Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You're sure you're not mad?" Steve asks, following Bucky from the living room into the kitchen like a wayward puppy sensing the promise of food. Not that Bucky thinks Steve'll appreciate the comparison, but what he doesn't know won't kill him.

He sighs, pouring the last of the coffee into his mug. "Yes, I'm sure." Too bad they've already eaten all the french toast and bacon Steve had made for breakfast. Bucky could use something to munch on.

"Because, if you are, we may as well get the fight out of the way now," Steve continues, like Bucky hadn't spoken. "I mean, sure, it's your birthday and all, but –"

"Exactly," Bucky interrupts, "it's my birthday, so I get to decide if I'm mad, not you. And I'm not."

Steve deflates like a popped balloon, broad shoulders slumping forward, head drooping to his chest. "You know, this would make me feel a lot better if you just yelled at me and got it over with."

"I know, Stevie. You and your fucking Catholic guilt, I swear." Bucky takes pity on the big lug and transfers his mug to his left hand so he can pull Steve in for a one-armed embrace, planting a loud smack to Steve's cheek. "But I think I'll be okay showing Thor the best of what New York has to offer without you around to interrupt every two minutes, telling embarrassing stories about all the alleys I pulled you out of all over the five boroughs."

"Fuck you, we never got into a fight in Queens and you know it."

"And I'm supposed to be the old and senile one," Bucky laments, shaking his head at his lot in life. "You forgot Ricky Harrison's cousin's –"

"That was Long Island," Steve interrupts, scowl firmly still in place. "Brooklyn side, before you even try to start."

"You're wrong about that, and now you're just trying to start an argument, and on my birthday, too. That's bad form, Rogers, your mother's probably turning over in her grave as we speak."

"Says you," Steve scoffs, but the color's returned to his cheeks and he doesn't look like a depressed basset hound anymore, so Bucky takes the victory lap.

"Anyway, the point is, go do what needs doing and don't worry about me," he says. Then, because fucking with Steve is still the cheapest entertainment going, no matter what century they're in, he adds: "Just make sure you're back in time to escort me to my surprise party."

The look on Steve's face is comical – the perfect mixture of consternation, sheepishness, and deer in the headlights. It's amazing how he can lie with a straight face to any general or enemy combatant, but around Bucky or a pretty girl, he's easier to read than a grade school primer. "You...you know about that?"

"At least you're smart enough not to deny it," Bucky says, then points a thumb at himself. "Master assassin and tactician, come on, did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"Well –" Steve stops, then lets out a rueful chuckle. "When you put it like that..."

"It's fine, by the way. I'm cool with a big blowout. But," he says, now pointing a finger at Steve, "I'll be remembering this next year when it's your turn to hit the century mark."

"I expect nothing less," Steve replies, with a fond, sappy smile that means he's about two seconds away from launching into some heartfelt spiel about how happy and grateful he is they've both survived, and it's not that Bucky doesn't want to hear it, exactly, it's just...it's way too early in the day – and he's way too sober – to have the I'm glad you're here with me, the Frodo to my Sam lovefest.

He takes an obnoxiously loud slurp of his coffee, and pushes at Steve's chest, playful, but firm enough Steve'll know he means business. "Anyway, go on, get out of here. I gotta get ready to meet Thor."

Steve leans around him to put his water glass in the sink. "Have fun today."

"Of course," Bucky replies, and salutes him with his mug. "I'll have a loaded dog at Nathan's just for you."

"Okay, now you're just rubbing it in."

Bucky just gives a what're you gonna do shrug. "Yes I am."

It's his birthday. He can do what he wants.

***

Bucky raps on the door to Thor's SoHo brownstone, and rocks back on his heels while he waits on the stoop. It's nice out – blue skies with puffy white clouds overhead, the warmth in the breeze hinting that spring is blessedly on the way – and Bucky soaks it in, pleased that Mother Nature has, for once, decided to cooperate.

It's going to be a good day today.

Thor opens the door with his arms held wide and a beaming smile on his face. "James, happy birthday, my friend!" he exclaims and, before Bucky can even open his mouth to say thanks, he's pulled into a tight, long, cuddly sort of hug that is the physical embodiment of rainbows and sunshine, all warmth and affection and purity.

Bucky feels ten pounds lighter when they part. "Is that an Asgardian thing or are you just exceptional at giving hugs?"

Thor's grin deepens the grooves around his generous mouth. "Who's to say it's not both?" Then he glances around, brows furrowing. "I'd thought Steve would be joining us."

"He was, but a thing came up, so you're stuck with just me I'm afraid," Bucky says, as Thor locks the door behind him and walks with Bucky down the steps. Like Bucky, Thor's hair is pulled back into a half-ponytail, but on Thor, it looks fashionably disheveled, instead of plain-old messy. Also like Bucky, Thor's dressed for comfort and sightseeing, in jeans and a tee and an unzipped hoodie that brings out the blue in his eyes.

Right now, those eyes are pinning Bucky in place. "Spending time with you is an honor and a privilege, especially on such a notable day. Not something to be endured."

Bucky clutches at his chest with a wounded expression. "Ouch, your disappointed face is even better than Steve's, and that's saying something."

Thor hmphs, but looks slightly mollified. "I've had more years to practice."

"I guess you're right," Bucky says, then sets off down the sidewalk to the subway station, Thor beside him. "So, you ready to play tourist?"

"I am, indeed. Where are we off to first?"

"Observation deck at Empire so you can see the City in all its glory, then Washington Square Park – we'll leave Central for another day – then the ferry to Liberty Island so you can see the Lady up close. Then I thought we'd walk over the Bridge to Brooklyn so I can introduce you to the best pizza in all of New York, which means the best pizza on the planet, by the way, don't let anyone tell you different, then I guess we'll see where we are on time before I need to make my entrance at my surprise party."

Thor chuckles. "I can't say I'm surprised you are aware of it. The planning has not been subtle."

"That, pal, is an understatement," Bucky says, and rubs his hands, eager to get started. "You ready?"

"I am."

"Alright, then, the greatest city in the world awaits."

***

It's the fashionable thing, so Bucky's heard, for New Yorkers these days to affect this air of ennui and eye-rolling exasperation whenever the Empire State Building is mentioned. But, Bucky's never much cared for pretending that he's above being excited, even by popular things. And there's a reason, in his not so humble opinion, that tourists flock to the observation deck on the second coolest building in all of New York. (Chrysler would always be number one, but his dad had been on the construction crew for it, so Bucky's admittedly biased.)

Sure, it costs an arm and a leg to get up here these days (Bucky remembers when it used to cost a nickel), but Thor's looking suitably impressed by the view, so mission accomplished.

"It's lovely," Thor says, gesturing towards the buildings spread out before them like a concrete and steel blanket. "One can almost taste the life teeming below us."

"I like that, that's a great way to put it," Bucky says, impressed. He joins Thor to look out over the city, smiling at the sea of skyscrapers and the island of green smack in the middle that's Central Park. "There's no place like it on earth, and I've been all over. Hong Kong maybe comes the closest, but I'm partial to my city."

"You would be remiss if you were not," Thor tells him. The wind's whipping his hair around something fierce, but it doesn't seem to bother him.

"What about your home? I mean, I'm sure your views are pretty spectacular where you're from," Bucky says, with an encouraging smile. He likes it when Thor talks, especially when he talks about the different realms and planets he's seen.

"The throne room has walls made of glass that look out over the city of Asgard," Thor says, his smile softening as he starts to warm to the subject. "The Bifrost leads to the palace, which sits in the city center, with spires climbing to the heavens, and a great lake beyond, and the Asgard Mountains in the distance."

"Sounds beautiful. And peaceful."

"Ah, well, the peace of Asgard depends on how much Volstagg's been drinking and whether Lady Sif is in the mood to encourage his behavior."

Bucky laughs. "Sounds like Steve and Nat."

Thor lets out a surprised chuckle. "It's an apt comparison. You'll have to come visit and see for yourself."

Bucky nudges his shoulder companionably. "If that's an invitation, you're on."

"It is," Thor replies, with a warm look that Bucky can't quite make out.

***

They decide to walk down 5th to Washington Square Park to take advantage of the mild weather, and so Bucky can point out the Flatiron Building (his third favorite in the City) and Madison Square Park, so he can show off the Eternal Light Flagstaff, designed by one of his mother's numerous cousins. Which naturally leads to him and Thor comparing family trees and swapping tales about their respective youths, and all of the crazy shit they'd done and managed to live through. Thor tells him the story of how he and his friend Hogun caused an inter-dimensional incident by swimming in a sacred pool in Alfheim, and Bucky tells his own story about the time he and Steve managed to almost get shot by the future Queen of England during a Howlies mission in the War.

"Not as impressive as getting kicked off an entire world, but I'm pretty sure Steve and I still aren't allowed within a mile of Her Majesty, which means getting around in London is a bit tricky," Bucky says, grinning in delight when Thor throws his head back and laughs, full-bodied and richly amused. One of the things he likes most about Thor is that Thor never does anything by halves. It's refreshing.

"As an Asgardian diplomat, perhaps I can petition you both for a pardon," Thor says, with a twinkle in his eyes that suggests he's joking, but with enough of a question to it that Bucky also thinks Thor would summon his magic hammer and fly to Buckingham Palace right now if Bucky asked him to.

Which is, admittedly, tempting, but Bucky's enjoying himself too much to put it to the test. "Nah, I'll save that favor for something I really need."

"I wouldn't consider it a favor," Thor tells him, with another one of those full-lipped smiles that makes him look more like he's descended from the Greek God Apollo than Odin.

"Thanks," Bucky says, returning the smile, and leads them to the northern entrance of the park, where the Arch stands, quietly and majestically welcoming all visitors. He's been here a thousand times at least, but the tiny thrill he gets at seeing it will never get old.

"So, there are bigger parks and more famous parks in the City – and I know I should be taking you to Prospect, but..." He looks around and his gaze lands on the center fountain, and the kids splashing around in the water, their bright laughter filling the air. "After the whole Project Insight fiasco...well, anyway, I made my way up to New York to try to, I dunno, see if I could shake something loose in the old noggin', but nothing felt quite real. Not until I got here. And, I'm not sure what it was, but something about the way the sunlight hit the Arch and the water from the fountain and the trees just...all these memories started spilling out. Most of 'em fragments, but..." He offers a sheepish smile. "Sorry, that probably doesn't make much sense."

Thor clasps his shoulder, kneading tense muscle. Bucky gives him about a week to stop. "On the contrary," Thor says, "you were most eloquent."

Bucky lets out a soft snort. "Yeah, let's not get carried away."

Thor lifts an impressive eyebrow. "Eloquence has many forms, my friend. And your honesty carries with it a weight that flowery words do not."

"Thanks, Thor," Bucky replies, touched. "That...that means a lot."

"You are most welcome." Thor drops his hand, and wanders towards the chess tables. Bucky just stares after him for a minute, wondering why his shoulder now feels so cold.

***

Thor winds up getting roped into a friendly match by one of the old men camped out at the tables; they've been a staple of the park since Bucky was a kid. Thor acquits himself pretty well, too, for someone who'd gotten a crash course in the moves and rules just five minutes prior. Bucky, who's always been more of a poker and bridge fan, is content to hang back and observe, to bask in the sun shining above them and revel in the still novel feeling of doing absolutely nothing.

He's not sure he'll ever get used to the fact that he can do this now, and not just on special occasions like his birthday. His time is his own, free and clear. Sure, he goes out on missions with Steve sometimes when Steve needs backup, but that's his choice, and his alone. No one's giving him orders, and no one will, not ever again.

It's the best gift anyone could ever have gotten him, and he gets to have it every day.

After the match, they hop on the N line down to Battery Park so they can catch the ferry to Liberty Island. Thor spends most of the subway ride playing peek-a-boo with a toddler sitting in her mom's lap, and if there's anything more adorable than an actual god making ridiculously convoluted faces just to get high-pitched giggles in return, Bucky would love to see it.

"You're good with her," Bucky says, nodding towards the little girl. "Ever think about having any? A brood of baby Norse godlings following you around and tugging on your cape?"

"The cape is symbolic."

"The cape is ridiculous, but you make it work for you." Bucky's not sure anyone else could pull it off and not look like the biggest dick on this planet or any other.

"Thank you." Thor waves at the toddler when she and her mother get off on the next stop, his look wistful. "And yes, of course I've thought about it. Who doesn't want to see their lineage continue. But...it's not feasible for me to pursue that life right now, and I'm not going to force it just for the sake of having an heir. There will be plenty of time for fatherhood and all its responsibilities."

"Yeah, I wanted a baseball team's worth when I was younger," Bucky says, with his own tiny, sorrowful smile. "But then the world went to hell in a handbasket, and making sure we'd all actually have a future seemed more important than settling down with the right girl. And now, well." He shrugs, lifts his left hand, turning it slightly so the light above glints off the metal. "I'm not sure I'd be much in the way of father material."

Thor tilts his head, his gaze solemn, his mouth a straight, flat line. For a long time, he just studies Bucky in silence. It's a little disconcerting, but Bucky's been stared at and prodded and treated like a thing for far too long to let it truly bother him. At least Thor's still looking at him like he's a person, not a weapon to fire at the next target.

It's not until after the next stop, with the train rumbling south on the tracks, the noise a comforting constant, the soundtrack to Bucky's life, that Thor speaks. "You've endured much, and that is the truth of it," he says, quiet and solemn in a way he almost never is, and it raises the hairs on the back of Bucky's neck.

"But, because you've endured and suffered so much, you've learned the value of compassion," Thor continues. "Of grace. You've seen the worst of humanity, the despair and hopelessness and hatred, and yet you've chosen to surround yourself with people who seek out the best in others, who inspire and encourage and would fill the world with light. And that is, I believe, the most valuable lesson one could impart to a child." He puts his hand on Bucky's shoulder, the touch just as firm and warm as the last time. "I think you would be more fit than most to become a father, whenever you wish it."

Bucky blinks back the sudden sting of tears, his throat closing as gratitude and affection overwhelm him. "Thank you," he manages, with a smile that he knows is wobbly, but Thor doesn't seem to mind at all.

"You are most welcome," Thor replies. His eyes seem unusually blue in the sallow fluorescent light.

***

The ferry's crammed with people like it normally is, but Bucky and Thor manage to find a spot on the railing so they can enjoy the pleasant, if chilly, breeze, and watch the boats inching from the ports to the river and then destinations unknown. Back when he and Stevie'd been kids, they used to hang out at the docks sometimes. They'd make up stories about where the ships were headed, about their outlandish cargo, and all of the adventures the crews would have on the high seas and then on land.

It's hard not to miss those innocent days sometimes, even though he wouldn't trade Steve being healthy and strong for anything.

"You're shivering," Thor observes, and lifts his arm in invitation. Bucky wastes no time in huddling close, letting Thor pull him against his chest. "Better?" Thor asks, his breath tickling the top of Bucky's ear.

"Much," Bucky says, relieved. Thor, much like Steve, radiates more heat than a furnace on high blast. He nods at the railing, where Liberty Island, and the truly awe-inspiring Lady Liberty herself, are getting closer and closer. "So, what do you think of her?"

"She's magnificent," Thor replies, with the proper reverence in his voice. "I understand she's a beacon of hope for Midgardians."

"Yeah, a symbol of hope and freedom and...like, the whole idea that you can remake yourself. You can be anything. You have...choices here. Possibilities. Opportunities you wouldn't have anywhere else in the world." Bucky's spent a lot of time in the last year visiting the statue, reading the inscription at the base over and over until it's become a talisman. Thinking about his grandparents and how they'd made that hopeful voyage from their native Dorset, armed with nothing except a suitcase filled with clothes and a burning desire to seek a better life for themselves and their future children.

"I can certainly see the appeal," Thor says. "Rebirth is a powerful notion."

"I guess you'd understand more than most." Thor had told him the story once, late at night, about how he'd come to Earth in the first place, and why he chooses to stay here rather than take his place on the throne. Bucky's always admired Thor for that, for having the courage to walk away from a life he didn't want and choosing, instead, to find his own path. "But yeah, she reminds me that it's not too late for a second chance."

"It's never too late to be what you might have been," Thor replies quietly. "I read that in one of your inspirational books."

"I like it." Maybe he'd get it tattooed somewhere on him, to remind himself on the dark days that he still had time to be the good man he once might have been, had fate and circumstance and a war not intervened.

"So, tell me about her." Thor so far hasn't seem inclined to let Bucky go, and he's not about to complain, not with the warmth seeping into his bones like a blazing fire.

"Well," he says, snaking his flesh arm around Thor's waist, damn what they look like to anyone else, "I'm sure we'll get the tour, but she was a gift from France..."

***

Once they make it back to Battery Park, Bucky decides to take Thor along the scenic route to Brooklyn Bridge, so he can point out the Federal Reserve and a few other historic buildings. They've just crossed from Williams to Gold when Bucky's phone rings.

He checks the caller ID and is shaking his head before he even hits accept. "You checking up on me, Rogers?" he says, not bothering with the usual greeting.

"Just making sure you two are staying out of trouble," Steve replies, and it's clear from his voice that he's sporting that exasperated smile that's been his default around Bucky since they were kids.

"Trouble's what you drag me into. Thor's been a peach," Bucky says, with a wink Thor's way.

Steve – and Thor – both laugh. "Yeah, okay, Buck, keep telling yourself that," Steve says. "Like you didn't get into enough of it without my help."

"What can I say, you've always been a bad influence," Bucky replies, with a grin. "Now go back to whatever the hell it is you're doing and let me get back to playing Best Tour Guide Ever."

"We still on for dinner before your party?"

"You paying for a meal for once? I wouldn't miss it," Bucky says, and hits end on his phone, still smiling. It fades a little when he looks at Thor, who's watching him with the oddest look on his face. Bucky can't tell if it's sadness or envy or resigned or some combination of all three.

"You love him," Thor quietly says, his tone just as hard to decipher.

Bucky does him the favor of not pretending to misunderstand the question. "Yeah, I do. But he's...we're...it's complicated." He shrugs, eyes drifting down the block, skimming over the hustle and bustle of the always moving crowd that makes New York such a vibrant city. He's not quite sure why they're having this conversation right now, but he's not going to lie to one of his closest friends he's made in this century. "Look, Steve is...he's the most important person in my life. And who knows what'll happen in the future, or what we might be to each other some day down the line, but right now, we wouldn't be good for each other like that. We'd be..."

"Co-dependent," Thor supplies, with a knowing nod, and a little of the sadness seems to leave his expression.

"Yeah, that." Bucky nods himself, pleased that Thor gets what he means. "And we both know we're not ready for anything close to, well, intimate, I guess. Besides, Steve's got...whatever the hell it is he's got going on with Romanov and Wilson, and good for him, he deserves it, y'know?" Bucky would never in a million years begrudge Steve's happiness, no matter how or where he found it. Bucky knows – he's always known – where he and Steve stand with each other.

"And you?" Thor asks, thoughtful and quiet. "What about what you deserve?"

"I dunno, I'm still exploring my options." Bucky's lips curve up teasingly. "Why, you have someone in mind for me?"

Thor doesn't smile back. "Yes. Me."

"Oh," Bucky breathes, stunned into stillness. How the hell had he missed this?

What little light there had been in Thor's eyes dims completely. "It's not my intent to make you feel uncomfortable –"

"I'm not uncomfortable, I just...didn't know." But, looking back on the way Thor had been acting all day, Bucky thinks he probably should've guessed. Once upon a time, he would have seen the thoughtful gestures and offered smiles and casual touches that lingered far too long for mere friendship for what they were – for what they are. He wouldn't have needed it spelled out for him. But, like everything else, he's sorely out of practice with anything resembling flirty or romantic overtures.

"My interest has been rebuffed before, James," Thor tells him, gently. "I've lived a long life. You would scarcely be the first to turn me away."

"I'm not, though." Sure, maybe he's just been blindsided by Thor's interest, but that doesn't mean he's not interested himself. He'd be lying if he said he'd never had the odd thought or two at seeing Thor in a well-fitting tee (which is always, Bucky swears Thor and Steve both buy a size too small just to be show-offs), or that his heart's never fluttered when Thor's directed that sun-drenched smile of his Bucky's way. "I mean, I'm not turning you away."

"Then what are you saying?" Thor asks. Which, yeah, Bucky can certainly understand Thor's need for clarification; after all, he'd made the first move and Bucky hadn't exactly reacted like a man overjoyed. If he wants anything to happen, it's on him to make the next move and hope for the best.

He takes a leap of faith, slides his palm over Thor's, and laces their fingers together. Feels the strength – and the gentleness – in Thor's grip, and it makes the next words easier. "Why don't we make this a real date?"

Thor glances down at their hands, then up, his gaze cautious, but hopeful. "Are you certain?"

"It's still my birthday, right?" Bucky asks, summoning his most reassuring smile. "Which means it's still my day and I call the shots."

Thor huffs out a fond laugh. "Indeed it is."

"Then I'm sure," Bucky replies.

He keeps their fingers entwined as they set off across the Brooklyn Bridge. It's crowded, but not unusually so, with tourists and sidewalk vendors and cyclists all jockeying for space. Ahead of them is the Brooklyn skyline – maybe not as impressive as Manhattan's, but still beautiful. Still home in a way that no other place could ever be.

He glances sideways at Thor's profile, the blond stubble and regal cheekbones and long lashes accenting summer-blue eyes, then down at their clasped hands. This is nice, he thinks, as they stroll down the sidewalk. Romantic, even. He'd always put their easy connection down to the fact that Thor's the only person other than Steve who's never looked at him with anything other than affection and warmth. But maybe he's been missing his own signs.

"Hey, you mind if I ask you something?"

"You may ask me anything you like," Thor tells him, with so much sincerity that Bucky's breath catches.

"When did you, uh, I mean...how long've you wanted to...?" He gently squeezes Thor's fingers. "Y'know, I mean...actually, you know what, I'm not sure what I mean."

"The first time we met," Thor says, offering a warm smile, one that makes him look boyishly handsome instead of intimidatingly beautiful. "I wish I could say that I was attracted to anything other than the look of you at first, but..."

"Well, I am a pretty handsome guy," Bucky jokes, nudging Thor's arm.

"That you are," Thor amiably (and rightfully) agrees. "But over time, the more I got to know you, that surface attraction became something deeper. Something far more substantial than mere lust for the way you look wearing those snug jeans you seem to favor."

Bucky's not one much for blushing, but something about the forthright honesty in Thor's reply has him ducking his head to hide how pink his cheeks are. "You've been checking out my ass all this time and I never noticed?"

"And your thighs," Thor says, with a downward glance that feels as palpable as a touch.

Bucky stops, and turns to face Thor, resting his metal hand on Thor's hip. Screw caution – he's taking this opportunity and grabbing onto it with both hands. "Stop me if I'm moving too fast, alright," he says, then leans in to press his mouth to Thor's.

As far as first kisses go, it's right up there with the first time he kissed Nancy Mulligan when he was fifteen. He's got that same flutter going on in his chest and the same warmth spreading from his fingers and toes. By unspoken agreement, they keep things light – almost chaste, except for the way Bucky's heart is hammering and the way he wonders what the scrape of Thor's beard would feel like on other parts of his body.

From the way Thor smiles when they end the kiss, Bucky thinks he's got a better than decent shot at finding out.

"That was nice," he says, somewhat inanely, but he doesn't think anyone would blame him for not being on his A-game. It's not every day you get kissed by a god.

"A most worthy first kiss," Thor replies, then wraps a steel-band arm around Bucky's waist, and hauls him close for another kiss, this one hot and heavy and about as far from chaste as it gets.

Thor's muscled weight presses against him, solid and unyielding, as he fists Bucky's hair with his other hand, holding him still. The kiss scrapes teeth on teeth, tears at Bucky's lower lip, and the faint, metallic taste of blood fills his mouth as Thor dives in, conquers Bucky's mouth like it's his divine right.

The thought of it – of Thor taking what he wants, taking Bucky – is hotter than a supernova, revs Bucky's engines from zero to sixty in no time flat.

He tangles his own hands in the silky fall of Thor's hair as he gives back some of his own, feels the slippery-slick press of Thor's tongue against his. They're so close a sliver of paper couldn't fit between them, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and somehow, it's still not close enough. Bucky groans, low in his throat, when Thor changes the angle, and gives in to the desire and need pooling in his blood. Thor's lips are lush, plump, a marked contrast to the scratchiness of his beard, and all Bucky can think is more. He wants more of Thor's hands all over his body, more of Thor kissing him like he's the only sustenance Thor needs, more of the throaty moans Thor keeps making every time they come back together for kiss after kiss, each one better than the last.

This time, when they break for air, Bucky's more than half-hard and contemplating if dragging Thor someplace a lot more private would be worth missing his own party and facing Steve's sure-to-be epic disappointed, mopey face. "Uh, wow," he manages, flicking out his tongue to chase the last of Thor's taste, dark and rich and oh-so addictive, on his lips. "Now that's what I call a birthday kiss."

Thor's laughter rumbles through him like thunder. "Rest assured, there are many more where that came from, even after your birthday has passed."

"Good to know." He risks one more kiss, then starts the admittedly slow process of peeling himself away from Thor's body before they get arrested for committing a lewd act in public. Not that he cares so much about breaking the law, but spending part of his evening behind bars isn't exactly the way he wants to celebrate. He doesn't go too far, however, and when Thor slides his arm around Bucky's waist to keep him close as they walk, well, it's only polite that he return the favor.

(When they finally meet Steve for dinner (pizza at Juliana's, because Bucky had promised Thor the best pizza in all of New York, and he's a man of his word) – late and maybe sporting a little beard burn and maybe more than a little rumpled from stopping at various points along the Bridge to make out like super horny teenagers – Steve takes one look at them and sighs and mutters something under his breath about owing Sam twenty bucks. Then he gives Thor a bone-crushing hug and manages to simultaneously welcome him to the family while also threatening to break his kneecaps with his own hammer if he even thinks about breaking Bucky's heart. Thor, for his part, accepts the warning as his due, with a solemn promise to make Bucky's happiness his priority.

And, from the way he looks at Bucky when he says it, Bucky doesn't think that's going to be a problem.)