Steve and Peggy danced to the music, until one of them felt a tap on their shoulder.
"Mind if I cut in?" asked Bucky.
This Bucky still had a long road of recovery ahead, but he hadn't killed the Starks. (In fact, he and Steve were Tony's godfathers now that Howard knew they were friends of "Potts.") He hadn't shot Steve. (Although Steve accidentally shot him once during the rescue.) He hadn't been tortured for another forty years.
His hair got a lot of beatnik comments, as did their living arrangement, but Steve and Bucky were long past caring about what other people thought. Peggy never had to begin with.
"Please," she said. "We both keep trying to lead."
It was easier to let people see the picture of Peggy and not the one he knew was tucked underneath. It was easier to say "love of my life" than "loves of my life," and no one needed Steve's representation in that Post Snap world where people's private lives barely registered.
"I thought you said that was our song anyway," said Bucky. "The one playing the night we met again?"
When Steve left the future, his Bucky had been smiling. When his Bucky said, "I'll miss you, buddy," when Steve didn't say it back, they both knew exactly what Steve was going to do- what he could do now that his Bucky was safe.
Now Captain America- the new Captain America- needed his Sergeant.
Now Steve wasn't Captain America anymore, and this Bucky was also his Bucky, and Peggy was just as she'd always been, they were all growing old together in the time they always should have been.
"It was our song," said Steve. "Why do you think I put it on?"