Chapter Text
Music blared through the banquet hall, the dance floor a tidal wave of noise and movement despite the fact that the crowd was dwindling. Steve was sitting just on the outside of it at the groomsmen's table with Sam, unable to stop himself from grinning as he set down his champagne flute.
He spotted Natasha on the dance floor, a vision in white. She was stunning, bright red hair in a loose and elegant braid with eyeliner that could probably cut Steve's face open. Her dress hugged her figure up until her mid-thigh and then flowed out, making Steve pretty sure if he was into girls he'd be a goner for her. Sam must of seen her as well, for he leaned over to Steve after taking a sip of his own drink.
"Who would've thought Clint would be the first of us to get hitched? And to Nat?"
Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Remind me to beat his ass if he messes this up somehow."
Nat and Clint were total opposites, but somehow the complete idiot that Sam and Steve knew had managed to tie the knot with the scariest woman any of them had ever met.
The wedding had been one hell of a time, but the night was winding down and Steve was ready to leave. That meant he had to find Bucky. Since they were roomates, so he and Steve had come together. That also meant they had to leave together. He cursed internally, because he'd seen Bucky and Valkryie doing shots earlier. Those two were a dangerous combination, as neither knew when to stop when it came to liquor.
Leaning over to Sam, he called, "let me know if you see Bucky."
Sam nodded with a smile that was a little too knowing, both of them starting to scan the floor for him.
Bucky had been Natasha's best friend for so long, she had somehow managed to make him maid of honour (' Because I said so, Barnes, that's why' ).
Also, he happened to be the love of Steve's life.
Steve was harshly reminded of this when he spotted the man stumbling through the crowd, arm in arm with a guy that Steve was pretty sure was their friend Thor's brother, Loki. And fuck, Bucky looked good. He also looked drunk as hell.
The eyeliner that Natasha had managed to wrestle onto him at the beginning of the night was now smudged, making bright eyes look even brighter against a smoky backdrop. What had started as an elegant updo now resembled a messy bun, soft brown hair slipping loose from it to frame flushed cheeks. He was laughing, leaning against the other man's slightly bigger frame.
Something in Steve's chest twisted, noticing Loki tuck a stray lock behind Bucky's ear. Despite the fact that Steve was head over heels for Bucky, he'd long accepted the fact that it was a one-way thing. Still, he couldn't help that it always felt like a punch in the gut whenever he saw him with anyone else.
Just then, Sam saw them as well, laughing out loud. "Damn, Steve, you better get your boy before Loki eats him alive."
"Shut up," he gritted out, thinking about how he could get out of this. They'd taken Bucky's car, goddammit , so Steve couldn't leave without getting in the middle of the inebriated couple.
With another look, he saw that Bucky was now beaming with glassy eyes, and Loki was smiling giddily back. It was obvious that they were both equally hammered, which made Steve feel a liftle better- if anybody had been taking advantage of Bucky, he was sure he would've ruined the wedding by clocking them then and there.
He could try to take him home- odds are that wouldn't end well, he and Loki were glued at the hip. So his best bet was to get the keys and drive home by himself, leaving the two of them to do whatever they wanted in the peace- sure, it was sad as fuck, but it was the best plan he had. He would call Bucky in the morning and see if he needed to be picked up.
"Guess I better go in." Steve sighed as he stood up, rolling his eyes when Sam gave him a good-natured slap on the ass.
"Go get him, tiger," Sam teased, not bothering to stop laughing even under Steve's scathing look.
Steve continued walking, catching Bucky's eye just before he reached him and Loki.
"Stevie!" His eyes seemed to light up as he untangled himself from the other man, barrelling into Steve's chest.
Steve let out an 'oof' as Bucky flung his arms around Steve's neck. He may have been significantly smaller, but drunk Bucky sure packed a punch. Steve stood still for a second, unsure of what to do now. This hadn't been part of the plan.
Bucky's usual cologne was mixed with the scent of lime, mint, and plenty of vodka, and it didn't seem like he was letting go of Steve any time soon.
"Seems like he likes you," Loki chimed in, laughing drunkenly. "Lucky man, he's a pretty one." He seemed more amused than jealous, tilting his head as he watched the two of them for a second and then wandered back to the bar.
"Mm, Steve." Bucky somehow managed to press himself closer to Steve, who could feel himself turning an embarassing shade of red. He willed himself to think of things like dead puppies and open-heart surgery, anything but the warmth of Bucky's body plastered against his.
He managed to choke out a strangled, "uh, hey Buck," and wrap an awkward arm around Bucky's waist.
Get your shit together, Rogers. Don't get in too deep.
Steve took a minute to school his thoughts before saying anything else. Bucky wasn't in his right mind. This wasn't real. He knew if he gave in, if he didn't put some distance between the two of them, he'd just end up hurt in the morning. Back to the plan- going home.
"Uh, Buck, are you ready to go home? Do you have your car keys?" He looked down, and Bucky seemed to be- sniffing him?
"Home." Bucky looked up at him, eyes wide and smile wider. "Home sounds good." Steve's sure his heart would have burst if he didn't look up to see Natasha approaching him with a wolfish grin.
"Finally make your move Rogers?" She arched one perfect eyebrow, looking from him to Bucky.
There was nothing Natasha didn't know, so Steve wasn't suprised in the slightest that she was aware of his soul-crushing mind consuming love of Bucky Barnes.
"I- no , he-" His stammering came to a halt when Natasha lifted her hand to stop him, grin perhaps even wickeder.
"He's shitfaced, isn't he?"
At that point, Bucky seemed to finally notice Natasha, letting go of Steve to rush over to her.
"Nat! NatNatNat so pretty! You're such a pretty girl that if I liked girls you would be my pretty girl. Except you made me the girl because I'm a maid now!" He'd taken both of her cheeks in his hands, sprinkling kisses all over her nose and forehead.
"Okay, Barnes." She took him by the shoulders, pulling him away from her despite the most adorable pout Steve had ever seen. If only he had that kind of strength. Natasha was barely containing her laughter, but somehow managed to as she spoke to Bucky. "You've been hitting the mojitos pretty hard. I love you. Go home with Steve."
"Love you more," he slurred back, craning his neck to try to kiss one of her hands on his shoulders. "I'm gonna go home then, pretty girl." After a sloppy wink and a little waggle of his fingers, he turned back to Steve. "Hey, big boy. Take me home?"
Steve gulped, nodding a little as Bucky put a hand on his chest. "Do you have your car keys?"
After he had finally gotten the keys, Steve endured a long car ride that he spent trying to drive and swat Bucky's wandering hands off his thigh at the same time, all while listening to a drunken acapella cover of Fergalicious (Bucky couldn't spell delicious but was determined to try until he got it).
He then half-lead half-carry him to their door, managing to unlock it even though Bucky refused to let go of his hand.
It was the sweetest kind of torture, having Bucky so close to him but knowing that in the morning it would all be over. It was made entirely better and worse when they got into the apartment, and Bucky locked his arms around Steve's waist, letting his head fall onto his chest and murmuring something he couldn't quite catch.
Steve put his arms around Bucky as well, convincing himself that it was because he was worried his friend would fall and not because it broke Steve's heart to deny him any affection.
"What was that, Buck?"
He couldn't help but smile as Bucky met his eyes, looking like he might fall asleep right then and there.
"You're my favourite, Stevie. My best guy in the world."
"I- you're my best guy too, Buck." And god , Steve meant it. He held Bucky a little closer, and laughed when he heard the other man let out something akin to a purr. "Now time for you to get some sleep."
"Sleepy time with Stevie," he hummed, letting Steve guide him to his bedroom.
Unfortunately when they got there, Bucky refused to let go. His arms stayed tight around him, despite all of Steve's best efforts to pry him off.
"Okay, Buck, time to let go. This is your bed." He leaned down a little in an attempt to shake Bucky onto the mattress. He realised it was a mistake too late, finding himself yanked down face first, completely on top of Bucky.
Bucky seemed satisfied, arms still around Steve even as he was pressed into the covers.
Goddammit god fucking dammit this was not happening right now.
Steve managed to get up onto his hands, no longer crushing Bucky beneath him, and was met by a sight he wouldn't soon forget.
Big blue bedroom eyes framed with smudged, dark liner gazed up at him, dark hair now free of the bun and fanning around Bucky's head on the pillow. His pink tongue slipped out to dart over his lips, and Steve was frozen on the spot.
Get out of there, Rogers. Now.
Just as built up the resolution to stand, Bucky surged up, pressing his lips against Steve's in a messy kiss.
Now he was fucked.
For a second, all Steve could do was taste sugar and vodka on his tongue, feel nimble fingers carding through his hair and scratching gently at his beard. Once more, he was unable to move.
Snap out of it.
Bucky was drunk. This wasn't right. He grabbed Bucky's arms, pulling them away from him and then standing up.
"No, Buck. This- it's not a good idea."
Bucky gazed up at him, looking more sober than he had all night. He frowned a little, but quickly switched it to a pretty unconvincing smile.
He was probably just needed some contact, and would regret kissing Steve at all when the morning came. It was crushing to think about that, but Steve returned the smile, which was probably even less believable than Bucky's.
"Night, Stevie." Bucky's eyes were already closed as he wriggled under the covers.
"Night, Buck." Steve couldn't stop himself from brushing his knuckles against Bucky's forehead, and the little hum of pleasure that he got for that seemed completely genuine.
Before he could get more emotionally conflicted and fall deeper in love with Bucky (was that possible?) Steve moved his hand and headed back to his room.
When he got there, he couldn't help but touch his own cheek, skin still tingling where Bucky had touched him.
He's shitfaced. It didn't mean anything. Get out of your head, Rogers.