( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

[chatona]

the 'fake married' meme

be it for a job, in order to get your inheritance or to fool your nosy neighbours, you are pretending to be married. now the question is, do you want it to be real or can you hardly wait for it to be over?

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Steve Rogers ✪ mcu

[libertes]

[misdated]

[ Although his memory still isn’t a hundred percent, and maybe it never will be, Bucky remembers being sent on missions. They were usually cold and dangerous, involving a lot of crawling through mud and underbrush in the middle of the night to some enemy encampment. Occasionally there was an infiltration job. Maybe one or two that required a disguise. But more often than not, they typically ended with an assault, guns blazing and enemy soldiers dying in droves.

Things were different with Hydra. There was less dirt and noise, more ice and stealth and long periods of silent darkness. And pain. Bucky remembers a lot of pain. More with Hydra than the American army, but pain’s been a constant since he went off to war and never really came home.

There’s no pain on this mission. No cold. No discomfort. He’s with his best friend, his other half, the one person in the world he trusts beyond the faintest hint of doubt. In a way, it’s a little absurd. Steve’s terrible at undercover work. He thinks he’s great at it, but even if he didn’t know him better than he knows himself, Bucky could spot him a mile off. This whole honeymoon in Vegas thing they’re doing to try to catch a Hydra agent who’d gone to ground following the collapse of SHIELD seems a little beyond Steve’s pay grade.

But there’s no one else Bucky could actually fake being married to, so it was Steve in his crappy disguises or scrapping the plan with the most chance of success and attempting a frontal assault that might cause their quarry to go to ground. What else could they really do?

Their arrival goes without a hitch. They get to Vegas, they get their room, they go to dinner, and they have a nice time together seeing the sights, scoping out the territory and trying to get a read on their target. As supersoldiers, they don’t need to sleep, but regular men, on the first night of their honeymoon no less, do and eventually they have to call it a night. Steve goes to take a shower and Bucky should put on his pajamas, turn on the TV, maybe get out a book, and settle in for the night. But he should do a lot of things, and over the course of his life, he’s proven not particularly inclined to doing what he should.

When the sound of the shower cuts off, he strips down to his boxers, runs his fingers through his hair until it’s a rumpled mess, and then pours himself across the bed in his best attempt at a seductive sprawl. That there are still rose petals strewn over the bedspread—part of the hotel’s thoughtful nod to romance, the champagne and selection of chocolate currently sitting out of the way on the nearby table —makes it all that much more ludicrous, which is entirely the point. Because when the door opens and Steve walks out, Bucky shoots him his most sultry come-hither look and pats the top of the mattress with his flesh hand. ]

Come here, Steve. [ A lifetime ago, Bucky considered himself gifted at the art of seduction. He doesn’t remember how he used to do it, but he tries his damnedest now, pitching his voice as low and throaty as possible without making himself sound so idiotic that he gives the game away. ] It’s time to consummate our marriage.

[libertes]

[ It is known, far and wide, throughout SHIELD new and old, that Steve Rogers doesn't like undercover work. Not to say he's terrible at it, but he's really not so great at it. Something like that requires a finesse he hasn't yet crafted for himself, no matter how much he'd like to believe he has. However, there was literally no way in a flying fresh hell that he was going to turn down this sort of mission with Bucky.

Maybe he should have as there are just too many real and true feelings there, and it would be far, far too easy to get wrapped up inside this lie. And Steve doesn't even like to lie, but this time he's willing to make that sacrifice.

From the moment they get the mission specs, Steve becomes just a tiny bit distracted. He knows he shouldn't, but that doesn't make it any easier. To say he hasn't given this topic thought before would be an outright lie: he has. Many times. It's the one secret he keeps. He doesn't want to ever pressure Bucky into anything, force him to take a step toward something that's too much of a commitment. They've been playing things easy, careful, since Bucky's been back and Steve is so grateful to have what they do have. But, he's not going to lie a little to himself and entertain the idea that this is real.

This is the first time he's been to Vegas, so the ogling and awe at everything isn't faked. Everything is so busy and grand and bigger than life. But, it's fun and made all the more so by having Bucky right there by his side. The fact that they can hold hands or share a quick kiss just compacts the idea of fun and excitement. Though he isn't ready for sleep or to call it a night, he knows they have to, but it's hardly with a heavy heart that he follows Bucky back to their hotel room. It's a lot nicer than a lot of places he's ever been, but something takes away from it all with all the equipment hooked up. Not to mention all the weapons.

But it doesn't matter. He's with the love of his life and wouldn't want to be anywhere else. (Except, of course, here without the whole SHIELD op, but he's not being choosey.) So, he showers quick enough, not wanting to waste much time alone and he's sort of kicking himself for not asking Bucky to join him—he chickened out, no big deal. When he exits the bathroom, he has a pair of cotton pants on (blue plaid; very sexy, clearly), and a towel half draped over his shoulders and head to finish drying his hair. Just as he's opening his mouth to ask Bucky something about whatever (it's not important), Bucky beats him to the punch and it's all Steve can do to remain upright. He does trip, sending the towel sliding off to heap on the floor. He recovers quick enough, even if his mouth gaping open like a slack-jawed idiot.

A moment later, a devious smile curls on his lips and he takes a flying leap to tackle Bucky on the bed. He's grinning, happy to be trapped in the moment with him and aims to plant kisses anywhere he can reach. ]

I believe you're right, Buck. Maybe we shouldn't waste any more time.

[misdated]

[ Sometimes Bucky forgets that things have changed. That the world’s moved on, that Steve’s not quite the same guy he’d been before the war, that there are years between them now that they’ve missed, moments that have changed them in ways that the other is only just discovering. When it happens, when he’s reminded that the scrawny little punk from Brooklyn doesn’t exist anymore and his chest constricts so badly it hurts and his throat tightens until he thinks he’s going to suffocate, he tries to remind himself that it’s worse for Steve.

Steve went into the ice and woke up in the future, but he’s still mostly the same. It’s only Bucky who recognizes the differences, only Bucky who looks a little too low sometimes or waits for a reaction that doesn’t come and is somewhat blindsided by the one that has taken its place. He knows that in a lot of ways, it's Steve who’s dealing with an entirely new person. One who doesn’t smile as often or as freely, someone darker, more troubled, with patchy memories and the occasional black mood swing. He tries so hard to be the man Steve remembers, the one he himself remembers more frequently now, but sometimes he slips and he knows how hard that is for Steve.

Thankfully today, when it happens, it’s not the end of the world.

When Steve doesn’t react by flushing and stammering and getting flustered or hiding in the bathroom, Bucky doesn’t feel that crippling sense of loss and displacement. He does trip, which is clumsy enough and so completely Steve that the seductive smirk melts into a genuine grin. No matter how much time and distance work its way between them, some things never change, and it’s a comfort Bucky doesn’t realize he takes until it happens and he’s smiling at his smirking friend, thinking… Wait.

Smirking.

Bucky blinks, and in that time, that infinitesimal instant, Steve’s airborne. He can’t react fast enough, can’t get his mouth open to tell him to wait, hold on or get his hand up to try to ward him off of just leaping onto him. Because there he is, on top of him, all two hundred plus pounds of half-naked supersoldier, pressing him into the mattress and Bucky, unable to help himself, starts laughing. ]

You... [ Between the laughter and the kisses, Bucky can do little more than splutter, trying to kiss back and laugh and breathe and talk all at the same time. It doesn't work out so well. Eventually he gets himself untangled enough to get his flesh hand on Steve's face, which he cups gently and grins up at without care for the rose petals he can feel sticking to the back of his head. ] If you've been this excited about it, you should've said something. We could've skipped dinner.

[ He's kidding. Mostly. In the way that he's really not. ]

Sure you're up for this, Rogers? I'm not gonna go easy on you in your old age.

[libertes]

[ Things have been changing since the beginning of time. For Steve, things have been changing rapidly since 1943 and continue to do so each day. From the moment he found Bucky in that Hydra base, he'd known things had changed for his dearest friend and between them. Even now things change—they've gone from enemies to hesitant acquaintances (that part, if Steve's honest, was the hardest to deal with), to friends, and now this. Whatever it is, he's not going to label it. At least, not with anything other than utmost happiness. In the beginning it had been hard, but Steve's always been stubborn and he was stubborn enough to never give up on Bucky. He's not looking for the man he remembers from before the war, just like Steve can't be who he was before the war. It changed them, for better or for worse.

There's a million other ways that Steve would've had them end up like this, but he's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. He can't. He's got Bucky—real and whole and hale. There are more good days than bad ones lately and that's more than Steve could've dared to hope.

And being able to hear Bucky laugh like this plucks hard at Steve's heart. All at once it makes him want to cry out of sheer happiness and laugh right along with him. One he does, the other he doesn't. He laughs, of course, because he can't stop himself; it's infectious. It sounds so carefree that Steve wants to taste it.

He doesn't, though, since Bucky starts talking, and Steve becomes completely rapt. The sharpness of his own smile softens, then, and he turns his face to press a kiss to the palm of Bucky's hand. It's not even about the sex (though, to be fair, he enjoys that part quite a bit), the excitement that coils tight in his belly is just from being near Bucky.

Bracing himself on one arm, the other shifts so he can run his hand down Bucky's arm, brushing off a few stray rose petals along the way. There are some stuck in his hair now and Steve says nothing, does nothing; he likes it. Wrinkling his nose, Steve shakes his head. ]

Nah. [ He shifts himself into a better position, gently nudging one of Bucky's legs over so he can fit between them. The soft smile returns just before he ducks his head to press a quick kiss against Bucky's lips. ] You need your strength. Not gonna let you outta bed until we have to leave.

[misdated]

[ At the nudge, Bucky spreads his legs to make more room for Steve like he belongs there, fitted there between his legs. It’s not even sexual, though it could be as easily as the next breath that he draws into his lungs. It’s just this, the way they fit together, like two pieces of something that was never really meant to be apart. The serum changed that fit once, Hydra did it again years later, but instead of being destroyed, it’s like they’ve grown into it. Like maybe this is what they were meant to be all along.

It’s a little more philosophical than Bucky’s given toward being even on the best of days. But that’s Steve for him. He’s just got this way about him. Turns tougher, stronger men into overgrown saps. It’s been happening all of Bucky’s life, though he’s always tried so hard to pretend that it hasn’t.

He licks his lips when Steve pulls back from kiss, chasing the taste of him, like he’s so greedy for it that he can’t let even a hint of it escape. There’s a smile pulling at his mouth again, wickedly amused, and it reflects in his eyes as they peer up at Steve through the tangle of his hair. ]

Is that right? [ He bends a knee, drawing it up near Steve’s hip like he’s building a trap to keep him there. ] What about you, huh?

[ Sometimes, like now, he wishes that he had more hands. The need to touch Steve is nearly overwhelming and two just isn’t enough. Especially when one isn’t normal. He settles for traces Steve’s cheekbone with his fingertips, outlining his jaw and lightly running a finger along his brow while the other hand hovers near his hip, wanting to touch and yet struggling to make the contact. ]

What about your strength? [ Leaning up, he brushes Steve’s lips with his own. Then sinks his teeth into that enticing bottom one. ] Who said I’m letting you out of bed?

[libertes]

[ They’ve always meant to fit together, it’s true. Steve would attest to it. From boys, to teenagers, to young men, to adults. Steven Rogers and James Barnes were meant to be together. Not even time or serums or psychotic groups hellbent on world domination can change that. Circumstances may split them up more than they’d both like, but two halves of the same soul will always find their way back to each other. And Steve knows now that nothing’s going to change the basic core of them.

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be and no one else he’d rather be with. Bucky’s always been the one he’s wanted.

Right now, hard as it is, he’s not going to focus on waxing poetically about the stars in his eyes, but instead focus on the man beneath him that has fire on his tongue and ice in his touch. Which, as it turns out, is really pretty easy.

He wishes Bucky would touch him more, but he doesn’t want to force anything. It isn’t a secret that Bucky struggles with his left hand and whether or not he wants to use it in situations like these. Steve wants him to feel comfortable with it, encourages the use of it whenever he can, but he understands the hesitancy with which Bucky operates. So, as much as he’d like to just tell Bucky to put it on him, he wants to feel it, or even just physically put Bucky’s hand on him, he doesn’t. Instead he just attempts to not smile as Bucky bites his lip, but that turns out to be some sort of impossibility.

It’s hard not to when they’re in carefree moments like these. They’ve really never been afforded something like this. Even if they are on a mission right now.

Steve ducks down again to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, soft and lingering. One hand rests against Bucky’s side, fingers idly moving in a small tickling sort of motion. Not pulling away fully, he bumps their noses together. ]

Guess we’re in agreement then. [ Steve isn’t a smooth guy by any sense of the term, but he makes the attempt as he transitions from kissing Bucky’s mouth to moving down to his neck and further along to his collarbones. ] We’re just not leaving.

[misdated]

[ There are so many missions Bucky’s gone on where he’s been nothing but professional. Where he’s followed the parameters to the letter, barely cracked a smile, and was a stoic, cold, unpersonable pain in the ass until the bitter end because the difference between walking out of there whole and uninjured and getting hurt was staying sharp and on point. But he just doesn’t have it in him for this. HQ would probably say that it’s a sign that his training has broken down too much, that he’s getting soft in his retirement from being Hydra’s well-oiled gun.

Bucky would offer a different perspective. That someone higher up on the chain of command thought it would be a brilliant idea to assign him a “pretend to be married in the city of decadence” with the love of his life and contrary to Zola’s best attempts, he’s only human. There’s no way in hell he’d ever be able to resist this.

The twitching scritch of fingers at his side interrupts the kiss, makes his hips jerk against Steve’s in a way that isn’t arousal and has him huffing out a quiet, breathless laugh before he can stop it. He can’t remember the last time someone tried to tickle him. Literally. Though the sensation produces the now familiar ghost of a sense that it’s something that he ought to know from experience. Long, half-tortured, half-hilarious experience.

Steve shifting his attention from his mouth to his collarbone gives him the opportunity to try to disguise it with a shivery sort of twitch that’s not the least bit feigned. ]

Good. [ His metal fingers dip in, brush against Steve’s side and jerk back in an inverted flinch, waiting for Steve to do it by giving him the space. But a moment later they inch closer again, slowly extending until the tips rest against his skin. ] I like it here.

[ He cards his flesh hand through Steve’s hair, letting his head fall back against the pillow. Vegas is nice. They can be together without attracting attention, sure, but it’s more than that and he knows it. Probably, he ought to keep his mouth shut, but Steve’s lips on his skin has a habit of loosening his tongue and Bucky’s a little blunter now than he used to be. ]

I wish it was real. Us. [ It comes out before he realizes he’s going to say it, but it isn’t a lie, and he’s not going to back away from it. Of all the things he’s ashamed of in his life, his feelings for Steve aren’t among them. ] I like being married to you.