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Just a Little Overdue

Because Bucky deserves to be well-dressed sometimes.  And Ant-Man.  I definitely blame this on Ant-Man.

Title: Just a Little Overdue
Fandom: Captain America/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Steve/Bucky
Ratings/Warnings: Ridiculous fluff and well dressed men.
Word Count: 1534
Disclaimer: If I owned it it would be happy.
Summary: Bucky promised Steve that they'd go dancing when the war was over; it's time to make that vow come true.

“Hey, Cap. You've got a visitor.”

“Just a minute, Sam. I need to finish this,” Steve replies without looking up. He's been trying to get his shield’s new handles positioned correctly for almost twenty minutes and he's not going to stop just when they’re almost right.

“No, man, seriously. This one shouldn't wait.”

The blond does look up then, reaching up to remove the sewing needle from between his teeth so that he can ask Sam to explain. It must be someone really important to make the other man use his Falcon voice but Steve has barely gotten a word out before Sam interrupts.

“Come on, come on,” he says, tugging the captain's shield out of his hands. “If there was more time I'd make you change, cause shirtless and sweatpants? On a Friday? It's a little pathetic, even with your Pecs. But I guess you'll have to do...

“And so we're just gonna stick this over here,” Sam continues, putting the shield down on the coffee table and overriding Steve's protests with the firm but gentle insistence that he does so well. He chivvies the blond to his feet and then shoves him forward, Steve halfway to the door before the motion registers.

“Look, will you just tell me what's going on?” the captain asks with an edge of exasperation. “Unless the President himself suddenly decided to appear on my front porch, I really don't understand what the fuss is all about…”

But then Steve sees his visitor through the front window and his protest dies inside his throat. Because it's Bucky standing there, Bucky the way that Steve remembers him. Hair short and slicked back from his face, those gorgeous lips curved in a faint smile as he looks toward the street – he's even wearing a suit, dapper and old-fashioned with a jaunty Fedora on his head. That's what Bucky used to wear for dancing, his one good suit always starched and pressed. Poor or not, the other man had been a damn sharp dresser and the captain is almost certain that he's dreaming until he spies a hint of metal beneath his friend's left cuff.

Because that's a piece of the Winter Soldier there amidst his memories and the sight snaps Steve from his paralysis. So the blond runs forward, shoving the front door open with a shout.


The other man turns at his exclamation and when Steve meets his gaze, the captain's knees go weak. For while there are still shadows in those blue eyes, the brilliance of Bucky's smile is far more powerful.

“Hey, Stevie. It's good to see you.” Bucky says, the joy in his gaze warming Steve from head to toe. “Sorry to keep you waiting until now.”

“You better be, jerk,” the blond retorts before reaching out one shaking hand. He has to choke back a sob when Bucky takes it, Steve's fingers touching flesh instead of nothing as they've done so often in his dreams. “You're really here.”

“In the flesh, sweetheart,” the other man murmurs, lacing their fingers together and tugging Steve closer until they're standing face to face.

“I don't remember everything, but I remember you,” Bucky continues, raising his hand to stroke metal fingers across the captain’s cheek. “I remember that I promised you forever and I meant it; I remember that we were supposed to go dancing when the war was finished and I'm about seven decades overdue. So I've come to take my fella on a date if he's still interested.”

“Of course he's interested. Your fellow would have to be crazy to give up a catch like you,” Steve replies, his smile so wide it almost hurts. While there are probably a score of questions that he should be asking, Bucky just answered the only ones that really matter and so the blond leans in to kiss him tenderly. It's been too long; much, much too long since Steve had the chance to do this and they're both breathing a little heavy by the time that he pulls back.

“I would love to go dancing with you, Buck. Only... I'm not exactly dressed for it,” the blond says, waving at the sweatpants-no-shirt ensemble that Sam thought so little of.

“I don’t know, Stevie, you look pretty good to me,” Bucky says with a smirk, his appreciative gaze stroking across the other man’s bare chest. “But don’t worry; I’m not going to leave my best guy hanging on a Friday night.”

Bucky points to something behind Steve, the captain turning to see another suit on the bench by the front door. Dark blue to Bucky’s black, the other man even managed to find him shoes and a matching Trilby somewhere – everything that he needed for a real night out on the town. In fact, this outfit is exactly what he described on those long evenings back in Brooklyn when he and Bucky had planned out the dates that they'd go on if they could. If Steve hadn't been too sick for swing dancing and their relationship illegal, even whispers enough to ruin both their lives.

Indeed, for all their dreaming, the blond never truly thought that they would get here and he has to bury his head in Bucky's shoulder to hold back his tears.

“Hey, I've got you, punk,” Bucky murmurs gently, stroking Steve's hair until he stops sniffling. “Everything gonna be fine. We're gonna go out and have a grand old time, dance and eat and do all the things that I always promised you. So go on and get changed; I made a reservation for dinner and we don't want to be late.”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm all right,” the blond says, wiping at his eyes. “Dinner and a dance sounds perfect so let me get presentable.”

Steve leans in to kiss Bucky one more time before grabbing his suit and heading back inside. He passes Sam in the hallway, the other man dropping in behind him on the way to his room.

“So what’s the verdict, Cap? Is your friend back to normal now?” Sam asks, totally not sneaking glances when the captain starts to change.

“Bucky's Bucky and we're going dancing,” Steve replies, doing up the last few buttons on his suit. It fits almost perfectly, the blond settling his hat on his head and then turning to Sam with a grin. “Do I meet your standards now?”

“Um, yeah,” the other man says, sounding a little stunned as he takes in Steve's new clothes. “Right... um... I mean... not bad for a fossil, you know, and I dig the hat for sure. But is dancing really a good idea? What if this is some kind of trick? Or your metal-armed buddy out there loses it again? I'll admit he cleans up pretty but that doesn't make him safe.”

“Bucky's never been safe, Sam, but he's not going to hurt me,” Steve replies, waving off his friend's concerns. “I know him and he knows me and I've been waiting on this dance since I was seventeen. So, for once in my life, I'm gonna do what makes me happy instead of what I should.”

“Well, I can't say you haven't earned it,” Sam admits with a sigh. “All right, then. Go have fun. But you better call me if you get in trouble, otherwise I'll kick your ass.”

“Is there a curfew too? Do you want me home by ten?” Steve asks with some amusement, though he's honestly touched that Sam cares enough to fret. “Seriously, I'll be fine. And if someone does decide to attack New York tonight, I'm trusting you and the other Avengers to handle it yourselves. Captain America has better things to do right now.”

Indeed, he does, the look in Bucky's eyes when Steve walks back out onto the porch driving all thoughts of the Avengers from his mind.

“Fuck, Stevie. You sure do clean up nice,” the other man murmurs, staring at Steve hungrily. For a second the blond thinks that they may not make it to the restaurant but then Bucky pulls himself back together and reaches out to take Steve's hand.

“You ready, sweetheart? Let's go paint this town.”

Bucky wraps an arm around Steve's waist, tucking the blond against his side like he used to do when Steve was small. Somehow they still fit together despite the change in angle and Steve doesn't think he's ever felt more at home in this century then he does right now.

Although, that said, the captain can't help but wonder, “You do know that no one actually wears clothes like this anymore?”

“Then we'll be the sharpest guys around. I promised you dancing, sweetheart, and I aim to do it right,” Bucky replies with a cocky smile and really, Steve can hardly argue about that. Not when an evening out with Bucky is all he’s ever wanted and the other man looks so swanky in his suit.