Chapter Text
Almost Two Years Later
Bucky wakes up to the sound of music floating into his room from downstairs. He doesn’t sleep here much during the night anymore, but it’s usually where he naps. He finally convinced Josephine that she was 65 years young, not old, and that if she’d open a bakery, he’d help her run it. That means 3:00 a.m. wake-up calls, and, if he wants to see Steve and Peggy in the evenings, then he’s got to nap when he gets home.
Of course, Steve and Peggy are home a little early today. It’s been two whole years since they started this thing between the three of them, and that certainly calls for a little celebration. They’ve got reservations for dinner in the city and then they’ll head back home and turn their living room into a dance hall made for three.
A whole lot has happened in that time. Bucky came out of hiding and is now a decorated veteran. There was a whole award ceremony, which Bucky really didn’t want to attend because war fucking sucks, thank-you-very-much, and he didn’t even want to do any of the things he had to do in order to survive. War changed his whole damn life and none of it was for the better (except Stevie not being sick anymore. He’ll take that. And meeting Peggy too. He supposes that’s okay as well. Alright, twist his arm, it gave him a silver lining or two). Now he can go to Brooklyn, and he does every month to visit his sisters and their kids. Uncle Bucky is real swell and spoils them with lots of things they don’t need.
Steve and Peggy have all but eradicated HYDRA. Raiding Zola’s home and facility gave them the information they needed to cut off all the heads and cauterize those fuckers so none of them grew back. And now Bucky gets to move on with this life as best he can. There are still bad days sometimes. Even now, The Soldier peeks in, says hello, antsy for his trigger words so he can take over again. He makes Bucky survey every room for exits and choke points. He makes Bucky store a cache of weapons in the garage at home and in the cellar of the bakery, locked away so Josephine won’t accidentally shoot herself. He doesn’t want to fight, he never did, but he’ll be ready if he has to. His two loves are saving the world every damn day, and he’ll be here if they need him.
He and Peggy finally visited the other Steve a few months ago. They took a couple of days for themselves, flying out to Howard’s underground vault in Podunk, North Dakota, Population: -5, staying at the little farm house that sits above it. Monty used to make Bucky read all kinds of stuff in the war, and remembering Freud’s idea of das unheimliche— the uncanny— is the closest thing he’s ever read or heard that could describe how it felt to see this Steve when his other Steve was at home waiting for them in New Jersey (and how the fuck did James Buchanan Barnes end up in New Jersey anyway?). It felt strange to see both, to love both, and he knew Peggy felt it too by the sad smile she cast his way as they stood in front of the cryo chamber.
“I wish I could kiss him,” Bucky said.
Peggy turned her head in contemplation before nodding. “Yes, that’d be nice. He’d like that.”
But they kissed each other instead and made a sort of melancholic love in the farmhouse above, pressed together tenderly, Peggy kissing the tears that slipped down his cheeks. Bucky and Peggy don’t have a lot of time alone together — they’re both too damn in love with Steven Grant Rogers to see straight half the time — but Bucky always cherishes it when they do.
The music suddenly gets louder, and he recognizes the song. He loves this song. And if they’re downstairs dancing without him, he’s going to smack both of them.
He heads down and sees them, their faces pressed together, Steve’s eyes closed, a warm smile on Peggy’s face, as they slowly turn about the room. They’re quite the vision, the two of them, America’s Sweethearts. And Bucky’s chest fills with warm, gooey nonsense because they’re his, and he loves them both.
“You started without me,” Bucky says, trying to sound sad, but failing completely.
Steve turns around and gives him that bright smile that would make Bucky do literally anything in the world that Steve would ask. He could say, hey, will you help me take over the universe, and Bucky would do it. But usually Steve just asks for things like will you get me another cup of coffee or can I fuck your mouth, and Bucky always says yes because of that smile right there (and because putting Steve’s dick in his mouth is never a hardship).
“I tried to wake you but you didn’t budge,” Peggy says.
“Fair,” he responds. “It was a long day.”
He wants to kiss them both but the curtains are wide open and just anyone could look in on their little scene, and who knows who’s watching out there? So he crosses the room to close them.
“Come here, love,” Peggy says, extending her hand out to him. He doesn’t follow her orders the same way Steve does, but he still does whatever she says ‘cause he’d be dumb not to. So he steps between them, and they wrap their arms around one another and sway gently to the music. Kitty Kallen starts crooning about time and kisses—
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It's been a long, long time
— and Bucky thinks of the years they spent without one another, years spent apart across the globe, through time itself. And it hasn’t been a long, long time since he kissed Peggy and Steve; he just did it this morning before he left for work, both of them grumbling sleepily when he did so. But still, he figures he’s still making up for lost time.
So he kisses them both — once, twice, then once again. And when they smile knowingly against his lips, he smiles right back at them.