The Captain Can
Marvel Cinematic Universe; AU; Queer Eye reimagining; no powers
Part Two
'So, Steve,' Bucky says, leaning casually against the worktop in a way that he knows accentuates his toned arms, barely covered in his cap-sleeved tee that proclaims he's "waiting for Friday". 'On a scale of one to nervous-breakdown, how worried are you about what Tony's doing to your apartment right now?'
They're in the kitchen of a restaurant in the downtown area, where the chef is a friend of Bucky's sister. Steve hasn't been allowed back in his home since Tony's team started in on the transformation, so they're filming this segment out and about. Bucky's cool with it—a bit of variety is nice.
As Steve answers, he carefully mixes the sweet peppers, green onion and cilantro into the sliced cabbage and carrot mix, glancing up at Bucky to check he's doing ok.
'Well,' Steve says, chuckling ruefully, 'I don't think he could make it any worse. I mean, you saw it. It's pretty, uh, bland.'
Bucky grins and reaches over to dip a finger into the spicy sesame ginger dressing he'd talked Steve through making. 'Bland. As in, the opposite of what this slaw is going to be.' He brings his finger his mouth, and absolutely does not give himself a mental hi-five when Steve's eyes track the way his tongue nips out to capture the burst of flavor. He definitely doesn't linger a touch longer than is necessary, or give an exaggerated moan of pleasure at the taste. Steve's eyes flicker up to meet his, a faint blush on his cheeks, and Bucky doesn't think he's imagining the charged moment between them. Steve's turned out to be a blast to spend time with this week, not to mention an absolute gentleman, and Bucky suddenly feels like a bit of a heel for teasing him like this. In front of, you know, the global Netflix-watching population.
He clears his throat, suddenly conscious of the cameras that are capturing every moment of their interaction. Bucky dredges up his inner professional and relaxes back into his show-persona: friendly and fun, but with the flirtation dialed back down to something less mortifying.
'So, I think we're about ready to let the slaw marinate in the dressing, while I show your how to make the best damn soy and lime tuna you've ever had in your mouth.' Fuck, why does everything he says sound like a come-on? Buck widens his grin and styles it out. 'Seriously, you'll want to keep this recipe on hand for when you have a special someone over for dinner to your fancy new apartment. It's tasty, bursting with fragrance, and light enough to be great first date food.'
'No pressure then,' Steve says, rolling his eyes.
'Relax.' Bucky goes to grab the tuna from the industrial fridge unit across the kitchen. 'You're in safe hands. I'm a professional.'
'Professional dater?' Steve throws back at him, and then immediately blushes cherry red as Bucky bursts into laughter. 'Uh, that's not what I meant.'
'I assure you, Captain Rogers, I'm not that kind of girl.' Bucky flutters his eyelashes, still chuckling, as Steve gives him an exasperated stare. Bucky hesitates, as he lines the ingredients up on the counter. 'But, for real. Steve. Food is a social thing, romantic or otherwise. Having a few go-to meals that you feel comfortable enough to prepare, that suit your healthy lifestyle and that you know well enough to whip up when you have company? That's a no-brainer. This is an easy way to help you feel more confident entertaining at home.'
He flashes a dazzling smile to lighten the mood, adjusting the red and white paisley bandana that's keeping his hair off his face.
'And nine times out of ten it will totally get you laid.'
'Just pass me the damn tuna,' Steve says, shaking his head. 'What are we doing with this, then?'
:::
Steve doesn't see Bucky on the next day of filming. Instead, he spends it with Bruce and Sam, doing some confidence building exercises aimed at getting him more comfortable spending time around new people again. This translates to volunteering at a local community art project, at a communal garden in one the least privileged parts of the city.
The project team is led by a doe-eyed, red-lipped firecracker called Darcy, who is quickly revealed to be bright, creative and completely without a brain-to-mouth filter. She flirts shamelessly with everyone, but Steve notices how kind she is—in her own, no-nonsense way—with the more reticent among the volunteers. The dichotomy of brash and gentle reminds him a little of his own mother. The thought is bittersweet.
Steve gets allocated a section of the garden and before he knows it he's discussing the potential for a collaborative wall mural with fellow volunteers Peter, Carol and Erik. Carol turns out to be a fellow vet, and they spend a little time sharing their respective homecoming experiences, while sweeping broad, colorful strokes across their shared canvass.
Bruce and Sam have strategically given Steve some space to connect with the other volunteers, though they are close by, being bossed around by Darcy as they help repurpose an old stone statue.
'Seemed like you hit it off with Carol?' Sam says, when they've packed up for the day and said goodbye to everyone.
Steve smiles.
'Yeah. Well, they were all great. That Peter kid is a hoot. I swear, he's some kind of engineering genius but he can barely tie his own shoelaces' He shakes his head, chuckling. 'Great sense of community spirit though, in a guy that age.'
'Sure is,' Bruce agrees. He shares a glance with Sam, then knocks shoulders against Steve. 'And don't think we didn't clock you making plans to meet Carol for coffee, either.'
'That's real good news, man,' Sam says, clapping him on the other shoulder.
'Well,' Steve pauses, gathering his thoughts. 'I think we have some things in common, and she was easy to talk to. I don't want to give you the wrong impression—it's not a date. Carol's been with her partner for years and, in any case, I don't think we have that kind of connection. Maybe hanging out with someone who's successfully transitioned to civilian life will be good for me, though?'
'Hey, no such thing as too many friends, man,' Bruce says.
'Proud of you,' Sam adds, flashing a toothy smile. 'How did it feel to do something new, with new people? With your art again.'
Steve exhales.
'I think it was long overdue,' he says.
:::
'Can you believe?' Thor squeals, looking intensely satisfied with his work, as well he should. Thor is a super intelligent man and one of the purest souls Bucky has ever had the good fortune to meet—he's also a badass hairstylist and groomer. It's not like anyone was laboring under the misapprehension that Steve was anything less than gorgeous, underneath his grandad clothes and mountain man self-care choices. Still, the full force of Steve's glorious beauty that has now been revealed is, uh, it's a lot. Bucky is trying, like, really hard to keep his game face on, and to only look a normal amount of happy to have his suspicions confirmed that Steve is a total snack. Damn, he's the whole buffet.
Currently, he also looks like he's going to die of embarrassment, but Bucky can tell he's trying to tough it out. Thor's cut Steve's shaggy head of hair, leaving the top just enough length to style it casually back off his face and keeping it tight and neat at the back. His beard has been trimmed and groomed to within an inch of its life, now short enough to accentuate the strong line of Steve's jaw. It looks soft to the touch and this is the first time Bucky has ever been jealous of Thor's hands but they have touched that beard and even now they are touching that beard as he pampers Steve in front of the salon mirror.
'O Captain, my Captain!' Thor fans himself dramatically. 'Steve, you're giving me sexy bitch realness. You're giving me as-God-is-my-witness-I'll-never-be-hungry-again!' There's really no stopping him once he lets Scarlett loose. Thor's sincere joy at having turned Steve's hotness factor up to a brain-melting ten is utterly infectious. Bucky, who was only drafted into this reaction segment because, well, probably because Producer Pepper is quietly enjoying his Obvious and Embarrassing Captain-sized Crush, finds himself drawn into the madness. 'I'm shook. Bucky, are you shook?'
'Yeah,' Bucky nods, biting his lip and trying to pull his everlovin' shit together. 'Wow, great job. With the hair and. With. Y'know, the beard there.' Jesus Christ, was that even a sentence? He exhales a long breath and prays that Pepper's kind enough to cut that from the final edit.
'You really like it, Buck?' Steve's looking up at him anxiously, from under his eyelashes, and Bucky gets with the program enough to put his crush on the back burner and do his damn job. Steve is clearly feeling a bit overwhelmed and he's here to help him, not perv on the guy like a total creeper.
Bucky drags out his warmest, most heartfelt smile.
'Dude, you look amazing,' he compliments, and watches Steve's face light up at the affirmation. 'You've unleashed this handsome, confident man who isn't afraid to go after what he wants in life. The shorter beard shows your face off, rather than hiding it. I mean, how do you feel, pal? Cos' you look like a million bucks.'
Steve turns back to the mirror and smiles, while Bucky quietly tries not to expire from how handsome the man is.
'I feel more like the real me than I have done since, maybe, before the army,' he decides. He turns that earnest gaze on Thor. 'I can't thank you enough, Thor, for putting up with all my nonsense today and being so gentle with me.'
'You are so welcome, honey,' Thor says, getting teary eyed for about the eighteenth time this season because he genuinely and deeply cares about making other people happy. Then he drapes his humungous form over a nearby fainting couch, one arm slung over his eyes. 'She's gonna need a nap, now!' he declares.
Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky, who just shrugs, then flings himself on top of his friend and cast-mate, making Thor giggle and rolling them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
:::
Steve cries when he sees the chic, welcoming, stylishly masculine home that Tony's transformed his once-barren apartment into. Not red-faced snotty blubbing, like Bucky had done on the season premiere with the guy who'd reunited with his estranged son. Oh no. Steve's blue eyes just kind of well up with beautiful emotion, his whole face shines with gratitude, and then he cries a Single Perfect Man Tear like he's been taking pointers from Jensen Ackles himself.
The pièce de résistance is the spare room, where Steve had stored and failed to unpack his life before this week. All his moving boxes have been cleared out, and the oversized space does now serve as a functioning guest room. That's not its primary function, though. The area in front of the picture window is where Tony's worked his magic, using creative custom storage units and an instinctive understanding of light and space to make Steve a small, but perfect, art studio.
'Yes, well, none of that,' Tony says, gruff and obviously pleased, when Steve tries to thank him. 'I know, I'm a genius. What did you expect?'
'Are you going to use it?' Bruce asks, smiling at Steve. 'Get back to creating art again?'
Steve's running his hands over the easel, and all the art supplies Tony's had the cupboards and drawers stocked with. He looks overwhelmed, and still a little wibbly around the bottom lip. Bucky absolutely does not consider what it would be like to bite that lip. Jesus Christ, he doesn't, ok?
'Definitely,' Steve manages to say. 'This is unbelievable. It's perfect. I can't wait to spend some time drawing and painting in here. Tony, this really means such a lot to me.'
'Pleasure's all mine, Cap,' Tony says. He's always pleased when he's been able to apply his considerable skillset to making someone's home that bit more functional, comfortable and special. Of course, he's Tony Stark, so he can't just say that. 'I hope your new pad is the scene of many a debauched party, in my honor.'
Sam intervenes, champing at the bit to get on with the next segment, which is the fashion show. Steve's going to finally shed the baggy khakis and ill-fitting cardigan and show them a few of his new Sam-approved outfits.
'Painting and parties are gonna to have to wait, Steve. The only masterpiece we're about to showcase this afternoon is your shoulder-to-waist ratio.'
Predictably, Steve blushes, while Bucky idly wonders if this is going to be how he dies.
:::
It nearly is.
First, Sam (who clearly hates Bucky and is trying to torture him, slowly and sadistically, to an untimely death) has Steve do the living-room catwalk in casual wear. This translates to formfitting dark wash jeans, paired with brown boots and a mid-grey sweater that clings distractingly to every single one of Captain Roger's muscles. Bucky's mouth may actually be watering, and it's honestly the biggest relief when Sam gets Steve to put his new lightweight blue zipped jacket over the top.
'Work it, work it!' Tony catcalls, while Bruce wolfwhistles.
'YOU LOOK SHAMAZING!' Thor is actually speaking in capslock now, not that Bucky can blame him. Steve is actively contributing to global warming, he's so blisteringly hot. 'An officer and a GENTLEMAN!'
'Oh gosh,' the man in question says through a blush that disappears down into the neckline of that damn sweater. 'Thanks guys.' He looks at Sam somewhat imploringly, but Sam's too busy gloating over the incredibly attractive fruits of his labour to throw Steve a lifeline.
Bucky would help, he really would, if all his concentration wasn't currently required to prevent him popping a boner on goddamn camera. He forces a smile on his face and tries not to look like the giant pervert he is. He wants to eat Steve up. He wants to… No. Bucky is a professional. He's going to get through this without committing any acts of sexual predation.
'Looks great, Steve,' he says, trying for a grin that's more 'so great to see you healthy and happy' and less 'fantasising about biting your inner thighs'.
Those summer sea blue eyes flicker over to him, and Bucky can't help but smile at the quite pride Steve is radiating.
'How do you feel?' Sam is asking. 'Believe me yet about the closer fitting jeans?'
'Ok, buddy, you win,' Steve laughs, as unable to resist Sam's easygoing, genuine warmth as everyone always is. 'I feel pretty good in these.'
'This is really working for you,' Sam says. 'It's age appropriate, casual but not at all scruffy. That color boot can be worn with nearly all of your casual pants. The stone colors all work well together, you can mix and match. It's laid back, but it's chic. These are the clothes of a guy who takes care of himself, and that's an attractive thing.'
'It's…it feels comfy. I can definitely see myself wearing this.'
Bucky quietly sends a prayer up on behalf of whoever else is going to have to endure Steve in that sweater. What was Sam thinking? No man should be given this power.
Then, it gets worse.
'Time for outfit number two,' Sam says, dragging Steve away by the arm.
There's a break, in which Bucky downs two glasses of cold water and gives himself a stern, silent, talking to. Producer Pepper smiles at him, serene but somehow knowing, as he takes his place back on Steve's new cornergroup. She is so onto him. He flips her the bird and she grins even wider, whispering something to Happy, one of the team's longest standing camera guys.
Filming recommences.
'Brace yourselves, boys,' Sam says, reappearing in the living room with a shit-eating grin. 'You are about to be bowled over.'
He stands aside to let Steve through, showing off the next outfit and… Okay. Bucky isn't going to make it. Game over. Stick a fork in him and serve him up to Producer Pepper on a plate, he's done. Everyone else wins and Bucky loses.
Steve in a suit is, hands down, the most handsome man Bucky has ever seen. Forget sexy. He's what Bucky's ma used to call dreamy. He's mesmerizing.
'Wow,' someone says loudly, heartfelt and too raw. It takes Bucky a moment to realise it was him. He's kind of aware of the guys laughing at him, of Sam running commentary, but all he can focus on is how Steve is looking at him, an almost shocked, but pleased, expression on his face.
Sam 'The Devil' Wilson has dressed Steve in fitted cobalt blue suit with black lapels, over an open-collared crisp, white shirt.
'You could dress this up with a bowtie for really formal occasions,' Sam says, 'or keep it more relaxed for a party. Either way, it's a masculine, but playful, kind of vibe. Not too stuffy. Stylish, refined, versatile.'
'Is this what you're wearing for the party tomorrow?' Bruce asks.
'No,' Steve says, 'it'd be too formal for SHIELD. But. Uh, Sam said every guy needs a decent suit in his closet.'
'Yes, my man,' Sam says.
'Agreed,' Bruce says.
Everyone is smiling and this is always the happy, feel-good section of the show when everything starts coming together for the hero, but Bucky's never felt this conflicted.
Because it's not just how insanely good Steve looks in that suit. It's his goofy sense of humor and his awkward flirting in the kitchen. It's the thoughtfulness with which he considers Bruce's probing questions, before he answers them with honesty. It's the bravery he's shown in taking on every challenge they've thrown at him this week, setting his nerves aside to bring an open mind to all that they've wanted to share with him.
Bucky is totally gone for Steve, and he's suddenly terrified of what happens at the end of the party tomorrow, when the cameras stop rolling and the Fab Five's time here is done.
