Chapter Text
The One With The Acceptance
(Location: Bucky and Steve's apartment, Brooklyn Heights)
Bucky is enjoying a blissful shower under the glorious rain shower head Steve has in their ensuite when he hears a knock at the bathroom door. Blinking the water out of his eyes and peering past the glass door, he sees familiar fingers curled around the wood.
"Hey, Steve," Bucky says, dipping under the spray again and rubbing his face.
"Can I come in?" Steve asks, voice raised above the sound of water.
"Beware of nudity," Bucky says, an amused smile on his face when Steve walks in grinning. He leans against the sink opposite and crosses arms across his chest, and one ankle over the other, according to his misty visage through the glass. Steve clicks his tongue in disappointment.
"I was promised nudity, but the steam is covering everything up," he bemoans, gesturing to the fogged-up glass.
"How terrible for you!" Bucky tells him, not willing to step away from underneath the warm water.
There's silence for a few moments, but Bucky doesn't mind. Steve often comes in to chat to him while he's in the shower or bath, and vice versa; with permission, of course. While Bucky always appreciates showering as a solitary activity, it's nice to sometimes have a chat during that time.
It's also nice that sometimes Steve can't wait until he gets out to tell him something, or that he feels comfortable enough in this space and with Steve for him to hang out in there.
Sometimes they don't even really speak, Steve just sits on the bathroom counter and plays on his phone while he waits for Bucky to get out.
Another person might've grated on him with that behaviour, but somehow, not Steve.
"Hey, so I have some news," Steve says after a little while, when Bucky has shampoo in his hair. Bucky dips under the water to wash the suds out and pushes the shower door ajar.
"About what?" Bucky swipes a hand over the top part of the glass to wipe away some steam, allowing both himself and Steve more visibility.
Steve shifts to his left to be more in a direct eyeline with Bucky through the gap in the steamy glass.
"I called Nancy Morita-Shaw today, Jim's daughter? I told her I agreed to speak about Jim at the ceremony at Pearl Harbour in December."
"That's great, Steve!" Bucky smiles and ducks under the water again. "I think that'll be really good for you as well as the Moritas." Bucky squeezes a good amount of conditioner into his hand and starts massaging it into his scalp.
"I hope so," Steve says. "Because of that... I wanted to know if you'd come with me."
Bucky's hands freeze where they're buried in his hair. He leans back to make eye contact with Steve. "You want me to go to Hawaii with you?"
"Yeah!" Steve says, pushing off the bathroom counter. "I'd really appreciate your support at the ceremony, and it would be nice to have a little vacation there afterwards, wouldn't you say?"
"I've not been to Hawaii before," Bucky admits wistfully.
"It never really made the tour dates when I travelled with the USO," Steve muses, "I guess the brass were still too worried about it being attacked again. Always wanted to go, though, and I've heard wonderful things about it."
Bucky opens the shower door a little more, allowing a plume of steam to exit. "A Hawaiian vacation sounds fucking perfect." Steve grins at the response, even as his brow gets a cute little furrow in it.
"You won't mind we're on some official Army business first?" He queries.
"If you don't mind, I don't mind," Bucky replies amicably. What's he going to do, turn down a trip to Hawaii with Steve? Not fucking likely. He can sit through some military pomp and circumstance with Steve for that, easily.
Steve's relieved grin tells him everything he needs to know about the situation.
Then Bucky gets an idea. "You know," he says as he turns under the water to face Steve. Suds bubble and drift over his shoulders and down his body, "I hear the water in the Pacific is warm." He pushes the shower door open wider with one foot, to Steve's cocked eyebrow. "Wanna come in and help me get acclimated?"
Steve considers the arrangement for a moment before beginning to toe off his shoes. "I see it as my duty," he says with mock-seriousness, lifting the shirt up and over his head.
***
- The One With The Big Questions
(Location: Alan and Margaret Barnes' home, Queens)
It only takes a few moments for the door to open after Bucky raps on it. Standing on the other side is his Aunt Margaret. As soon as she sees him, her face lights up.
"James!" She pulls him inside and into a hug. Bucky wraps his arms around her. Marg's head fits neatly under his chin, so he rests it on her. She playfully pushes him away and casts an eye shrewdly over him. "You're looking good. It's been too long since you've visited."
"I know, I know," Bucky admits. He's only seen her twice since last Christmas, back when he hadn't been doing so crash hot. Especially when Queens isn't all that far away, all things considered, he should be making more effort. "It's not much of an excuse, but the year has been a little hectic."
"I understand," Margaret says, squeezing his bicep in understanding. She closes the door behind Bucky and links their arms together to walk inside. "Are the press still hounding you about Steven?"
Bucky makes a 'so-so' gesture with his free hand. "Eh, they're annoying if they catch us out and about. But we either avoid them or ignore them. The press are kinda assholes, but people generally are pretty nice."
"You tell anyone who isn't treating the two of you well that they'll have me to contend with," Margaret says seriously, and Bucky can't help but smile. She's normally the calming influence in this household, but every once in a while, she shows up as an unadulterated spitfire and Bucky loves her for it.
"That seems cruel and unusual punishment; they wouldn't stand a chance," he says in a stage whisper, and Marg laughs.
As they pass by the stairwell, Marg stops briefly and peers up the steps. "Alan, James is here!" There's a muttering of assent and some creaking floorboards in response.
Marg keeps leading Bucky into their sitting room and gets him situated on a comfortable armchair. "Your uncle will be down in a minute, I've finally got him going through the spare room wardrobe and clearing out his old coats. It's only taken ten years."
"If I'm interrupting--" Bucky starts, but Marg waves him down with a laugh, at the same time as the stairs start to creak.
"I could use a break." Alan's voice drifts down the stairs, punctuated by his footsteps.
"He's been working all of twenty minutes," Marg stage-whispers, which gets Bucky chuckling.
Alan appears at the bottom of the stairs with a very un-serious frown on his face. "Henpecking me again, Margaret?"
Margaret waves him away. "You're so dramatic," she dismisses. Smoothing down her dress, Margaret gestures her husband into the family room. "Come sit and entertain whilst I make some coffee."
Bucky half-raises his hand. "You wouldn't have any of your famous chocolate chip cookies on hand, would you?"
"Of course," she says as she drops a kiss onto the top of his head.
Bucky gives her a smile as she leaves the room. There's no other woman in the Barnes family apart from his mother that makes him feel as lovingly fussed-over.
Alan walks over and Bucky stands, holding his hand out. They give each other a gentlemanly handshake before Alan pulls him in for a short hug. When they part, Alan takes a seat directly opposite Bucky in his favourite armchair.
Alan levels his intelligent, pale blue-eyed gaze at Bucky for a few moments. "Everyone doing well? How are the days treating you, James?"
"Can't complain too much," Bucky responds. "The fam is good. Gracie's completely moved into my old place and I'm pretty settled in Brooklyn Heights now." He laughs as Alan makes an exaggerated whistle.
"Look who's inching closer to The City," Alan teases, smirking when Bucky pulls a face.
"Anyway... the commute isn't that much more from my new place, so that's a plus. Close train lines. It's got a parking spot in an underground lot, too."
Alan nods his head, impressed. "You're coming up in the world."
"Can't have come up that far; car's still a shitbox."
Alan's baritone laugh makes Bucky grin in response. "Why don't you get that Captain of yours to take you car shopping?"
Bucky chuckles. "Look, it's a shitbox but it's not like I need another one right now... I'm not doing cross-country trips. Besides, Tony Stark gave Steve this SUV to... permanently borrow, I guess? It'll do for the time being."
Crossing one ankle over his knee, Alan shuffles to sit more comfortably in his chair. "And you like your new circumstances? Moving in with Steve?"
"I do, yeah. We get to do more things together now, but at the same time, respectful of each other's need for 'alone time', you know?" Alan nods, and Bucky continues. "Look, I think I still got the better end of the deal. All Steve's got now are spaces he shares with me, like the living room and the bedroom. He went out of his way to make his spare room an office-slash-sanctuary for me that he doesn't ever go into unless invited."
"I don't think he's the kind of man that considers giving you a spare room to yourself a sacrifice," Alan remarks with mild incredulity.
"You're right. But in an ideal scenario, I think it would be good for us to both have sanctuaries. Still, I'm very grateful he was so thoughtful. It's made a good difference."
Margaret re-enters the family room at that moment with a tray. On it are two steaming mugs of coffee, and a plate piled high with her cookies. Fresh chocolate chip smell hits his nose and Bucky's mouth begins to water immediately.
The tray is put on the coffee table between them, and no sooner has the plate touched down, Bucky has grabbed a few cookies, biting straight into one of them. Marg tsks at him affectionately.
Once she places the tray down, Margaret backs off. "I have some laundry to do, you two catch up and I'll join you shortly."
She touches Alan on his shoulder, who reaches up to pat her fingers gently before she leaves the room. Bucky clocks the subtle affection, and a smile ghosts his lips.
With Margaret leaving the room, Bucky's mind turns back to their current conversation, and the natural segueway that has presented itself. "Speaking of Steve," he begins, there was something I wanted to ask your opinion on."
"Shoot, son."
Bucky takes a sip of coffee before setting it down on the side table. "This December, Steve has been asked to speak on behalf of Jim Morita at Pearl Harbour, and he's asked me to go with him."
Alan's eyebrows rise slightly. The name 'Jim Morita' needs no explanation. "That sounds quite important. Are you going to attend?"
Bucky nods. "I do. I want to support him, and he's specifically asked for that, too. But," he sighs and squeezes muscles in the back of his neck that have begun to twitch, "given the nature of the circumstances, it's going to be a real official military operation."
"Plenty of dignitaries and brass, I imagine," Alan muses.
"Yeah... and I guess I'm feeling kind of conflicted about what I should do there, how I even go about presenting myself."
"In what way?"
Shifting in his chair anxiously, trying to get comfortable again, Bucky continues. "Well. Steve's still strongly affiliated with the Army, so he'll be following all these protocols, wearing his uniform, etc. I'm there as his partner but also... I guess I'll be representing the Army in some fashion, too.
"Problem is... the last thing I want to do is to get back into uniform. I'm retired and I know I don't have to... but because of the public scrutiny am I gonna be in some way embarrassing Steve? Making things harder for him?"
Bucky pauses before he goes on. "There was an article a while back... it was pretty innocuous with regards to info about us, all things considered, but it was less tabloid and more... character based, I guess you could say? The subject of my military career came up, and the journalist had all this speculation as to why nobody's ever seen me with Steve at military events, or repping the US Army in public."
Bucky sighs deeply. "I don't want to give his critics easy ammo about his 'disrespectful military boyfriend' or some shit. At an event like this... I feel like I'll be expected to go Full Metal Jacket, and that's not something I want."
Alan sits back thoughtfully for a number of long moments, processing Bucky's words and thinking about his response. To have something to do with his hands, Bucky takes another cookie off the plate in front of him.
At length, Alan speaks in a measured, thoughtful tone. "As the regs go, you're well within your rights as 'honourably discharged' to wear your uniform should you wish to. However," he pauses, observing Bucky carefully, "that's optional. There's absolutely nothing and no-one forcing you into that decision."
Bucky sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. "I'm not... I'm not trying to flip the bird to the US Army or the government or whatever. It was a chapter that took up a significant portion of my young adult life. But that chapter's now closed. A hell of a lot of things happened to me before I enlisted, and I hope a hell of a lot of things will happen to me after, as well, that have nothing to do with my service.
"The Army and my involvement is not my entire personality. I'm a son and a brother and a partner and a social worker. Cat owner. New Yorker. All of those things and more come before 'soldier' in my mind."
Bucky sits up straighter, getting a little fire under him. "It's also not the only thing that links me to Steve, or that we have in common. If people see us together, I don't want them making a huge deal about us being 'US Army boyfriends' or some shit, because our relationship is built on more than just the fact that we both served."
Alan nods at his statements. "I'm all for those whose service has made up a big part of their life and they hold close... but if that's not for you, that's not wrong. I'm proof it's not the only way to live."
Bucky's known that for a long time, has even had similar conversations with Benjamin and Chris and his father before. But to hear Alan say it so plainly in the face of his mounting anxiety about the Pearl Harbour trip... a feeling of deep-seated relief begins to pool at the base of his spine.
There's no-one he respects more when it comes to making a life outside of his service than Alan. After his military career, Alan went on to become a respected and beloved faculty member in the English department of Queens College.
Bucky remembers so clearly going to Alan and Margaret's house at Christmas when he was young, and seeing dozens of holiday cards slung over string and hung around the living room as decorations, as he received so many well-wishes from his students each year. His elementary school brain could never fathom a teacher being that popular, despite loving his Uncle Alan.
More than anything now, Bucky appreciates that Alan made an entire full and rich life for much longer than he was ever at war. It's something Bucky holds close to his heart as an example, something he hopes to be lucky enough to achieve himself.
Bucky lets out a breath through pursed lips. "Thank you for saying that, I guess I really needed to be reminded. The thing is... I know I'm not wrong in not wanting to get in the uniform again, but if I don't... am I still supporting Steve?" He runs a finger around the rim of his ceramic mug. "I'm going because he's asked for my presence and support. This is a pretty big deal for him, I know he's nervous about it... will me upholding my feelings on the Army sabotage his whole deal?"
Alan ponders Bucky's questions in silence. "I suppose that's something that only Steve himself can answer. But if you'll allow me some educated guesses..." Alan pauses and doesn't continue until Bucky nods in assent, "what I knew before meeting him, and what I've gleaned afterwards leads me to believe he's someone that wouldn't be embarrassed by you maintaining this boundary you've set in your life.
"I also get the impression that he's asked for your support as a partner rather than a military accessory to make him look good. Be that support in any way you deem appropriate. If it were in a uniform, that's fine. But if it's not... a smart suit would do the job just as well."
Alan stops and holds up a finger. "But knowing the Army as I do, I would suggest that in order to appease the brass that you're not wearing a uniform, perhaps still wear your service medals on said suit."
Bucky sits back in the chair and pictures himself sitting in the audience at Pearl Harbour, wearing a nice blue suit with his medals. It's... not a distasteful thought.
"You know, I think I could pull that off," he says with a small smile.
Alan gives an approving nod, before pushing himself to his feet. "I'd be surprised if you couldn't, you're a Barnes, after all." He walks over to the mantlepiece and opens the lid of a small, decoratively carved wooden chest. Inside is a velvet box, which he removes before sitting back down.
"In any case, a smart suit is nothing without the right accessory." Alan opens the box and Bucky peers over the lid. They look to be old service medals, but a little too old to be Alan's.
"Are they... Grandpa Jack's?" Bucky asks.
"They are indeed," Alan replies. He moves them gently with his fingers to pick up a small, gold pin at the bottom of the box. It looks small between the fingers of Alan's large hands. He holds it out to Bucky, who takes it carefully. Within the circle is the flying 'ruptured duck' insignia.
"It's dad's Honorable Discharge pin," Alan tells him. "The Ruptured Duck pins allowed a veteran to wear his uniform for up to thirty days after being discharged without getting in hot water for wearing a uniform past their service. It was looked on favourably when they went to apply for jobs... employers could see their prospective employee was returning from war.
"Dad wasn't terribly fond of wearing his medals out -- even on official occasions -- and he didn't like a fuss to be made. But he wore this all the time as a tie pin proudly because, as he once told me, 'ducks really are the most magnificent fowl'."
At the quote, Alan softens his gruff register and affects a distinct voice that Bucky remembers sounding a lot like his grandfather. It sparks something in his chest and he bursts into laughter at the memory. Bucky's response gets a few chuckles out of Alan, too.
Bucky laughs so much a couple of tears leak out of the corner of his eye. Whether it's from the laughter or wistful memory and missing his grandpa, he can't quite say. He uses his thumb to swipe some of the wetness away. "Man, what was his obsession with ducks anyway?"
Alan's laughter fades, leaving a nostalgic smile on his face. "You know, I think it was because my grandfather used to hunt them, and dad always felt bad about it."
Bucky looks down at the pin and smiles, a little sadly. "Yeah, that sounds like him, all right."
"Keep the pin," Alan tells him, "and if it makes you laugh when you think of him, he'd be tickled pink."
Touched, Bucky rubs his thumb over the duck. If he goes back into his mind, Bucky has seen this pin on his grandpa Jack's tie on formal occasions from when he was a kid. Combined with the monogrammed ring that has become part of his daily outfit, he feels good about adding the tie pin to his future ensemble.
"Thanks, Uncle Alan," Bucky says, leaning forward and shaking Alan's hand warmly.
"You'll do him proud just being there," Alan tells him.
As Bucky looks back down at the pin, Margaret pokes her head in the room. "Are you two finished cackling like a pair of crows on a fence?"
Bucky grins. "I didn't know your husband could do such a great impression of grandpa Jack," he says.
Margaret smiles and enters the room. "Oh, he doesn't do it often, but when he does... it's just like I remember Jackson talking. Softly, but with an earnestness that was hard to argue with." She squeezes Bucky's shoulder. "If you're not rushing off anywhere, do you have time to stay for lunch? We'd love the company."
Bucky puts one of his hands over his aunt's hand and gives her digits a squeeze. "You know, I think I could carve out some time, especially when it involves your food, Aunt Marg."
"Excellent," she beams, "You've probably got time to also help me set the table, then," she adds cheerfully and breezes back through the family room entrance.
Bucky watches her walk away and shakes his head. "Savage," he remarks before carefully pocketing the pin and standing.
"Be grateful you're not on wash-up duty," Alan stage-whispers.
"I heard that!" Marg calls from the kitchen.