterglow wore off, and Bucky had his morning smoke while he let Punk out and fed him breakfast, since they had both forgotten to feed him dinner last night, which Bucky felt really guilty about. Steve succeeded in cheering him up by giving him a very enthusiastic blowjob up against the counter, successfully ignoring Punk as he growled and snarled at Steve. Bucky orgasmed with laughter on his lips and his hands stroking through Steve’s hair.
Bucky went through his morning routine – opting for an extra thorough sponge bath – while Steve cleaned up the clothes that were strewn about everywhere. True to his word, Bucky dressed up in a short, blue cotton checkered dress, and a high collared shirt with puffed up quarter sleeves under it, definitely reminiscent of Dorothy. He wore blue socks with ruffles at the hem on his feet, which weren’t donned with shoes yet. He was stalled on his hair, not able to decide between the iconic pig tails or the half pinned back look Dorothy sported after her ‘makeover’. He was cursing up a storm, and Steve privately believed that he was overthinking it.
“I'm sure both of them will look great,” Steve reassured as he stepped up behind Bucky to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist and kiss his hair.
In the mirror, Bucky smiled and then scowled. “You're no help, Rogers.”
Wanting to help, Steve took the time to actually think about it. “When I think of Dorothy, I think of the pig tails. Not the other hairstyle.”
Bucky regarded himself critically in the mirror for a second before smiling. “You're a peach, Stevie.”
Steve snorted. “Glad I could help.”
With that minor crisis out of the way, Bucky was able to quickly do his hair – securing his pigtails with bows of blue ribbon like in the film – and move onto makeup, which Steve was still not used to him wearing, even after all this time. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack as Bucky carefully applied a bright red shade of lipstick to his lips, lightly dotting his cheeks with it and then smearing it around so it looked like a natural flush, like Dorothy had in the film. He put on several coats of lengthening mascara. When he blinked coquettishly at himself and then Steve, Steve could feel his eye twitch, a concerning new habit he’d formed. He smiled at Bucky in approval, because he was very approving of the look. The effect wasn’t at all diminished by the huge red sunglasses with red rhinestones that he slid on.
Quite the opposite.
“Oh, you should change,” Bucky said suddenly while he pulled on a long skin colored glove that went up into his sleeve that he secured with a safety pin on his inner arm so it wouldn’t ride down. It was almost the exact shade of his other arm. “I bought a few outfits for you yesterday, not just the suit.”
He pulled out a bag from where it was wedged under the closet that Steve hadn’t seen him hide. “I thought we could match,” Bucky said quietly as he handed it to Steve, along with some simple red Ray Ban sunglasses that he immediately put on.
The bag was mostly full of button downs and trouser pants in shades of khaki, brown, black, grey, white, blue, green, and even pink and purple, just the kind of pants he always liked, although there were a couple of jeans and plain white t-shirts too, for less formal looks, and underwear and socks. Some of them had little designs on them, which Steve thought was cute. There were two shoe boxes on the bottom that contained brown and black loafers that were probably very expensive, like the two belts he also uncovered. It made Steve choke up, since he had always been expected to conform to the new, modern styles of the future, and dismiss the old styles that he still loved. Bucky bought him what he liked, not what he should like.
It made Steve want to marry him even more.
“Oh god,” Bucky muttered when he noticed that Steve had teared up. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said as he stroked Steve's back soothingly. “Shh. Calm down, Stevie. Let’s go get some brunch – which will be gay, of course.”
Steve huffed a helpless little laugh then sniffled, wiping his tears away. “Thank you, Bucky. So much. I really love it. All of it.” He gave Bucky his most sincere smile, and watched as his painted blush darkened even more as he looked away from Steve, shy.
He dressed in a crisp white button down and a pair of sky-blue pants that were the same color as Bucky's dress. He opted for the black belt and loafers, and it gave him a little thrill to wear a pair of blue socks that had tiny little red hearts all over them. After a moment’s consideration, he rolled his sleeves up halfway. He made sure to comb his hair back and inspect his beard for any strands of hair that stuck out too much, wanting to look his best for Bucky. He should really trim it again, knowing that there was a fine line in today’s society between a neat, attractive beard and going full caveman. If it was too bushy or longer than two inches, then it needed to be trimmed.
Like he was reading his mind, Bucky said, “Oh shit, I forgot. I also bought you a beard trimmer so you could trim it more easily than using the pair of scissors on your pocketknife.” He gave Steve a sweet, innocent smile that was almost uncharacteristic for how rare it was. And ohshit, now Steve was going to cry again.
He decided he could wait one more day to trim his beard, mostly too lazy to take his shirt off and have to button it back up and retuck it so he didn’t get hair all over it.
In the meantime, Bucky had decided to put on his Steven necklace, laying it on the outside of his shirt, and it somehow overshadowed the huge ruby that also hung from his neck down below it. Steve was almost blindsided by it, and the concept was ridiculous, given that Bucky was wearing his engagement ring that drew Steve's attention again and again, reminding him that they were getting married. He also put in some ruby earrings, and put on a ruby bracelet, and Steve tried not to think of how expensive they were, a mostly futile endeavor.
Bucky chose a pair of black ballet flats to wear until they could find some ruby slippers when they went shoe shopping today after Gay Brunch. He exchanged the Birkin for a Hermes Kelly picnic bag so he could take Punk in theme, and Steve tried not to laugh at how adorable and funny Bucky was.
“Yeah, yeah,” he sneered at Steve as they got into the cab, “Yuk it up. I'm going ruby slipper shopping with my little dog, too, and I’ll click my heels three times and then transport myself back home without you.”
Steve smirked, amused, but didn’t say anything in his defense. He kissed Bucky’s red cheek and heard him harrumph like an old man. He wiggled his fingers threateningly at Steve when he snickered, making his engagement ring catch the sunlight and sparkle brilliantly, throwing the pattern all over the cab interior. “Careful, chuckles. You want me to blind you with my engagement ring?”
He actually looked excited at the prospect, dear god.
Maybe Bucky was happy just to be waving it around, seeing the effect it had in the bright sunlight, and Steve filled with pride at how much he obviously loved it. “I don’t know, Dorothy,” he teased, a smile on the corners of his lips. “I thought your weapons of choice were houses and water?”
Bucky smiled beatifically at him then, and leaned in to whisper seductively in Steve’s ear. “That’s right, scarecrow. I can sit down on you and make you melt.”
Steve couldn’t even be offended at the direct implication that he didn’t have a brain, because his brain might as well have been straw for all the good it did as he tried not to get hard, as desperately aroused as he suddenly was.
“Oh, are you fucking kidding me?” Bucky abruptly snarled, snapping Steve out of it, but not exactly killing his arousal or diminishing his growing erection. “This the last time I ever take a fucking cab. I am buying a car, and I don’t care if it’s a piece of shit like what you were driving, but I am not riding in a cab ever again.”
Steve blinked at him in bewilderment, glancing at the taxi driver, who was either completely deaf or just beyond caring.
“What, what is it?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes and raised his foot, showing Steve the bottom of his ballet flat. The thing that incurred Bucky’s wrath was a wad of bright pink gum stuck to the bottom, right on the heel.
“Oh, ew,” Steve grimaced in disgust. His erection was no more, but he couldn’t even be that thankful because he was now very aware of how many germs and people had been inside the cab.
“It’s motherfucking gum because nobody ever bothers to fucking throw away their trash in a goddamn trash can like a civilized fucking human being, and if no one cleans up after such shitty people, that means they’re equally as shitty.” He directed this to the cab driver, hissing, who still acted completely oblivious, not even blinking at him.
Steve was quite impressed (and also disappointed) with the driver’s ability to either not notice or just simply ignore Bucky’s rage fueled rant. Steve completely agreed with Bucky. Littering was just terrible, and back before war, he’d gotten into a bunch of fights over it. In the future, it just wasn’t the same, people apologizing for littering if Steve caught them. Going all Captain America on them made up for not being able to get into a fight, though. The guilt trip from Captain America was effective, to say the least.
Needless to say, Steve was very grateful when they rolled to a stop outside their destination. Bucky paid the driver with a scowl and only gave a one hundred percent tip instead of the usual four or five hundred percent tip that he usually did.
He was not very frugal at all, but he didn’t have to be, what with all the compensation from hydra’s missing funds that he liberated from them somehow. He was probably richer than Tony Stark, since there were many, many places that hydra had been hiding their money. Billionaires and millionaires had contributed to it in secret, wanting to be on top when the world fell, consolidating their own wealth into the enormous fortune that had amassed through the years. When hydra fell, so did they. When Bucky robbed hydra, he robbed them. Steve was so very glad Bucky had it, because if there was one person more deserving of it, they clearly were a myth, because the only person who was deserving of it was the man that hydra had in its clutches all those years, torturing and brainwashing him.
Punk gave a little growling bark from within the basket purse as they got out of the taxi, probably just excited, and the driver must have heard it, because he started yelling at them, rolling down his window. His Indian accent was thick and added extra oomph to his screaming.
“You trick me! No dogs! My cab does not allow dogs, especially small hiding purse dogs. I will not be serving you again. No dogs. They are very unclean, dirty and smelly!”
Bucky whirled around as they were walking away, furious. His voice was a snarl. “Oh, you heard that tiny little harmless bark but not me ranting and cursing about the fucking gum I stepped in in your fucking backseat? I take it you also missed the part about how it’s part of the cab driver’s moral responsibility to provide a reasonably clean environment for their passengers, you stupid fuck. Which means picking up after their shitty customers that do immoral shit like tossing gum out on the floor of the backseat. And fuck you, my dog is nice!” Before Steve could stop him, Bucky had slipped off his shoe and thrown it after the cab that had started wisely speeding away. It hit the taillight – breaking the plastic open and shattering the bulb within – and part of the back bumper, causing a small but deep dent that was impressive, given how lightweight the shoe probably was and the force Bucky had to hurl it with to cause the damage. Some of the yellow paint had even chipped. Steve was glad Bucky had aimed at the bumper and not the window, since he probably would have killed the driver.
He looked around wildly, but most people seemed to be smiling at Bucky, amused, or nodding in approval. No one seemed too afraid, just a little wary like Bucky was having a bad day.
Speaking of which…
“You pick on Toto, you get apples thrown at your goddamn yellow brick,” Bucky growled as he hopped awkwardly over to where his shoe had landed on the sidewalk. “How do you like them apples?”
“Buck?” Steve asked, a bit wary, himself. Bucky shot him a loaded glance. He gulped nervously before continuing. “Are you… okay? You seem a little… bit more wound up than usual. Is it because of the engagement?” His brows drew together in his sudden worry.
Bucky shook his head. “It’s about the goddamn gum. And the tweet… and our relationship.”
Steve’s stomach dropped all the way into another dimension.
“What do you mean?” he heard himself ask from very far away. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he felt like he was going to faint again.
“Jesus, Steve, I ain’t mean it like that. Calm down before you have a heart attack.”
He went a little lightheaded with relief and swayed on his feet. Bucky took his elbow and led Steve into the restaurant, which was an Asian fusion place that was very crowded.
He chose to sit on the same side of the booth that Bucky did, just so they could talk amongst themselves with a degree of intimacy. They ordered their drinks and food at the same time, getting a mix of almost everything, it seemed like.
Steve cleared his throat when their waitress left, turning to Bucky, who was admiring his ring again, watching it catch the rays of the sun and sparkle brilliantly.
“Um, you said…” he began nervously, not sure how to put it, “that you were wound up because of our relationship. What did you mean?”
Bucky sighed heavily, doing nothing to assuage the dread that had decided to fester up despite Bucky's reassurance that he didn’t mean it like that. Instead of replying right away, Bucky pulled out his phone.
Steve watched curiously as he navigated to twitter, clicking on his most recent post, the one he posted last night.
Bucky slid the phone over to him, and he took another look. It still said the same thing, and still had those two nonsensical horse and eggplant emojis after the text, and the long string of them under it. Steve furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be staring at. Maybe it was the several thousand likes and retweets combined that he had?
“This is the tweet that I tweeted last night, when I was drunk outta my mind,” Bucky explained unnecessarily.
When Steve only blinked at him, Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at him, frustrated.
“So?” Steve wondered innocently, wanting Bucky to stop looking at him like that.
“What do you mean, ‘so’?” Bucky wondered sharply in return, getting angry again. Steve took a deep breath.
“Bucky, I really don't understand why you're so…" he trailed off, not wanting to make him angrier.
“Oh my god, how are you so thick?” Bucky muttered to himself. He kept his voice low and subdued as he explained. “People are definitely going to make the connection between my saying that I wanna get fucking railed by my Daddy and being literally the only person that you follow and otherwise interact with on the entire platform. You had your likes public and you liked all of my tweets, for crying out loud! At least one person is going to know it’s you: the black widow. I said that my daddy had a horse cock, and Captain America follows me exclusively. I'm Twitter famous because of you now. I now have over a million followers because of that tweet. Someone is bound to suspect something because not everyone is as dumb as you. Jesus Fucking Christ.”
“You told them I had a horse cock?” Steve’s voice was high and strangled, his face volcanic, his mind reeling from that tidbit that it had gotten snagged on. That must have been what the horse and eggplant emojis meant. He felt mortified.
A waitress that was going by stumbled and almost tripped, shooting them both a scandalized look and glancing down at Steve’s lap, to his utter mortification. His face went even hotter, if that was possible, and he covered himself reflexively. She ducked her head, her cheeks red as she quickly scurried away. Steve turned back to Bucky with wild eyes, wanting to hear the explanation.
Bucky didn’t look at him, and his voice was small when he spoke. “Yeah. I'm sorry. I was too drunk and happy with getting engaged to use any sort of restraint like I normally do. I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to out us.”
It looked like Bucky was going to cry, he was so ashamed, and Steve’s heart hurt for him and he rushed to comfort him, realizing Bucky was more angry at himself than at Steve. “No, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, laying a hand on Bucky’s bare thigh. “We’re going to get married. Even if it’s in the middle of the night and you're wearing a ski mask. People are going to know eventually. I just want it to be on our own terms, not while in public and then being mobbed. We can do it gradually. Over twitter, even,” Steve said, trying to cheer him up.
Bucky perked up a little, peering up at him with his big doe eyes. “Yeah? You're not mad?”
Steve shook his head. “Not really. Not even knowing what those horse and eggplant emojis mean.” His cheeks still felt red, thinking about it.
Bucky slumped a little in relief and gave him a smile. Steve beamed at him, happy that their relationship was still intact.
“Um, about those wedding plans,” Bucky said sheepishly a few minutes later after they received their appetizers, drawing Steve’s attention. “I don’t actually wanna be married like that.”
“Oh good,” Steve said, sagging in relief. “Because I, uh, sort of already formed an idea of what I wanted our wedding to be like. I wanted it to be a bit more special than doing it in the middle of the night. Here, I have them written down in my phone.” He wiped his hands and grabbed it out of his pocket and turned it on, hesitating before actually giving it to Bucky. “Um, I know that it’s sort of… the bride’s thing to plan it. Not that you're going to be the bride. And not that you're not going to be bride,” he babbled, overcorrecting. He cringed at himself. “Sorry. I just meant that you should probably be the one planning most of it, since you're so… stylish and fashionable.” His face in flames again, he shoved the phone at Bucky, keeping his eyes on the table as Bucky took it and looked at the ideas he’d written down.
Too late, Steve realized how embarrassing they were, and kept his eyes firmly on the table.
Get married to him as soon as possible so you can finally call him your husband. Timetable goal: one or two weeks. Longer if you stay in vegas longer. But not too long because of your anxiety.
Get a HUGEHUGEHUGE diamond ring because Bucky deserves the best. Must be big, absolutely blinding. Get natasha to send you more money if there’s not enough to pay for the best ring. Get it engraved with to the end of the line.
Don’t fuck up the proposal speech. Keep it short and simple. But also tell him how much you’ve loved him since you were boys. Tell him how much you love him now, no matter how he dresses, acts, or identifies. Or how he has the worst/best little dog. Do not mention ANYTHING about Bucky's death or his winter soldier days or when he tried to kill you. Do. Not. Cry.
Pay for the dinner. must be very high class because Bucky deserves it. wine him and dine him and try not to throw up. If he thinks the food is disgusting and wants hamburgers instead, go get them!!! Dance with him too, if he wants to. Don’t step on his feet!!!!!!!
Pay for his wedding dress because Bucky simply CANNOT pay for his own. Must be expensive. Or whatever dress he likes. And jewelry to go with it if he wants it. oh god. Definitely get Natasha to send you some more money then.
Get married in a small, intimate ceremony at one of those cute little chapels.
Get a bouquet from flower section in Walmart to save money. Pink roses, maybe. Or something else cute, like daisies. Do they make pink daisies? Try to stealthily figure out what Bucky’s favorite flower is and get it.
Punk can be the ring bearer/flower girl. Buy a suit or dress for him. oh god you have to get rings.
Go to pawn shop and buy a gold band there for yourself and maybe they’ll have some suits there too. Go rent one if you can't find any. Must be a good suit and go with Bucky’s dress. Get Bucky’s ring from a jewelry store. Get it engraved too? Do people have two engraved rings? What should I put on the other one? Should it be different?
Casino buffet to save even more money and so you don’t have to fuck with catering. Unless Bucky wants that. Fuck with catering if Bucky wants it!! or maybe he’ll appreciate the chance to show off his dress if we do the buffet.
MUSIC. very important. must be good. Or whatever Bucky likes. Find a good dj or rent a jukebox or something. Maybe you can use Bucky’s phone and connect to a speaker somehow? Create a playlist for wedding/reception. At last by etta james should be on it. oh god I’ll cry. Don’t cry when you dance with him! youll look dumb and youll make him look bad and he’ll hate you for it.
Bucky will probably want a small reception, so you won't have to mess with very much else. No frills, no fuss. Unless Bucky wants it. oh god what if Bucky wants a huge wedding with all of my friends and coworkers there? Sam and natasha are my other best friends, so try to persuade Bucky to limit it to only them if he wants me to have all my friends there. Should I invite natasha if Bucky doesn’t like her? Try to stealthily find out if he would be okay with her there.
Near the end there, Steve had been thinking out loud more than he’d been listing stuff and he blushed a bit more. Bucky raised his eyebrows, his lips pursed with the smile he was trying to unsuccessfully suppress.
“I think your plans are great, if a little… poorly communicated.” He shook with silent laughter.
Steve perked up. “Yeah?” he wondered nervously. “I'm open to changing them. You probably want something different. I don’t mind. It’s your wedding too. You're the-” he stalled on the word bride, not sure if it was correct or not.
“Bride,” Bucky supplied, smiling, and Steve relaxed.
“Yeah, you're the bride. The center of attention. I just figured that you’d wanna make a few changes.”
Bucky shook his head. “No, I'm fine with whatever you come up with. Takes a load off of me,” he joked.
Oh. Right. Now Steve had to handle everything. His stomach clenched with anxiety. What if he fucked it up?
“You have it easy,” Bucky told him reassuringly. “Your plans are pretty straightforward and easy to take care of. There’s no, like, trying to decide between two shades of lilac that are very slightly different, fussing with RSVPs, and booking a certain venue or other shit like that. And I’ll be there to help you with it all. It’s our wedding.”
When Bucky put it that way, Steve wasn’t nervous at all, but excited.
Bucky shot him a ferocious glare just then. “But I'm not letting you buy your own ring from a pawn shop, or let rent your own wedding suit, good god, Steve.”
Steve laughed at him, shaking his head. “Okay, fair enough. I won't do that. Flowers from Walmart still okay?” he wondered, a little concerned.
Bucky smirked. “Sure, get me whatever they have there. We’ll dry the bouquet and keep ‘em. I’ll even put together a playlist for us on my phone to blare out. And, uh, Sam and Natasha can come too. They can be your bridesmaids and best men and stand around awkwardly while we get hitched.”
Steve smiled at him, chuckling. “Aren’t bridesmaids for the bride?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh, be quiet. Punk can multitask. I’ll have to find him the cutest little outfit.”
With a dopey grin, Steve turned back to his food. They ate in peaceful silence, looking at each other and giggling every so often, which Bucky pretended to be annoyed by, his adorable little smile giving him away every time. They shared a banana split for dessert, and Bucky tied a knot in the cherry stem, and had to explain to Steve the significance of it when he showed it off to him.
“I already knew you were a good kisser, Buck. Didn’t need no cherry stem to tell me that.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled him in for a kiss, which Steve eventually ruined by smiling.
They left after that, and after Bucky consulted his phone, they set off for the Saks store where they had a huge selection of designer shoes.
The experience was disappointing yet fruitful, since Saks didn’t have any ruby slippers, but it did have a few cute heels that Bucky liked enough to buy. He modeled each of them for Steve, who nearly passed out at the sight, thinking about Bucky wearing those and nothing else.
They went to Neiman Marcus after, with no ruby slippers and a few more pairs of shoes to show for it. Bergdorf goodman was where they struck gold. Or ruby, as it were. They were rhinestone stiletto pumps with bows on the toe part like in the movie, and they sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight as they walked down the street, with Steve happily carrying all of Bucky’s bags. The basket purse was open and Punk’s little head was sticking out.
They had happened to find a glittery red bow hairclip that Bucky immediately bought and clipped it to Punk’s collar on the little strap after the buckle that held the part of his collar that stuck out, so the bow would be horizontal and not vertical. It also glittered in the sunlight, and Steve thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Next to Bucky, of course. It was just too bad that Steve couldn’t show him how much he liked it, since he was liable to get his hand bitten off.
Every eye was drawn to them, and Bucky practically strutted down the sidewalk, absolutely feelin’ himself, as he had said to Steve. Steve wanted to swoon. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of Bucky and those goddamn shoes.
They were on the way to a classic car dealership that Bucky had looked up on his phone, forgoing a taxi again. It left Bucky the perfect opportunity to flaunt his outfit.
“Um, I like your outfit,” a girl of maybe fifteen blurted out as they walked around her, passing her.
Bucky perked up. “Thanks!”
“Yours too,” the girl said to Steve as she flushed red. “I think it’s cute how you match. Um, have a good day.”
Then she fled before either of them could respond and Bucky grinned widely after her, and when he turned his smile to Steve, it went soft around the edges. Bucky took his arm again and then decided to hold his hand, and Steve smiled, squeezing it affectionately, feeling his engagement ring.
They walked down the street like that to their destination until Bucky gasped loudly and stopped in his tracks.
“Holy shit, it’s perfect,” he said and then pulled away from Steve and went to the window of a shop they were next to, his face pressed to the glass. “Stay outside and don’t look. Start making our wedding playlist or something,” he ordered before he went inside, leaving Steve reeling at what just happened.
He logged into Bucky’s YouTube account to do just that, for lack of anything better to do. There was nothing better to do: creating their wedding playlist was paramount to anything Steve could have done to pass the time.
First on the list was At Last by Etta James, then Moon River by Frank Sinatra. Then, after thinking about it a little, Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Judy Garland, since it was sort of already on the forefront of his mind, feeling like it was appropriate and especially fitting for them. He wracked his brain for more, but was stalled with a grand total of three songs, something he blurted to Bucky when he returned a few minutes later, a bag in his hand.
Bucky blinked, and then snorted at him, shaking his head. “Only you, Stevie. Only you could think of just three songs. What are they?”
Steve glanced away, his voice a mumble, “At Last, Moon River, and Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
Predictably, Bucky started laughing, almost choking on it, and Steve blushed, feeling very embarrassed. “Oh, Steve, I love it. You did a good job. It’s a nice start,” Bucky told him sincerely after his laughter had died down, making Steve's chest squeeze.
Pleased, Steve grinned at him, wide and cheesy.
“So, what’s in the bag?” he asked as they continued on towards their destination.
Bucky glanced at him. “It’s a suit for you to wear at dinner tonight. It’s a surprise.”
His tone booked no guessing or trying to wheedle it out of him, so Steve just kissed his cheek, a bit shy. “Thank you.”
Bucky’s fake blush grew darker and Steve smirked to himself. He couldn’t wait for tonight.