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Bucky always did everything he could to be romantic - it was one of his favorite hobbies after he managed to get his head straight. He brought Steve flowers, breakfast in bed, gave him massages after missions,and even took Steve out for fancy dinners because he knew how much Steve loved getting him into a suit. The best part for Bucky was seeing Steve light up when he realized someone cared about making him happy.
Steve took care of Bucky, too, in his own way: giving him space when he needed it, driving him to therapy sessions, sitting on the couch for hours petting Bucky’s hair so he could get used to the feeling of being touched. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but it didn’t have to be. Steve could make Bucky feel loved just by holding back his hair while he puked after a nightmare and still wanting to kiss him later.
Making the big gestures was Bucky’s job, which he would have been more than happy to do, if Steve let him. Unfortunately, losing Bucky once made Steve a little too eager to do things right the second time around, which meant that he was willing to bare his emotions like he was willing to jump on a grenade.
Before they got together, Bucky imagined telling Steve “I love you” over an expensive steak dinner, or in Central Park, or at least while cuddled up on the couch with Steve’s big hands in his hair. Finally, he planned out a whole day that would hit every romantic hotspot in New York so he could take his time, and say it when the moment was right. Instead, Steve woke up that Saturday morning with a plan that was, like all of his plans, half-cocked and staggeringly effective.
Steve poked his head in through the half-open bathroom door while Bucky was brushing his teeth, and huddled in the doorway like it could make him look smaller.
“What?” Bucky mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste.
Steve took a steadying breath - the kind that worried Bucky because it usually meant Steve was about to jump off a tall structure without a parachute - and said, “I love you.”
Bucky froze for a moment, toothbrush still in his mouth, and tried not to let his aggravation show. Steve loved him, and that was good news, technically speaking, even if they were standing in a bathroom.
“I’m in love with you,” Steve continued, like it was important to clarify. “I think I have been all along, and I just didn’t think I could say anything. But I don’t want to just ignore it anymore, because I don’t think it’s fair to either of us -”
Bucky spit out the remaining foam and rinsed as quickly as he could, but Steve was still trying to finish his speech.
”- and I thought you should know in case it wasn’t something you were comfortable with. That way, if you want me to back off I will.”
"Steve,” Bucky interrupted, clasping a hand over his shoulder. “You look so beautiful this morning.”
Steve faltered for a moment, drumming his fingers against his low-hanging sweatpants. “Oh,” he said. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Bucky curled his left hand feather-light around Steve’s waist, and let the other slide from Steve’s shoulder down over his chest until he could feel the quickening rhythm of his heart. “Should I tell you that more often?”
“Sure,” Steve answered softly, bringing his hands around Bucky’s hips and rubbing gentle circles in the loose fabric of his t-shirt. “I mean, if you want to. If you really think that.”
Bucky proved it with a kiss, soft and warm and full of all the love Bucky had felt for the last century. It would have been a perfectly sweet, romantic first kiss, until Steve clenched his fists in the back of Bucky’s shirt, dragged their hips together, and slipped his warm, wet tongue across Bucky’s bottom lip. That was all it took for them to spend the next half an hour in the bathroom. In fact, they never got around to leaving the house that day, and Bucky couldn’t even care.
Three years passed, and somehow they never got around to properly defining their relationship.Clint called them “boyfriends,” but it seemed like a small word for two people who had loved each other, died for each other, come back to life, and loved each other all over again. Tony jokingly said they were like “soul mates,” but that just sounded stupid. Besides, Bucky couldn’t write “soul mate” on an official S.H.I.E.L.D. document, especially when they were finally signing him on as an Avenger.
He took a stealthy glace at the emergency contact form Steve was updating, where the “relationship” field was also left blank. At one point, Steve had listed Bucky as his brother when asked about his next of kin, but they’d definitely outgrown that term.
Steve caught Bucky looking, and nodded cheekily at his equally blank form. “Be funny if I just put you down as my husband, huh?”
Funny? Bucky gaped him. They weren’t supposed to do this now. Bucky was planning to say something in a week or so, preferably after finishing a fantastically successful mission, when they could hold each other and watch an enemy base burning to ruin in the background. Instead, they were sitting in a fluorescently lit conference room filling out paperwork.
“So do it,” Bucky challenged with a shrug, since apparently being in love with Steve Rogers meant the romance was dead from the get-go.
“Nah, I don’t have to -”
Bucky tipped up his chin. “No, go on. I dare you.”
“Fine.” Steve set his jaw and scribbled out the word in his thick, messy handwriting, looking back at Bucky expectantly when he finished. With a shake of his head and a choked laugh, Bucky followed suit.
“Gentlemen,” Coulson interrupted, leaning in from the other side of the table where he had been quietly overseeing their work. “You do have to list a valid relationship status.”
“We’re in a valid relationship,” Steve protested, clearly ready to fight anyone who said otherwise.
“I mean you would actually need to be married.”
“Well,” Bucky pondered. “Don’t you have some kind of paperwork for that, too? We can just do it now.”
Steve whipped his head around so fast it might have injured a normal person. “Now?”
“Unless you don’t want want to marry me.” Bucky folded his arms. “I just assumed, since you were asking -”
“No, I do,” Steve said, breathtakingly earnest, as he brushed a strand of hair out of Bucky’s face, and leaned in for a quick, gentle kiss. “Can S.H.I.E.L.D. even issue marriage licenses?”
“Not really,” Coulson stated.
“Not overtly,” Bucky corrected. “You get away with spying on American citizens and threatening US generals, so if anyone can marry us and not have it leak to the press, it’s you.”
Coulson nodded, curt,but approving. “I guess that makes sense. I’ll be back with the paperwork.”
Steve watched Coulson leave the room, and stared at the door for a good couple of minutes, just trying to collect himself. He looked back to Bucky, searching his face in absolute awe, and Bucky took the opportunity to press a warmer, headier kiss to Steve’s open mouth.
Steve savored the taste of his lips for a moment before shoving him away. “Did you just dare me to marry you?”
"I just know if I dare you, you’re guaranteed to say yes,” Bucky answered, with a smug quirk of his eyebrows.
“I don’t have to say yes every time.” Steve furrowed his brows into a mulish scowl, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.
“Dare you to kiss me,” he said.
Steve hoisted Bucky up onto the conference table, slid his hands underneath Bucky’s shirt and kissed him like it was already their honeymoon.