Summary: Bucky never expected to see this day.
"Gene Ellen Roewer."
His heart is pounding, mouth dry in anticipation.
"Jeffrey T. Rogan."
This is it.
"Steven Grant Rogers."
The Avengers' cheers fill the air, Bucky's whoops carrying even as the next name is called. Even from where they're seated in the back of the crowd, Bucky can see the blush painting Steve's cheeks a faint rose. Steve receives his diploma with a bashful grin and walks off stage to rejoin the maroon and gold mass of his classmates.
Bucky shares a smug grin with Sam beside him. He can't help being overwhelmed by the excitement bubbling just beneath the surface, unused to the giddiness that's built in a steady crescendo since Steve handed the whole team the graduation announcements weeks ago.
When Sam had asked during one of their monthly meet ups if they'd ever thought of life outside of being a soldier, Bucky hadn't hesitated to point out that Steve could've totally made it as an artist. Steve had nearly choked on his beer as Bucky told Sam about the breathtaking sketches and art supplies that littered their apartment once upon a time, and the classes Steve took for a bit before money really got tight and he was forced to drop out.
"Why haven't you finished up?" Sam asked and Steve had just shrugged an answer about more important things than getting a degree. But Bucky knows Steve, knows how important that degree was to Steve back then, one last wish of his mother's before she passed. He's got a lot of regrets from during and after the war, but one of Bucky's greatest regrets was being able to help Steve finish school. But money isn't an issue anymore. So he'd done his homework and discovered Brooklyn College was still around. He called the dean, inquiring about their degree program and getting assurance that the school could be discrete, and enrolled Steve in a semester of art classes.
"Just try it, Stevie. What can it hurt?"
The rest of the ceremony is a blur and before he knows it, Bucky's cheering with the rest as the graduates throw their caps in the air. His heart feels full to bursting as he watches Steve make his way over to them, pausing here and there to share hugs and take pictures with classmates. Despite the initial awe, Bucky's been surprised and grateful for how quick the kids were to embrace Steve as one of them, even going so far as to fend off nosy paparazzi who'd come sniffing around once word of Steve's attendance spread. Watching Steve now, Bucky can see the stress and pressure of being a national icon melt away to leave just Steve...just the guy Bucky's known since they were a couple of kids wrapped up in each other who refused to back down from a fight.
"You alright there, Barnes?" Tony asks.
Bucky nods, still grinning, feels the burn of tears threatening. He can't explain what this means to him, the love and pride and disbelief and surrealism that are all mixed up in him right now. Sam bumps his shoulder.
"Didn't think you'd ever get to see this, huh?"
Bucky laughs. Of course Sam would get it. Sam always seems to know. "Nah. Global depressions and world wars tend to put a damper on things like this."
Sam's laughter joins his as Steve finally reaches them.
"Congratulations, Steve," Bruce says.
"Yeah, welcome to the collegiate superheroes club," Tony adds.
Steve shakes his head fondly as Nat asks, "How's it feel to finally get that diploma?"
Bucky watches Steve's eyes light up and thinks I'm glad he gets to have this.
Blue eyes meet his as Steve answers, "Pretty great, actually." He pauses, eyes beckoning and Bucky is more than happy to obey, stepping closer. "But every artist needs inspiration and I couldn't have done it without Bucky."
This time Bucky's beaming. "No need to be modest on my account, Punk."
Steve chuckles and wraps strong arms around Bucky's waist, tugging him forward. "Jerk," he whispers playfully. "Thank you."
And Bucky knows those words encompass more than just this—they include years of nights spent holding frightened vigil over Steve's sickly form, watching each others' back on the streets and in the battlefield...they're about companionship and brotherhood and love.
Bucky responds in the only way he can, pulling Steve down to kiss that lush mouth and brand the words always and I love you and you're welcome into the velvet heat of Steve's mouth. Somewhere in the background a couple of Steve's classmates whistle and catcall. Steve grins into the kiss, fingers tangling in the hair at Bucky's nape.
"Alright alright! Save it for the grad party, you two."
Bucky gives Clint the finger, moaning pointedly into Steve's mouth before drawing away with a quick nibble to his bottom lip. He meets Steve's gaze, feeling his breath hitch at the adoring look he finds there, even as they share identical goofy grins.
This…this is bliss. And for once, Bucky's just going to enjoy it.
