after the end [stucky]

ten

It's no ballroom or grand hotel. The place they rented out is a simple bar that's just about big enough to accommodate every single guest. No spiralling chandeliers, no glimmering gold walls, no orchestra playing Beethoven or some other glorified classical musician.

Tonight, it's just the solid wooden dance floor, casual conversations and light drinks, no liquor of any kind, and music drifting from a humble speaker. It's perfection.

When I entered the bar, with Sam's hands covering my eyes, a tense silence hovered in the air in my blindness. Bucky was nowhere to be seen, or heard. We shuffled (or rather, Sam yanked me) from the chilly concrete outside to somewhere indoors, heated and silent.

"Sam, where the hell did you guys take me?" I asked. "Don't say you dragged me all the way to the other side of the city just to eat some shawarma or cheap takeaway."

"Shut up," Sam laughed. Then took his hands off my face at the exact moment the room lit up and everyone said, "Surprise!"

I almost winced at the bang of multiple party poppers. But surprisingly, I felt a laugh escape my mouth in surprise. My shoulders eased—my whole body relaxed–and it was the first time in a while that I truly felt at home.

Now, I make my thank-yous short but meaningful to my friends who came here today just to say goodbye. My family.

A smirking Sam who parades around the bar, crediting himself as he boasts "This whole thing was my idea, got it? People should straight-up just hire me as their party planners if we're being honest." Clint and Scott with their chaotic but beautiful families. Pepper and little Morgan who smiles shyly at me, at Uncle Steve. Carol, Valkyrie and a few other Asgardians. Peter who squeals at meeting Captain America again, then has to be escorted away by Happy as Rhodey laughs at the side. Stephen, Wanda, Quill and the Guardians. T'Challa and his family, plus guards from the Dora Milage.

I even spot Teresa who Pepper invited last minute. A quick nod and smile is all I give her as in less than twenty-four hours, we meet at the airport.

I toast every single one of them with a lift of my drink. Just a glass of beer, no more, no less. It's not like I can get more even if I tried. Everyone's watching me, and I know it's for the better because it's what we do; we look out for each other.

My apologies take a little longer. To Bruce and Thor who only embrace me at the same time, even if it feels like they're squeezing the air out of my lungs. I'm still grateful all the same.

But I have one last farewell before my departure. One last goodbye, saved for my last dance.

He looks so dashing it reminds of back in the war.

I can barely breathe at the sight of him. No wonder he didn't come in with me and Sam.

Every stride towards me takes me back to the 40's. Each graceful step closer narrows my shoulders, decreases my height, and completely ceases my lungs to work until we face each other in the middle of the dance floor. Until I'm the same boy back in Brooklyn who only cared about his best friend, and that we both survived.

My eyes sting but it feels good. Crying, letting the emotions flow free feels so good as I take in the sight of Bucky before me.

The world falls around us and we're the only ones in the room.

His dark hair is lightly styled after a quick trim just before we left the apartment. Not too slick, perhaps a bit messy, but infinitely cuter because damn, it's Bucky. In the dim lighting, the fabric of his suit—he even went to the extent of dressing up for me—almost shimmers like smoothened obsidian. Sharp-looking, fitted as if it was tailored especially for this evening. Exactly the sort of thing that a woman chooses for her to-be husband or the thing a lovesick girl matches her prom dress with to be night incarnate. But tonight, Bucky is my man and I'm his.