Chapter 4: Espy-onage
Bucky dashed to practice on Friday, running late because he'd overslept and Josiah just fucking let him. He expected to be chastised by Lamberg or teased by his teammates. Instead, the entire team accosted him the instant he jogged onto the field.
"Did you hear?"
"Have you seen it yet?"
"You must be so excited!"
Bucky's head spun. He almost got hit by Josiah trying to hug him without putting down his crutches. "What are you talking about? What happened?" he asked.
"Have you been on Instagram yet today?" Josiah asked. "Or…anywhere on the internet?"
"No. I woke up and came here. What's going on?"
"You got nominated for an Espy!" the entire team cheered at once.
"Wait, seriously?"
"Yep," Jack said. "Best male athlete with a disability. You're up against a Triathlete with Down syndrome, a wheelchair basketball player, and two Paralympic track and fielders."
This was news to him. The buzz about him that had circulated right after the Paralympics had died down months ago. "Why—why me?" Every single player on this team was just as deserving.
"Because you're awesome," Josiah informed him. "The winner is decided by public voting, and I know I speak for everybody here when I say you've already got our votes."
"Wow. I don't even know what to think about this. Was I supposed to get a letter or something?"
He didn't intend the remark to be funny, but everybody cracked up. For Bucky, just playing on the team was plenty honor enough. Then they'd gone and won the gold medal. And now he'd been nominated for an award? Undeserving barely began to describe how he felt about it. Of all the incredible Para-athletes in the world, how the hell did they end up choosing him?
~0~
When Bucky went home for the weekend, he immediately looked at the website. Sure enough, there was his name listed among the nominees, right beneath a picture of him from the Paralympics. He got distracted reading the bios and watching videos of all four of his fellow nominees, so much so that he barely registered the sound of the front door opening. He assumed it was his parents returning early from their errands, but then Steve snuck up behind him and quite literally tackled him in a hug.
"Give a guy some warning before you practically suffocate him," he protested.
"Sorry. I'm just so excited for you! I'll bet you never thought it could get even better than gold."
"I didn't. I think I'm still in shock over this whole thing."
"Why are you shocked? You deserve it."
"I guess so…I just…it's hard to believe that I made it, you know? I feel like just last week I was running laps in the opposite direction because Coach Phillips didn't want me to exhaust myself trying to keep up with everyone else."
"I think you're more than keeping up with everyone else now," Steve said with a grin.
"No kidding. Did you vote yet?"
"Yeah, I voted for the blind runner."
Bucky punched him for daring to make such an insolent comment.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Of course I voted for you. And I got my parents to vote for you too. Pretty sure my mom's going to make everybody at work vote too."
"I expect nothing less from my boyfriend's mom," Bucky said pointedly.
"You really abuse that word, you know."
"No. No word that refers to you could ever be overused."
"You're cute. Are you going to mention me in your acceptance speech when you win this thing?"
"Of course. If I win. But what to you want me to say? Isn't it kind of a big deal to announce you have a boyfriend on live television?"
"If you were previously closeted, then probably yes."
"I'm not closeted."
"Well then I don't think it's any different than anybody else thanking their significant other. But if it makes you uncomfortable you don't have to specify that I'm your boyfriend."
"What about partner?"
"I guess that works. For me, when I hear it, it implies a bit more commitment than the term boyfriend, but I think a lot of people are using it as a synonym for significant other nowadays."
"What, you think we aren't committed enough to call each other partners?"
"I didn't say that."
"Yes you did. And I disagree. We literally have matching tattoos, remember? And that whole 'til the end of the line thing? It doesn't get much more committed than that."
Steve's ears turned red. He said, while staring at Bucky's feet, "Yes it does."
All the blood drained from Bucky's face as he realized what Steve was insinuating. "I swear to God if you drop to one knee right now, I will actually punch you in the face."
He chuckled and actually managed to make eye contact for half a second. "I'm not, I promise. If I was going to do a grand proposal, I wouldn't be doing it here. This is more of an…inquiry, because I have no idea how proposing is supposed to work in a non-heteronormative relationship. I've been thinking about the future…which in itself is baffling because that's not something I was able to do for a long time, but every time I do I get stuck on the same thing. The only part of the future that I really care about is making sure we share as much of it as possible."
"Yes," Bucky cut him off.
"Yes to what?"
"I'll marry you."
"But this isn't a proposal."
"Then what the hell were you inquiring about?"
He ran a hand shyly over the back of his neck. "No, you got it right. I guess I just didn't think you'd be so immediately enthusiastic."
"Immediately enthusiastic? Steve, this is more exciting than the Espy! What, were you worried I'd say no or something?"
"Not exactly. I just worried that maybe you'd want a more formal transition from boyfriend to betrothed."
"Steve, I don't give a shit about the transition. As far as I'm concerned, we've basically been engaged since the matching tattoos. I mean, that shoulda been a dead giveaway."
"Yeah, you're right."
"So, when do you want to do it?"
"I dunno, I was thinking after graduation? I don't want to wait too long, you know, in case…"
"You're absolutely right. We more than anybody know that life's too short to put off the important things."
"That's exactly what I was thinking."
"So…this is obviously going to be a longer conversation at some point, more like a series of conversations over the course of months, but do you just want to leave it at that for now? Being engaged?"
"Yeah. I really like the sound of that." Steve took a step closer.
"Oh do you now?" Bucky raised his eyebrows. Before completely closing the distance between them, Bucky quickly dashed back to the door and locked it so they'd have some warning when his parents returned.
~0~
On his way out of Bucky's apartment that night, Steve had to forcibly prevent himself from blurting out the news when he ran into Mr. and Mrs. Barnes on their way in. "Hello Steve," Winnifred said amiably. "Did you see the news about the Espy?"
"Yeah. That's why I stopped by, to congratulate him in person." Steve willed his expression to remain neutral. They agreed not to speak of the engagement until the awards, because Bucky wanted to be a dramatic son-of-a-bitch and announce it during his acceptance speech if he won. If one of the other nominees won, they'd figure out some other grand way to share the news.
"I'm sure he was very glad to see you."
Steve smiled. "Yeah, I feel the same." The summer weeks were long; Bucky training Monday through Friday at a facility upstate and coming back to Brooklyn only on the weekends. Yes, it was a better arrangement than him having to go even farther, far enough that he was unable to come home so often, but Steve still missed him all week long. But even that was a reprieve from him being away at college for entire semesters at a time. Steve couldn't go down to UVA all that often, not with his own schoolwork to do. This past semester was particularly busy because he'd started interning for a child life specialist at Gravesen, a requirement for his own eventual certification. He felt rather out of place in his home hospital in a professional capacity instead of as a patient, but also immensely fulfilled. Now that school let out, he worked full days there instead of just afternoons. Despite missing an entire fall after his transplant, he was back on track to finish his degree on time after some summer classes and overloaded semesters.
The website was apparently ahead of the game, because Bucky didn't get his formal invitation to the awards until two days later. "I get to bring a plus-one," he explained. "Do you want to come with me?"
Steve wanted to say yes without hesitation, but he knew the theater was bound to be immensely crowded, a veritable breeding ground for bacteria and viruses. But it was worth the risk to be there for one of the greatest moments of Bucky's life. He agreed to come, but knew he'd probably spend the majority of the ceremony with a face mask on. Even a month out from the awards, Bucky was a nervous wreck. The next weekend he came home, he took Steve shopping for new suits for the two of them.
"Can't we just wear the ones we wore to prom?" Steve asked. He hated shopping, especially for clothes. He lived his life rotating through the same button-downs and plain T-shirts. And he rarely saw Bucky in anything but soccer gear or jeans and a Henley.
"Steve, sweetheart," Bucky replied with mock condescension. "I don't know if you've looked in the mirror at all in the last two years, but a suit that fit you in high school is certainly not going to fit you now. You'd pop every seam just trying to put the jacket on."
"Oh yeah." Sometimes he forgot how much his body had changed since transplant. Two inches taller and over fifty pounds heavier.
"While we're at it, we should get you some new everyday shirts. Some of yours are so tight I'm surprised you can even breathe in them."
"I've breathed through worse than a tight shirt," Steve said flippantly. He pointedly didn't mention that wearing tighter shirts had become a source of pride. Before transplant, he'd never been able to that because both his port and g-tube would've shown through. Well, that, and they didn't even make men's shirts small enough to be tight on him back then.
"I know you have, but you shouldn't have to." He glanced back and must've noticed the look of reluctance on Steve's face. "Unless you want to. You'll never catch me complaining about you wearing them." He winked and then turned back to the rack in front of them. Steve rolled his eyes.
"Can we at least use the same ties from prom? I like the purple and gold."
"Yeah, definitely."
It only took about half an hour to find ones they liked. Bucky wanted his left sleeve professionally tailored instead of just doing it himself. Naturally, he called Tony to ask if he knew of a good one.
"Why do you assume I know a good tailor?" he asked. Bucky let Steve lean in close enough to hear Tony's side of the conversation too.
"Because you're rich, duh," was Bucky's answer. "Aren't rich people, like…ninety five percent of a tailor's client base?"
"And amputees are the other five," Tony replied. Steve choked back a snicker.
"So do you know a tailor?"
"Not personally. But I'll ask my parents. They definitely will."
"Thanks."
"By the way, congratulations, hotshot."
"That is literally the least apropos nickname you could pick. I'm a goalie; I block hot shots."
"Fine, then. Congrats, hotshot-be-gone."
This time, Steve failed to contain his laughter. "You should get that on a tee shirt," he said. Bucky rolled his eyes at him.
"I'll send you the tailor info as soon as I can, okay?"
"Thanks, Tony."
Steve extended his left hand for Bucky to hold as they walked home. "Hotshot-be-gone. I don't hate it."
"If you say that one more time, I am un-inviting you to the Espys."
Steve, wisely, kept his mouth shut.
~0~
As if being nominated for an award wasn't overwhelming enough, Bucky was soon inundated with information about the ceremony. He found himself booking plane ticket to LA, a hotel room for him and Steve while they were there, and deciphering the seating chart for Microsoft Theater. Josiah probably got their entire Instagram following to vote for him, but there was no way to see the vote counts. Results were kept confidential until the announcement of the winner the night of. To make matters even crazier, he learned who they'd chosen to present for Best Male Athlete with a Disability: ESPY award nominee Ulysses Klaue. He'd been nominated for the same award a decade ago, although lost to a mono-skier. Bucky imagined winning and literally fainting up the ramp to the stage at the sight of his idol.
Writing his acceptance speech proved much more difficult than any writing task he'd ever undertaken. The only line he knew for certain he wanted to keep was the one about Steve. But he didn't know where to draw the line for who he needed to thank or not. He lost count of how many versions he created, but it took at least two weeks of drafting every day before he had one he was satisfied with. And then he had to memorize the damned thing.
Steve, somehow, was just as nervous, if not more, than Bucky. At least Bucky had some experience in front of the public, whether standing on the Paralympic podium or answering interview questions in the wake of standing on said podium, albeit with his teammates by his side. Steve, on the other hand, had been in front of a camera exactly once, for his Make-a-Wish at Gravesen, and that was surrounded mostly by people he knew closely. He was terrified that the cameras sweeping the audience would catch him in an awkward moment and the screenshots would go viral.
"Steve, you won't have any awkward moments," Bucky assured him. "You'll just be clapping on and off. You don't have uncontrollable coughing fits anymore."
"You're right, I guess. This is just so exciting I want it to be perfect for you. What if I mess up your mojo?"
"Steve, you've never done anything destructive to my mojo. It's going to be fine. You're going to be fine."
"Okay."
And he was. When it came down to it, Steve exuded almost as much charisma as Bucky. It also helped that his new suit was quite flattering, at least in Bucky's opinion. Before the ceremony began, they had to endure the red carpet. It wasn't as glamorous as the one for the Oscars, but he was still expected to pose for pictures both with and without Steve. Since they were outside, he felt comfortable enough to leave his mask in his pocket. The entire experience boggled Bucky's mind. He'd grown used to having his team by his side for big moments like this, but now all the glory sat on his shoulder.
He managed to find his fellow nominees within the massive throng of people and congratulated them. When they headed inside to find their seats, Klaue approached him and gave him the most painfully strong high five of his life. "Look at you, Barnes. You clearly didn't need me to make it big time, not with all that talent."
"I think your tips definitely helped me get there," he contradicted.
"Good luck tonight."
"Thank you."
Steve, now masked, took his arm and together they figured out where they were sitting, between two of his fellow nominees and their plus-ones. The host, some comedian Bucky had heard of but didn't know very well, began with a monologue that earned her several belly laughs from the audience. They quickly entered the monotony of introducing the presenter, the presenter speaking, short clips of each athlete, announcing the winner, and the winner giving their brief thank-you speech. Being one of the "less hot" awards, Bucky knew his category was closer to the beginning of the show. When they announced Klaue as the next presenter, he saw Steve shift to the edge of his seat. Klaue read off the nominees as a brief highlight reel played on the screens for each of them. Self-consciousness welled up inside him as his own name was read and his own face appeared on the screen. They'd chosen three of his greatest saves: a leap to the top left corner of the net, one in which he'd flipped around as Klaue taught him, and one where he used his left foot to save a ball in the bottom corner of the net. His fellow nominees' feats were equally as impressive, which is why Bucky almost didn't register when Klaue read his name.
Steve practically shoved him out of his seat and towards the stage. Bucky stumbled blindly up the ramp, thinking he probably looked drunk. He accepted the award, surprised at its heft, and stood in front of the podium. Faces he'd seen on TV countless times started back at him from the crowd. Bucky took a deep breath and conjured his memorized acceptance speech from the depths of his mind.
"First, I want to thank the rest of this incredible team, including my Amputeam partner in crime, Josiah Bradley. They're the ones that do all the legwork while I'm jumping around in the net." He flashed a smile as the joke got exactly the laugh he'd wanted from the crowd. "And, of course my coaches, especially Mr. Chester Phillips of Hudson Creek High School, who worked overtime to ensure I trained just as hard as everybody else, but at my own pace. Finally, I offer my sincerest thanks to the person who's been there supporting me since before I ever even touched a soccer ball: my fiancé, Steve. You're my biggest fan, and I am yours. Thank you!"
He held the statue aloft for a brief moment as the applause and cheering skyrocketed to deafening. Of all the ways to publicly announce an engagement, this had to be somewhere near the top of that list. As Bucky made his way back to his seat, he passed countless famous faces, rather than the backs of famous heads. They smiled at him and offered him thumbs-up and congratulations. Bucky did his best not to faint in a starstruck heap in the middle of the aisle.
"You didn't tell me about the 'biggest fan' line," Steve muttered in his ear when he sat back down.
"I wanted to surprise you."
"It was both surprising and endearing."
"I'm glad you liked it." Bucky noticed Steve eyeing the award. "You want to hold it, don't you?"
"I want to know how heavy it is."
Bucky passed it over. Steve ended up holding the statue for the entire rest of the evening so Bucky could have his hand free.
When they finally collapsed back in their hotel room, Bucky turned his phone off Do Not Disturb to find a text message from almost every single person he knew. All of them said something like, "I saw you on TV!" or something like, "What the fuck do you mean, your fiancé Steve?" He did his best to reply to them, but ended up leaving at least half for tomorrow. Steve placed the Espy on the table beside the bed, "So you can wake up to it," he insisted. "And it won't fit in the safe."
To save time, they showered together and crawled into bed exhausted yet giddy from the excitement of the past four hours. "I've done it, Steve," Bucky proclaimed. "I've reached the peak."
"Nonsense. You've still gotta marry me, jerk."
"Oh yeah. That day's gonna top this one for sure."
I know we're moving fast, but you all already know that this relationship ends up a marriage. Plus, these two know more than anyone else that there's no time to waste.
