Work Text:
The ring box is made of solid walnut, understated yet so precious . Bucky doesn’t know how long he’s been rolling it in his hands, quietly sitting as he waits for Sam to come back from his bathroom break. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done and the situation triggers his fight or flight instinct like no other. His heart does olympic worthy loops and his foot jiggles with anticipation.
For a split second, Bucky even wonders if his boyfriend has already understood what the real purpose of their date night is about, and created a diversion to walk away. But he knows Sam is not a coward. On the other hand, Bucky has been one for a long time. Didn’t feel tough enough for this love and tried to bury his feelings until Sam confronted him about it, four years ago.
Bucky has been thinking about marriage for a long time but the timing never felt right. The vigilante justice job was taxing and difficult to reconcile with a domestic life. Now, Sam is working with SHIELD but the job is less of a threat. He’s part of the new recruits training programs. As for Bucky, he’s completely retired.
He sucks in a sharp breath before letting his eyes roam over the rest of the room. It’s a fairly quiet Wednesday night for a tropical themed restaurant as popular as this one. There’s a small group at the fully stacked bar, no doubt to share some after work drinks, and a few other patrons are scattered haphazardly in the room.
The tables surrounding theirs are empty. Bucky saved them about a month ago to have some privacy. The exposed bulbs dangling from the high ceilings remind him of fairy lights. Potted palms take him back to his second home in Wakanda. Bucky hopes it’s a sign he’s gonna get his fairytale ending with Sam.
At the moment when he’s about to rehearse his proposal in his mind again, a soft hand brushes the unruly chocolate strands of hair that fall out of his low bun. Bucky discreetly tucks the slim ring box in the pocket of his suit then.
He inclines his head on instinct, eyes locked on Sam’s tall frame, drinking in how handsome he looks in a Jafari print suit. The emerald green is striking on his rich dark skin, and the simple white tee he wears underneath softens the refined look.
Sam flashes him a small grin before slipping in his chair.
“Sorry for taking so long, man. I think one of the patrons got a mean bowels situation.”
Bucky finally takes interest in his Firesuite, sipping at the drink to hide a smile. It’s probably not his best idea to have ordered this because the cayenne and ginger syrup make him even more feverish than he already is.
He swallows hard before taking another look at Sam, who leans forward with an open expression. He smells good, ridiculously so, making Bucky’s nostrils flare at the sweet woody notes wafting from his body.
“So…?”, Sam says, his expression open and inquisitive, “What’s the deal ?”
The words he’s been carefully crafting for months escape him suddenly so Bucky picks a piece of lint from his sleeve to save time.
“What do you mean ?”, Bucky splutters before taking another swig of Firesuite.
He carefully puts his drink on the table. The other man ignores his Commodore to keep watching Bucky intently, a slight smile curving the corner of his lips.
“I don’t know. We don’t usually dress up like this on date nights.”
“You always look gorgeous”, Bucky says out of the blue.
Sam giggles then dampens his lips. “Thanks, man. You’re cleaning up nice too. I’m really looking forward to get you out of this suit once we get home...”
There’s warm honey in his voice as he gives Bucky a shameless once-over, lingering on his neck.
He’s opened his collar and ditched the bow tie because of the stress but he’s happy his boyfriend finds it sexy.
“ Uhm …”, Bucky starts, struggling to find the right pathway to the question.
“Yes ?”
He tugs at the collar of his shirt, ears perking at the sound of soul jazz harmonies. His next sentence is lost in an enthusiastic applause and ever so graceful, Sam is one of the last people to keep clapping hands.
“These guys are amazing”, he says with a wistful look at the stage.
Bucky’s hand freezes on his way to retrieve the ring box. When Sam turns his head to him again, he simply adjusts the lapels of his jacket.
He clears his throat but his voice still comes out abrupt and a little high.
“You okay ?”
Sam angles his head, arching a brow. “Yeah. Why are you asking ? Are you okay ? You sound like you have a cold.”
Bucky bows his neck, feeling the light weight of the box in his pocket. It’s safe. There’s nothing to worry about. Sam deserves to enjoy himself a little more before Bucky springs his proposal on him. And to be honest, Bucky could use to relax too.
The stage overlooks an empty dance floor which extremities are lit with molten gold.
He makes his decision.
His chair scrapes against the hardwood floor as he stands up. He brings his broad frame in front of Sam and offers his vibranium hand for him to take then. Sam looks a little taken aback but still entwines his hand with Bucky’s.
There was a time when Bucky would have been self conscious about dancing in public, even more so with another man as a partner. Not anymore. They both reach the dance floor with complicit smiles, taking in the singer’s honeyed voice. And Bucky’s world narrows down to Sam the minute the other man wraps his hand about his biceps.
“I’m leading this time", Bucky says, cupping Sam’s shoulder blades. Then he brings both their arms up, clasping their hands together in a tight and loving hold.
They find the beat easily, swaying in tandem, lost in each other’s gaze.
“Since when do you know how to slow dance like this huh”, Sam says.
Bucky lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. “I’ve always known how to dance. You just caught me out of practice last time”, he smiles.
He doesn't tell that he also practiced dutifully with their wedding day in mind.
Sam hums at his answer. “You’re doing great. Just skip the dipping though, my back still hurts from that one time”
Bucky gives a fond chuckle, pivoting on his heel to turn their bodies around. Sam’s brows raise at that.
“Oh, that’s how it is ?”, he smiles.
Bucky bends to put his forehead against his. There’s still a flame in between them but it’s less urgent and more subdued as they lazily shift from one foot to another. He breathes in the scent and warmth of them.
“That’s how it is. It’s the only way left for me to spice it up now. Got any complaints ?”
Sam shakes his head, whispers a “none” against Bucky’s mouth before pressing a gentle peck there. Bucky lingers, of course, and Sam has to throw his head back with a laugh to keep the dance family friendly.
There will be more time for that later , Bucky muses.
In the corner of his eye, he makes out a few other pairs hitting the floor as the slow beat turns to something with more vitamin. Something like a swing with a modern twist.
I can't stop shakin'
The room has a groove and the floor
It's almost earthquakin'
Uhuh
Sam inches backwards. He starts tapping his foot and clapping his hands to the rhythm of the song. Lifts his chin to challenge Bucky.
Bucky giggles but his arms remain at his sides for a moment, and he simply nods his head to the beat while watching Sam roll his shoulders and hips.
He shakes his head in disbelief, a grin plastered on his face, trying to hide the fact seeing Sam so happy shakes him to his core.
His boyfriend starts dancing around him then.
“Come on, Buck. Back it up .”
Sam coaxes him with an nudge to the elbow , and it doesn’t take long for Bucky shake his body too. His moves are tentative at first but he gains more confidence as the music progresses, twisting like a carousel.
From the middle to the top to the end
Ba dlu dla dlun dloday
Ba dlu dla dlun dloday
Back to the middle to the front to the end
They spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking and enjoying fine delicacies. By the time, Bucky is ready to make his proposal, the restaurant has already emptied and the only few people left are part of the staff.
His movements are feverish when he pulls out the small wooden box. The lid is engraved with delicate wings, as a nod to Sam’s journey as Falcon, and Bucky got the jewel shipped to America from an Irish jeweler, honoring his roots in the best way he can.
Bucky doesn’t miss the way Sam’s eyes go round at the sight of the ring. The way recognition dawns on his face and his hand freezes on the path to his his half empty glass of wine.
From this moment on, the words spill out of Bucky’s lips like a flood.
“Sam, I know we haven’t talked about this much before but I’m done denying myself. You taught me to be a little selfish before. I wanna do right by you. If you have me...If...If you could see yourself growing old with me, I’m ready to cherish you forever. Yeah, I want us to have a forever, angel.”
He stands up with confidence, certain in doing the right thing though his knees get a little weak with how much he loves this man.
Sam’s mouth parts slightly open as Bucky bends one knee.
Bucky’s flesh hand reaches for his wrist. The room is still save for the hushed whispers coming from the bar.
“Samuel Thomas Wilson…”, he says, a flush creeping up his face.
“ Yes .”
Bucky stills then huffs a little damp chuckle.
“Let me do this right, love. I got a whole monologue ready.”
“Sorry. I’ll shut up”, Sam splutters, balling his fist and bringing it to his mouth.
Bucky looks down at the silver band then. It’s a traditional claddagh ring. Two hands holding a heart topped by a crown. A symbol of love, loyalty and friendship. Bucky couldn’t think of any other way to show his devotion to Sam.
“I know it’s not much but it’s as Irish as it gets and you don’t like obnoxious gifts anyway.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes blazing with intensity when they look up to Sam.
“We’ve gone through some rough times together and I hope I’ve shown how dependable I can be to you. You saved my life in so many ways, Sam.I love you. I’m in love with you . And I can’t lie and say marriage doesn’t scare me shitless but my biggest fear is walking this earth without you, without you knowing just how much you mean to me. Cause you mean a whole lot, darlin’. I want you to know that I’m yours, all yours, and this ring is a reminder of that. So please... will you marry me ?”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on Sam’s part. Bucky awaits as his love shuts his eyes.
His heartbeat speeds up in his chest. Sam’s broad and gentle hands coming to frame his face make him warm all over. He leans forward until his beautiful face and the freshness of his scent is the only thing Bucky can register.
“I love you, Bucky. I know you got me and I got you too. Always will..”
The knot of anxiety that’s been tormenting Bucky for weeks unravels then. Sam wipes tears off Bucky’s cheeks.
“And yes. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you .”
“You’re gonna marry me, angel...”, Bucky says, voice all damp and high.
Sam nods, a broad smile breaking out on his face.
“Of course I will. I’m gonna marry you, love. It’s a yes.”
Bucky wants to add something else, something clever and witty to make Sam laugh out loud. God knows he loves the sound and it always makes his chest swell with masculine pride to know he’s the one responsible for Sam’s mirth.
Still, nothing comes out but a relieved sob.
Sam immediately stoops to hug him tight. Bucky hides his face in the crook of his neck.
In the corner of his mind, he catches some faint applause but Sam whispers a litany of “ Yes ” against his cheek, interspersed by a few pecks here and then, and it’s all Bucky can do to keep his mind anchored on Earth while his heart already neighbors the stars.
At some point, Sam pulls away, leveling a teasing gaze at him.
“I like hugs and shit, man, but I’m gonna need this ring on my finger at once."
Bucky kisses him until that smug little grin melts.