The Fourth of July
You woke up late the morning of America’s birthday. All training sessions had been cancelled in favour of the preparations for Steve’s 98th birthday party. Despite many complaints from Tony, the team had decided to not serve Meals on Wheels for dinner and decorate the bunker with cut outs of wheelchairs and walking frames and instead decided on a very classic, simple and Steve theme; Red, white and blue.
After showering and getting yourself a late breakfast, you wandered through the compound into the garden out the front. The singe mark from Thor’s constant dimension-hopping was still proudly defacing Tony’s immaculate lawn. You found Natasha and Sam quickly, as they were positioning a few picnic tables next to each other and Tony was using the Iron Man suit to erect a metal tent scaffold above them.
“What can I do to help?” you asked happily, hair swinging from side to side as you bounced over to your friends.
“Lights” Natasha grunted as she pulled a large wooden table into position. Looking around you noted a few large boxes sitting innocently on the green grass. You pulled the top of the cardboard boxes off to reveal a hundred strands of tangled lights. Groaning loudly you shoved your fist into the mess and hauled them out of the box.
“Really, Natasha?” you asked incredulously, gesturing to the hanging ball of tangled strings. She looked at you blankly, but you swear you saw the corner of her lip twitch slightly before she stopped the smirk.
“You’re an Avenger, (Y/N). You can handle some party lights”
“I’ll handle you later” you grumbled to yourself as you plopped down onto the soft grass and began your arduous task.
Many hours later you were standing on the grass with the rest of your team mates and a few of the other staff that didn’t already have Fourth of July plans and had accepted the invitation. You had changed out of your leggings and hoodie and put on something much more party appropriate. The night was warm and pleasant, so you’d chosen your favourite red party dress that stopped a few inches above your knee and matching red sandals. You’d gently curled your hair and put a little extra effort into your makeup today. Not like there was anyone in particular that you wanted to impress.
No.
Not at all.
Or at least that was what you told yourself when you first walked into the party. But when you saw a particular super soldier wearing navy slacks and a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his long brown hair tied into a neat bun at the back of his neck you lost all pretence.
Your heart rate quickened and a blush coloured your cheeks but instead of going up and talking to your team mate, you skirted around the group until you located the cooler filled with alcohol. Finding the wine that you’d strategically placed in there a few hours ago, you poured yourself a drink and went off in search of Steve.
“Happy birthday!” you cried when you found your friend. Steve grinned, wrapping his strong arms around you in a tight hug as you kissed him on the cheek.
“Thanks, (Y/N)” he smiled down at you. “You look pretty”
“You sure do” came a deeper voice from over your shoulder and you startled before turning around. Bucky was standing behind you, that characteristic smirk on his handsome face. Your heart faltered slightly as you looked into his storm grey eyes.
“You look nice too” you managed to choke out. If you’d turned around you would have seen Steve shaking his head with a mocking smirk on his face. Your eyes remained fixed on Bucky, and Steve took this opportunity to disappear into the rest of the attendees. “Where’s your red?” you asked, noting the lack of the third colour.
With a grin Bucky lifted up the leg of his pants revealing bright red socks.
“And I see that you’re lacking in blue” he noted.
“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it ain’t there, Barnes” you teased. He looked at you, confusion evident on his face. With a smug grin you hooked a thumb under the thick strap of your dress and pulled it off your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes popped slightly as he took in the pale blue bra strap that sat against your soft skin. “Cat got your tongue, Buck?” you quipped, taking another sip of the alcohol that had emboldened you as you replaced your dress. Bucky chuckled and your heart fluttered in your chest.
“Come on, I need to show you Tony’s Uncle Sam outfit” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder and leading you through the crowd. Your skin burnt where it touched his. The desire to reach up and grab his hand pulled at your brain but you shoved your hand into the pocket of your dress instead.
You and Bucky spent the whole night by each other’s side and he was proving to be exactly the gentleman that you though he was; refreshing your drink, getting you a burger from the barbecue before you even had a chance to ask and even finding a jacket when you complained that the night was getting colder.
The two of you sat on the grass, each holding one of the cupcakes Wanda had baked for the night. Bucky had selected one with Steve’s shield on it and you had picked the last one with the American flag. Looking up you could see the stars dotting the inky black sky, shining brightly above you like a hundred tiny diamonds.
“The lights look great, by the way” Bucky stated, licking some of the icing off the top of his dessert. You looked at him quizzically, taking a small bite of your cake. “I saw you on the lawn untangling them for two hours”
“And you didn’t come down and help? Not cool, Buck” you mockingly reprimanded but he simply shrugged.
“You’re a superhero, you can handle some tangled lights”
“That’s what Natasha said!” you exclaimed “bloody insensitive Russians” you grumbled, eliciting a snort of laughter from Bucky. You opened your mouth to further tell him off for not helping you when a loud boom echoed across the skies. You jumped, your eyes shooting to the sky. You relaxed when you saw red and white fireworks glittering across the darkness.
“Oh, it must be midnight” you murmured more to yourself that Bucky, but when you turned to your companion your stomach fell.
Bucky was frozen.
The cupcake he had been enjoying was now crushed in a tight fist, icing spilling over his flesh hand. His eyes were unfocussed and panicked.
“Shit!” you exclaimed, clambering onto your knees and throwing yourself into his lap. Your legs fell either side of his thighs as your hands came to gently grasp his face. “Bucky. Bucky, look at me” you begged but his gaze went through you. You could feel his legs beginning to shake underneath you.
Your heart beat thundered in your ears, mixing with the booms of the fireworks above you. The rest of the group were captured in the awe of the visual spectacle, completely ignorant to Bucky’s panic.
“James Buchanan Barnes, look at me” you commanded, and with a small sigh of relief you saw Bucky’s eyes focus momentarily on you before his pupils constricted and you lost him again. “James, you’re safe. They’re just fireworks. No one’s trying to hurt you. No one ever will hurt you while I’m around” you rambled desperate to capture his attention again. He reacted to your words, and you managed to hold him for a few seconds longer. “Sam once stole your tooth brush and used it to clean Redwing” you blurted out, desperate for anything that might pull him out of his panic. “I found a ‘dating for dummies’ book under Vision’s bed. Steve once cried because Tony ate the last of the christmas cookies” you were grasping at straws here, but the new information was working. With every secret Bucky’s eyes focussed more and more on you. The shaking of his thighs was lessening with the gentle strokes of your thumbs against his cheeks. “I’ve had a massive crush on you ever since we met” the words seemed to fall out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop them and you immediately blushed bright red, but you couldn’t let your embarrassment get in the way of helping Bucky. “I think you’re kind, gentle, handsome, chivalrous and the best man I’ve ever met”
The fireworks above you were lessening, and Bucky was relaxing slightly. But that only meant one thing - a finale. As if on cue a barrage of explosives decorated the sky, endless booms enveloping the lawn. You grasped Bucky’s face tightly in your hands and pressed your lips to his. You felt his body startle under your touch, but after a moments pause he reacted.
He kissed you back.
His hands relaxed and rested themselves on your waist, holding you gently but firmly. The softness of his lips overwhelmed you as he pulled you closer to his chest and your skin seemed to almost sear as it brushed against his. Bucky deepened the kiss before pulling away, leaving you out of breath. You leant your forehead against his, drinking in the blue of his eyes.
“I got cupcake on your dress” Bucky breathed out. You tore yourself away from his flushed face to look at your side, and sure enough; red, white and blue vanilla cupcake was smeared on the red fabric.
“It’s okay” you shrugged, leaning in to kiss him softly again, but he pulled away after only a moment.
“No, it’s really not. That could stain, we better get you out of it” he murmured cheekily, pupils blown with lust. You giggled nervously, cheeks turning even more pink.
“Didn’t realise you cared so much about my clothes, Bucky” you giggled and he snorted derisively.
“I don’t give a shit about your dress, doll. I want to see the rest of that underwear. The thought of its been driving me crazy all night”
You giggled slightly self consciously, but slowly got to your feet. Your legs were quivering in anticipation, but you offered Bucky your hand. He cocked an eyebrow and you smirked in response.
“Want your answers or not?” you asked enticingly and he grinned widely.
“You bet your ass, doll” he murmured before sliding his hand into yours. The fire returned to your flesh and your hand burnt in his, but it was your face that was burning next as his hand slipped from yours as you walked towards the residential area. He snaked his hand down your lower back until it came to rest on the swell of your ass.
With a racing heart you let him lead you to his room, leaving your friends chatting underneath the twinkling fairy lights.