4552 words
Steve blinked against the sun in his eyes, and when he opened them, he saw Bucky’s sweet face right in front of his own, staring at him unblinkingly, smiling widely.
“If I didn’t love you so much, Buck, I’d think you were creepy,” Steve mumbled to him.
Bucky snorted. “You and everyone else in the world, Rogers.” Then he leaned in and gave Steve a soft, gentle kiss. “We have time for a slow and gentle quickie before we have to leave and get breakfast somewhere before we go to the spa then go get my dress then come back here and get dressed and all dolled up and then get married,” he murmured against Steve’s lips.
Steve pulled back. “We have to do all that? Is there even time for a - a slow and gentle quickie?” He felt his face get red at the question.
“Well, yeah,” he responded, “We’ll be at the spa for the majority of the day. We get married at four in the afternoon and it’s nine now. We have plenty of time.” He shifted Steve on top of him, winding his legs around Steve's waist. “Now c’mon, let’s make love, Stevie,” he said, grinning.
Steve was helpless to resist.
They did it slow and soft, and kissed when they came at the same time. It was perfect, like something out of a movie.
Bucky took Punk out and had a cigarette while Steve got ready. Something was bugging Steve, like they had forgotten something.
“Hey Buck,” Steve asked him as they pulled into the restaurant where they were getting breakfast, making Bucky look over to him. “Did… did we forget something?”
Bucky’s brows drew together in thought. “For the wedding? No, I don’t think so. I'm pretty sure we did everything we needed to –” his eyes went wide with panic and Steve gripped the back of the seat.
“What, what is it?”
Bucky closed his eyes slowly. “Your friends. The invitations. We forgot to invite –”
“Sam and Natasha,” Steve finished, a lead weight sinking into his gut.
“Yeah. Come on, you can call them from inside the restaurant,” Bucky told him as he tugged his hand, leading him out of the car.
Steve waited until they were seated and had ordered before dialing Natasha’s number.
She picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”
Steve winced. She only said hello if she was mad and pretending not to know who was calling her. “Uh, hi, Natasha. It’s me. Steve.” He winced again.
“Steve? Steve who? Surely not Steve Rogers who would never wait this long to call his friend and update her on how his search has been going. From a certain someone’s twitter account, it’s been going quite well, I see.”
Steve gulped. “Uh. Yeah. It has. Look, I'm so sorry. I just got all caught up in – in finally seeing him and I just got distracted and forgot.”
There was only silence on the other end, and Steve cast about for something to say. “I, uh… I know a way I can make it up to you. Come to my wedding?”
He cursed himself for making it sound like a question. Natasha hummed noncommittally. “Be a bridesmaid?” he tried again, wanting to sweeten the pot. Bucky shot him a look.
“Ah. A bridesmaid. Such a pitiful role.”
“Maid of honor?”
Bucky glared at him, shaking his head frantically. Steve looked away, pretending he didn’t see.
“Where and when is it?”
Steve sagged in relief. “It’s at the Cupid’s Chapel on Belmont Street in Las Vegas Nevada at four p.m. Today.” He winced again.
There was a long silence before she eventually responded, probably just to make him nervous. “I’ll be there. What wedding gift should I bring? Never mind, I’ll figure it out myself,” she said, cackling before hanging up, imbuing him with a sense of dread.
Bucky was staring daggers at Steve, and he shrugged defensively.
“Well, you wanted me to invite them!”
“Yeah,” Bucky said, a bit too loudly. “I wanted you to invite her, not make her my damn maid of honor!”
Steve cringed. “Sorry, I'm sorry. I won't do it again.”
Bucky’s eyes were almost slits. “Steve, I will divorce you and then remarry you just to give you the opportunity to do it again, you absolute buffoon. Put you to the test.”
Steve perked up, hopeful. “But you’ll remarry me?”
He received an eyeroll in response, and it looked too fond to be insulting.
Now the next invitation.
With sweaty palms, he dialed Sam’s number from memory, so nervous that he had the wrong number the first time.
Hey Sam,” Steve said nervously into his phone, glad he had gotten his voicemail. “I'm in Las Vegas. Sorry I haven’t called you in a while and updated you and caught up and all…” he trailed off awkwardly, and Bucky poked him, giving him a pointed look. “Oh, right. So, I'm getting married later on today at four at the Cupid’s Chapel on Belmont Street.” He winced at how blunt it sounded. “And I want you to be my best man. I’ve already called Natasha, and she’ll be here. She’s the maid of honor. I hope you can make it. Sorry about-”
Bucky took the phone away from him and spoke into it, his voice low and dangerous. “Ireally hope you can make it because I would hate to have to track you down and punch your skull into splinters if you aren’t here today. See you soon, one way or another.”
Steve gaped at him, aghast, as he hung up. “Bucky!”
Bucky merely glanced at him over the tops of his sunglasses, unconcerned, before turning back to his own phone.
Breakfast was good, although Steve could hardly focus on it, too nervous and excited about the day ahead of them.
The spa was a genius idea, he realized as they walked in, glancing around at the lobby where people were waiting.
Bucky had to bribe the woman behind the front desk to get admittance ahead of everyone already in line, and Steve was mainly grateful for it, even while he still felt bad, seeing all the dark looks sent their way. Another woman led them to some showers to clean themselves before any massage treatment, and Steve’s worry over Bucky’s arm was vanquished when he saw the weird strap thing that must have been a black t shirt that he sacrificed for the cause when Steve wasn’t looking. It covered his shoulder and wrapped around his chest under his right armpit, making the metal entirely invisible.
There were separate stalls, so he took it off and draped it over the door so it wouldn’t get wet. Steve showered, washing himself real well and noting the fresh razor blades that the spa had put out for them. He wondered if he should shave for their wedding night, and had a vision of accidentally castrating himself and incurring Bucky’s rage, wisely deciding against it.
The massages they had were wonderful, and Steve didn’t mind it when Bucky suggested/ordered him to flip over onto his back and have his chest massage and facial massage while Bucky had a back massage. He did the same for Steve when he was done, and Steve thought it was sweet, keeping guard while they each were vulnerable, lying on their stomachs.
Steve was in heaven, all his worries and nerves about the wedding melting away.
Bucky was a god for doing this, for getting them couple’s massages before they got married. Steve was going to fuck him so hard that night. He was going to be married to him, and Bucky was going to be his husband, his wife, and Steve’s head filled with images of what wedded bliss would be like.
He may have even dozed off, he was so relaxed.
His masseuse didn’t seem to mind; she massaged his hands and arms, and feet and legs while he laid there, slack and possibly asleep, only the faintest sense of awareness filtering through.
As he was put through treatment after treatment, he turned into putty, limp and malleable under the masseuse’s skillful hands.
He had no idea that someone could be this relaxed.
He loved massages.
And he loved Bucky for treating him to one.
At two thirty, which was when Bucky had booked the two masseurs to, Steve almost cried when Bucky informed them that they had to leave to get his wedding dress.
“Can't we just stay here for the rest of our lives?” Steve attempted, forlorn at the thought of leaving.
Bucky smiled at him. “Sure, you can stay. I guess I’ll just have to get married to one of your friends instead, so the wedding venue and everything doesn’t go to waste, you understand. It’s a pity, I was kinda lookin’ forward to marrying my soulmate, but I guess if you love something, set it free. It’s been a pleasure knowing you, doll. I’ll remember you fondly and think of you when I orgasm, whether it be by my own hand or someone else’s.”
“God, stop, stop,” Steve said breathlessly through his laughter, scandalized. “I’ll marry you, I’ll do it. Jeez, Buck. No need to scandalize everyone.”
Bucky grinned at him as he dropped his robe, and Steve was glad the masseurs had already departed.
They left for the bridal store after getting changed and paying, and greeted the saleslady happily as she perked up, immediately recognizing them. She led Bucky back to get changed, to make sure it fit properly, although it was too late to do anything about it now if it didn’t. Luckily, it fit ‘like a wet dream’, something that made Steve blush when Bucky told him as he came back, the opaque white bag holding it thrown over his arm.
Then they were headed back to the RV to properly get ready for the wedding.
“Now how do you want me to do this again?” Steve wondered, a hand on his suit bag.
Bucky rolled his eyes and patiently explained, “You get dressed and I’ll have my eyes closed. Then you put on the trench coat I got you for this very occasion, button it all the way to the top, and then put on the blindfold. Then I’ll get ready and you’ll lay down on the bed. When I'm done, I’ll lead you out to the car and then we’ll leave.”
“Why am I the only one wearing the blindfold?” he asked, indignant, smiling a little. Bucky rolled his eyes again, even more fond this time.
“Because you’ll peek, unable to help yourself, whereas I wanna be surprised so I’ll keep mine firmly shut. Now get busy, soon-to-be-Mr. Barnes,” he ordered, stealing Steve’s breath.
But still, he couldn’t resist teasing:
“Technically, according to my fake ID, I already am- oof!” he exclaimed as Bucky planted a kiss on his lips.
They kissed for a minute, and then Bucky yanked himself away, glaring at him. “Go on, get dressed. I’ll even turn around if you don’t trust me,” he said as he grabbed Punk and sat cross legged on the bed, facing the wall.
Steve glanced at him as he dressed himself, nearly tripping on his pants and braining himself on the edge of the kitchenette counter. That would have been a humiliating way to go. He stalled when he came to the bowtie, his eyes wide and his hands fumbling with it.
“Uh…” he blurted, half panicked, glancing at Bucky. How did the salesman at the store tell him to do it?
Fuck, he needed google.
“You okay, there?” Bucky called out, his tone concerned.
Steve flailed. “Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Everything’s great!” he responded, his voice too high. He fumbled with his phone and pulled up the google search app. ‘How ti tie a nowtie’ his clumsy fingers typed, and he clicked on the images, hoping that they would help.
With each time he attempted to tie the intricate knot, he progressed another step, until he became stuck on step seven, where he had to pull the other half behind the half in front. Finally, he managed something that resembled a bowtie, and he straightened it self-consciously, his cheeks as pink as his suit.
“There, I'm done,” he told Bucky, trying to infuse some sort of pride into his voice.
When Bucky answered, there was laughter. “Had a little trouble, did you?”
“Shut up,” Steve replied hotly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He moved over to the bathroom, brushing his hair back and combing through his beard.
“Put the trench coat and blindfold on if you're done,” Bucky said, pointing to it where it lay on the kitchenette counter.
Steve made sure his hair was neat, slipped on the trench coat, buttoned it all the way up, and then put on the blindfold and sat down carefully in the booth so he’d be out of Bucky’s way. “Okay I'm done. You can change now.”
“Finally.”
Steve felt his cheeks grow warm again.
A few minutes later, he heard Bucky close what he recognized as a tube of lipstick, his mind supplying the image of Bucky’s lips painted a bright pink color. Steve quickly banished the thought, not wanting to ruin the surprise of seeing him all dolled up as he walked down the aisle for the first time.
“Okay, I'm done with my makeup, moving onto my hair.”
Steve hummed, listening as Bucky’s heartrate sped up a little. “Are you having trouble?” he asked, smirking.
Bucky growled at him. “Not at all. Now will you shut the fuck up?”
Steve snorted but kept his mouth shut.
After what seemed like a long time, Bucky finally proclaimed that he was done.
“Finally,” Steve mocked.
“Now all I have to do is change Punk and switch my purse out. I wish I had a pink Birkin and not just a black one. It doesn’t match,” he whined.
“You poor baby,” Steve murmured, smiling to himself. He wanted to buy Bucky a Birkin in every color of the rainbow.
Almost before he knew it, Bucky was bustling him out the door, carefully leading him down the steps and into the Cadillac. He handed Steve the bouquet and Punk in the Birkin, and Steve was pleasantly surprised that Punk didn’t growl at him at all. It must be because of the blindfold prohibiting eye contact, which dogs took as a threat.
Throughout the short drive, Steve’s nerves built and built, until it felt like his stomach was home to a massive swarm of butterflies and he would start upchucking wings at any second. He knew when they pulled into the parking lot of the chapel because they slowed down and turned, going over a bump, the same one they went over when they went there to book the reservation.
Bucky was quiet after they parked and Steve swallowed. “What?”
After a second, Bucky spoke up. “Nothing. Let’s go get married.”
He led Steve out of the car and into the chapel, where Natasha and Sam were waiting. They greeted him happily and Steve blushed. “Hey, guys. I see you found this place. Sorry I didn’t…” he trailed off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and wishing he could see them.
“You made it up to me,” Natasha responded, sounding like she was smiling. “Nice blindfold, by the way.” Steve could tell she was laughing silently at him, and blushed hotly.
“Yeah, man, it’s fine,” Sam said easily, ignoring the second half of Natasha’s statement, to Steve’s relief. “You could have given me a little extra warning, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Then he said to Bucky, “Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you, I'm Sam Wilson. Steve here talked about you all the time.”
Bucky didn’t say anything for a minute. “Only bad things, I hope.”
Natasha laughed at him, and Steve heard her pull him into a hug.
“I-woah, y’all are just patting each other down, okay. That is a thing that is happening.”
Steve was a faintly horrified. The horror only increased as he heard a new voice pipe up.
“Jeremy? Is that you?” It sounded like an old lady. Steve whipped his head towards her, embarrassed that he didn’t hear her before.
“Um…” he said dumbly.
Sam helpfully explained. “Yeah, it’s an old lady and she’s dressed to the nines. She arrived a few minutes ago. She keeps thinking this is someone named Jeremy’s wedding, even though we tried to explain that it’s not. I think she has dementia or something. Natasha checked her out, she’s clean. We didn’t know what else to do.”
“I think she’s kind of nice,” Natasha murmured. “Sweet, in an old lady kind of way.”
Steve heard Bucky move, presumably to stand near her.
“Oh, Hillary, don’t you look beautiful!” the old lady exclaimed.
There was a shuffling noise, and then Natasha’s voice. “O.M.G., she’s hugging him.”
“The winter soldier is being hugged by a little old lady with a walker. I don’t believe it.” Sam’s voice was full of disbelief, and Steve tried to picture it. He couldn’t, but he didn’t dare lift his blindfold to see for himself.
“Um, Mrs.…” Bucky trailed off, wanting to get her name.
The old lady brushed him off. “Now, now, none of that, Hillary. You're getting married to my grandson, you’re family now. Call me Maude.”
“Ah, yes. Maude. It looks like there’s been some sort of mistake. You see, I'm not –”
A different voice interrupted them. Steve recognized it as the officiant and owner of the chapel. “Ah, I see the happy couple has arrived at last. Now, you’ll stand here,” he said, grabbing Steve’s shoulders and leading him over to where the altar was, he assumed. “And now the wedding party will line up outside the room and walk to the music and then the bride will come out as the wedding march starts. Places everyone!” he said with a clap.
Once Steve heard them all disappear, he carefully removed his blindfold, flinching a little at the bright light. He undid his trench coat and set it down near Maude, who was very old indeed. She didn’t seem to realize that he wasn’t Jeremy at all, giving him a wave and a smile. He returned it to be kind.
The music started and Sam walked slowly down the aisle, smiling at Steve. He pulled Sam into a hug, whispering how glad he was that Sam could make it. Once Sam was in place behind him, Natasha walked in, and Steve gave her the same treatment. She kissed his cheek, making him blush and her giggle, looking delighted by the way his skin probably matched his suit, given the way her eyes glanced between the two. She took her place on the other side of the aisle, standing mirrored to Sam.
Steve anxiously waited for Punk, who was next in line of precession. He saw Bucky’s hands set him down in the doorway while carefully staying hidden. He pushed on Punk’s bottom, whispering frantically to him. “Go. Go! You're the flower girl, stupid Punk. Now go!” Looking utterly bewildered and confused, Punk moved back behind Bucky, and Steve chuckled under his breath.
“Oh my god, I take back everything nice I ever said about you,” Bucky muttered, making a laugh burst out of Steve’s chest.
“Cue the bridal music,” Steve told the officiant with a smile. He received a confused look but obeyed.
His nerves skyrocketed then, when Bucky didn’t immediately appear. After a long moment, Bucky moved into view, walking towards him, Punk trailing behind.
Steve stopped breathing when he saw him. He was beautiful, gorgeous. His hair was up in a half bun with a good-sized tiara on top of his head, his long locks hanging down, inviting Steve’s hands to fist in the strands. His makeup was adorable, his eyelids a dusky pink, his eyeliner flawless, his mascara making his eyes look huge, his lips bright pink, making Steve want to kiss him. His dress looked incredible on him, fitting him perfectly. Around his neck was an intricate diamond necklace, gems sparkling in the light, like his earrings, bracelet and his anklets that were a part of his shoes. He was stunning, dazzling. Steve felt like he had just been struck down and killed by the sight of him.
When Bucky saw him, however, he stopped in his tracks and burst out into laughter. “Oh my god, you're wearing a pink suit!” he screeched, absolutely beside himself.
Oh no. Steve blanched, all the blood rushing from his face. Bucky hated it. Oh god, what had he done?
He glanced towards the exit, contemplating making a run for it, wanting to hide his face in shame. Maybe if he moved fast enough, Bucky wouldn’t be able to see him.
Bucky was suddenly in front of him, smiling at him softly as he pulled Steve into a kiss and oh. Oh. All thoughts of fleeing left his mind, then.
It was soft and perfect, and Steve ‘ruined’ it by smiling.
“I love it, punk,” Bucky murmured to him. Punk barked then, and they looked down at him. “Not you, you absolutely useless twink,” Bucky grouched down at him, smiling. “Why’d I make you flower girl, huh? You're a failure.”
Punk barked again, and they all laughed.
The officiant cleared his throat, making them sober up. Bucky turned back to Steve and took both of his hands in his own. Steve looked across to him, his lungs seizing at the tender look Bucky was giving him.
“Dearly beloved,” the officiant began.
“And Maude,” Bucky interjected, making Steve giggle.
The officiant gave them a look before continuing, “We are gathered here today to witness Steven and James joining together in matrimony. Today, they begin a union based on love, laughter, and friendship. A marriage is not a ceremony, but a big adventure built on trust and respect. Each day will hold many challenges and hardships, but together, with love, they will be able to conquer them all and remain triumphant. Does anyone know why these two should not be wed?” he addressed the room, looking at Natasha, Sam and Maude. “Speak now or forever hold your piece.”
Bucky glared at each of them, his hand hovering over his bust, where he probably had a gun or knife, dear god. No one spoke, which Steve thought was very wise.
The officiant turned to Bucky first. “Do you, James Buck Rogers, take Steven Grant Barnes as your spouse, for all of time, through sickness and in health, through poorness and in wealth, until death do you part?”
Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I do,” he said with a smile.
Steve had tears in his eyes, and he blinked them away frantically.
“Do you, Steven Grant Barnes, take James Buck Rogers as your spouse, for all of time, through sickness and in health, through poorness and in wealth, until death do you part?”
Steve nodded thickly, a lump in his throat. “I do.” It was almost inaudible. “I do,” he repeated, much louder.
Bucky laughed at him lightly, and it sounded like he was crying, too.
The officiant spoke again. “Now, do you have personal vows that you wish to recite to each other?”
Steve froze, blinking through his tears. “Vows?” he asked, absolutely horrified.
Oh dear god. They had forgotten to write vows.
“Yes, I’ve got some,” Bucky said, and Steve whipped his head back around to gape at him in shock. He looked serene, smiling at Steve, a twinkle in his eye.
“Stevie, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” he said, and Steve’s heart was almost beating too loud to hear him. “You were the only thing that could break through that thing I did when I saw you again. You brought me back from that dark, terrible place I was trapped in. You light my way through darkness, and with you, I know that I'm never alone. You are the beacon that I can't live without, that I won't live without. You are the best person I’ve ever known. You make my life complete. You are my punk. I love you ‘til the end of the line.”
Steve was sobbing softly because Bucky was a complete and total asshole that had done this on purpose just so he would look good and Steve would look dumb and god, he hated Bucky.
“You did this on purpose just so I would be caught unawares, you complete jerk,” he blubbered, beside himself. “I hate you, I really do. You're the absolute worst thing on earth and I'm so, so lucky to be able to call you mine. You're godawful, Buck. And I love you ‘til the end of the line, too. And everything else you said, as well. God, you're such an asshole.” He put his hand over his face, his shoulders shaking, wanting to break down completely. His tears were falling freely now.
Bucky stepped closer to him, and Steve peered up at him. The fucker was smiling. “Aw, Stevie. Will ya ever forgive me?” he took Steve in his arms, holding him so gently, and Steve buried his face into Bucky’s shoulder, feeling like he was going to break apart.
“Nuh-uh,” he replied, his voice muffled.
Bucky only laughed. “Not even if I spent the entire rest of our lives making it up to you?”
Steve drew back, doing his very best to glare at him. “Well, maybe.” He suspected it wasn’t that much of a glare, given that his face was still twisted with emotion and probably unattractively blotchy.
Bucky beamed at him like Steve was the best thing he’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and it was like actual pain, the force of Steve’s love that hit him square in the chest at the sight.
“Who has the rings?” the officiant suddenly wondered, breaking them out of it. Bucky bent down to get the rings that were clipped to Punk’s collar, hoisting him up to his chest. When he noticed Steve looking at him, he snarled, barking in his face, and Steve threw his head back and laughed, laughed, laughed. It enraged the little animal, making him start twisting around, trying to lunge at him, out for blood.
Everyone was laughing.
Bucky set Punk back down and they exchanged rings, smiling down and laughing at their clumsy attempts, and Steve knew Bucky was crying too.
“I now pronounce you spouses,” the officiant told them. “You may kiss.”
Their first kiss as a married couple was clumsy and indelicate, but then the angle changed and it became bliss, sheer heaven on earth.
They kissed for what seemed like a long time, and finally pulled away, smiling too much for it to be called a kiss anymore. Bucky leaned in close to whisper something into his ear. “Ask me what color my underwear is.”
Steve giggled, giddy and half scandalized. “What color is your underwear, Buck?”
Bucky let out a low, filthy chuckle. “What underwear?”
His eyes went wide with shock, and he saw a camera flash go off, capturing the moment.
It really was the perfect moment, made so by the perfect person to whom he was married.