Work Text:
“I never saw the sun shinin' so bright, never saw things goin' so right/ Noticing the days hurrying by, when you're in love, my how they fly by/ Blue days, all of them gone/ Nothin' but blue skies from now on”
You cracked the kitchen window, letting the soft summer breeze kiss your skin. The smell of honeysuckle invaded your home like a welcomed friend.
The foam kitchen mat had indentions from where you stood so often gazing out the window at your absolute treasure of a husband. One of your favorite things was watching Bucky feed the goats. He talked to them in plain conversation as if they’d respond in English at any given moment. You giggled as you heard him scold one for “not sharing the hay.”
You grabbed the cream colored bar soap that perched itself on the sink and lathered it between your hands, getting a good amount of suds to scrub the dirt from under your fingernails. You paid particularly close attention to the texture, the soap melted nicely and wasn’t grainy or crumbly. The soft scent of lavender hit your nose gently, the essential oils mixed together nicely this time. This batch of goat’s milk soap turned out better than the last few sets.
Bucky was irrationally upset that he didn’t get the soap to be perfect the first time around. He was used to being a jack of all trades, so when he wasn’t good at something on the first try, his ego took a hit and he was so whiny about it. He needed to lay his head on your lap and pout for at least 15 minutes.
So- with lots of patience and encouragement (and a bit of teasing about the male ego) he had gotten the hang of it. You could see it now: The Barnes’ Soap Company. Soaps handmade by a 100+ year old former assassin, half term congressman, ex-avenger and World War two veteran. AND his wife. Because let’s face it, Bucky includes you in all his shenanigans- whether you’re willing to be part of them or not.
You did love it though, especially nowadays when his shenanigans didn’t include charity galas, team meetings, or reading insufferably long congressional documents. But rather milking his goats- yes his goats-,making soaps, gardening, and putting funny hats on Alpine and snapping her photo.
You swore that cat was more like a dog, she followed Bucky around everywhere, even to the goats pen- which she wasn’t particularly fond of. Anywhere he went, she was right between his legs. It was funny how someone as skilled as Bucky would trip over a little white ball of fur. “She’s just so fast” he says.
Bucky had grown fond of livestock during his time in Wakanda, so when he asked you move to a little cottage in the country with a couple of goats and a small garden, you couldn’t say no. You couldn’t ever really tell him no; you wouldn’t. As much as he was putty in your hands, you were equally malleable in his.
The “small garden” had turned into what you referred to as the jungle. The little garden bed was completely overtaken with cucumber plants. Those damn things chocked out your zucchini and marigolds. If you ventured past the leafy vines, you’d find some corn, potatoes, and tomatoes. Those were the only things safe from the cucumber-apocalypse. If you ventured beyond that, you’d find might even find a fruit tree or two.
Bucky insisted on planting 3-4 seeds in each hole instead of the recommended 1-2 because he “really really” wanted them to grow. And you just couldn't say no to those baby blue eyes and that dorky smile.
Now you were overrun with cucumbers. All your neighbors and friends had cucumbers and pickles. You were pretty sure they were sick of cucumbers and pickles because you were getting sick of cucumbers and pickles. Luckily, the goats would eat anything, so their meals consisted of hay and overripe garden vegetables.
After drooling over your husband for too long- let’s be real, theres no such thing as drooling over Bucky Barnes for too long, you realized you needed to start on dinner.
Steve and Sam were coming over for y’all’s weekly get together and Bucky asked you to “pretty please with sugar on top make that one pasta dish.”
As you were readying the ingredients, you heard the side door fling open followed by a “MRRP!” and “babe!!!”
“In the kitchen!” You called out.
Four soft paws and two combat boot laden feet padded into the kitchen. Alpine beat Bucky to the kitchen by 3 whole seconds, she immediately wove herself between your legs, purring and rubbing her face on your calf.
Bucky came hurrying in all excited, fist closed around something. He stood directly beside you, a huge grin on his face.
“Guess what’s in my hand.” He prompted.
You turned away from the stove to face him, eyebrow quirked, wondering what tiny live animal he was probably concealing.
“What?” You asked, suspiciously.
He didn’t reply, increasing your suspicions.
“James Buchanan Barnes if you brought another frog into my kitchen I’ll-“ He uncurled his fingers to reveal the smallest, most pitiful looking lemon you had ever seen.
“Looks like we can make lemonade tonight!” He joked.
You immediately started cackling, laughing so hard you doubled over.
God how Bucky loved your laugh. He’d do anything to hear it, including boasting about the first lemon from the tree in the backyard. He clutched his side in laughter, eyes watering.
You loved the sound of him happy. He deserved it- being happy, being at peace. No more fighting, no more missions. Just peace. Just home; just you.
He sat the lemon down and went to wash his hands, he knew better than to touch his lady with dirt and hay on him. Plus he wanted to help with dinner.
As soon and his hands were towel dried, they immediately wrapped around you from behind. His chin came to rest on your head. He hummed in contentment- Another happy sound you adored.
Although, you had to act like his humming didn’t make you melt inside. If anyone deserved to be content- it was Bucky.
“You gonna turn around and give me a kiss, sweetheart, or do I gotta beg for it?” He quipped, already knowing he could have all the kisses he ever wanted.
You turned and looped your arms around his neck.
“You know you never have to beg.” You mumbled as his lips met yours.
The kiss was tender and sweet, full of love- like it always was. No matter if the kiss was soft, or needy, or desperate, or more lascivious, it was always filled with love.
“Blue skies smilin' at me/ Nothin' but blue skies do I see/ Blue days, all of them gone/ Nothin' but blue skies from now on”
Over dinner you, Bucky, Sam, and Steve shared a good meal and lots of laughs. It was good for the soul and it did Bucky good to have his support systems all in once place. Alpine enjoyed all the extra loving she got. And, of course, Bucky sent both friends home with cucumbers and goats milk soap.
You stood on the porch waving bye to Steve and Sam as they pulled out of the driveway. When they were out of sight, you went to sit on Bucky’s lap in the rocking chair.
You did indeed have your own rocking chair, but why would you sit in a chair when you had a perfectly good lap to sit in instead?
You plopped yourself down on your husband, sitting sideways so you could put your head on his shoulder, legs draped over the arm of the chair.
“You comfy?” He asked you, smirking- loving your choice of seating.
“Very.” You replied, enjoying the warmth of his skin radiating through the soft cotton of his blue shirt. The faint scent of his cologne that clung to the fibers smelled amazing, you told him that one was your favorite, so it was basically the only one he wore.
He chuckled in response to your sitting position. In truth, he loved that you curled up on his lap. Just like Alpine
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the chirp of the crickets, the buzzing cicadas, and the songs of the evening birds.
The slow rhythm of Bucky’s rocking and the gentle way his fingers traced your skin was nearly enough to put you to sleep. You felt relaxed; peaceful.
You had nearly drifted off when the cadence Bucky was keeping with the rocking chair, stopped.
You raised your head up to look at him, you were about to say something witty and tease him about interrupting your almost nap, but you bit your tongue when you saw the look in his eyes.
By now, you could tell his looks apart- perks of being his life partner. This was the one he had when he wanted to say something big and emotional. Before you could inquire, he began to speak.
“Thank you.” He simply said, his voice soft and low.
“For what, baby?” You questioned.
“For being my peace.” He replied, his blue eyes still peering into yours.
And with that, he broke you- nearly completely in half.
Bucky did, in fact, have a way with words. He was a poet of sorts; when he really put his mind to it. He made you cry happy tears with his words many times. Like in his wedding vows to you and another time with sweet messages written in anniversary cards.
Sometimes what gets you is just the way he is- how proud you are of him and how far he had come.
You knew he longed for peace; that it was his priority and that he had fought a multitude of battles- both physical and emotional- to get to a place of comfort.
For you to be that to him- It hit you like a freight train. You stayed silent for a long moment, your brain working hard to come up with a response. But how could you respond to that? The depth of your connection with him ran deep into your bones- how could you put that into words? “You are my peace, Bucky.” You repeated the words back to him, your finger tapping on his chest. “You’re my everything.”
He smiled. A real, genuine, toothy smile.
“You’re my everything.” He repeated.
Yes, he reverberated your words, but he meant it. You could tell by the way he kissed you. Intense. All-encompassing. Warm. It was all you ever wanted; He was all you ever wanted.
“Blue days
All of them gone
Nothing but blue skies
From now on”