Chapter Text
Together with their families, Simone Krishnamurthy & Kush Parikh, request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their wedding
Join us for a week of love in the Catskills!
Hotel Lilien
6629 Route 23A
Tannersville, NY 12485
Mel looked at the invitation in horror.
When she had received it, four months ago, she had RSVP’d yes on a whim, thinking she’d have a date to bring. She had time. Plenty of time.
Now, with four days left until she was expected to show up, the only thing she had was a headache and a text from Supriya auntie asking if she was “still planning to come,” so they could give her room to Simone’s friends if she wasn't.
Translation: ‘The friends need the room more than a first cousin of the bride.’
Mel stared at her phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard.
The panic bubbled up.
“In case you need some help, or you know, you want to share some secret hidden evidence.”
Bucky’s voice rang in her head, smug and stupidly low.
Few months ago, Congressman Barnes had given her his business card if she needed any help. She had called him then, when Valentina had gone off the rails.
Now, after late-night conversations over tea and shared eye rolls during team meetings, she wondered if that was only a one-time offer from Bucky.
Mel shook her head. No. Absolutely not. Sure, he was wonderful and made Mel’s cheeks heat up every time he found her in a room, but asking Bucky Barnes to be her fake boyfriend at a family wedding was insane. A former Congressman. An Avenger. A literal war hero.
And she wanted to just call him up and say, “Hey, be my boyfriend? Not for real, though!”
Think, Mel. Think of literally anyone else.
Bob. Bob seemed like a good choice. Sweet, considerate… anxious. Yes, anxiety and large crowds, great combination. Mel sighed. She was going to create the perfect recipe for a Catskills Void situation if she took Bob with her.
Yelena then. Yelena showing up with a knife to an Indian wedding. Yelena knifing her auntie if she expressed displeasure about Mel having a girlfriend. The thought made Mel chuckle despite her spiraling.
Ava? Mel closed her eyes. Her brain supplied a visual of Ava walking into a room full of her relatives and immediately phasing out of there like a ghost after muttering a quick goodbye.
Her mind stopped on Alexei for a second. Then she thought of him refusing to wear anything but the Red Guardian suit for all the events and shuddered.
Finally, she considered Walker. Handsome and conventional. And an unbearable disaster. Mel would bet her last pint of artisanal Madagascar vanilla ice cream that he would go two seconds before whining about Olivia and his son, and how the food sucks, and how he wants to leave already. She nearly dropped her phone at the thought of Walker challenging her uncles to a high jump contest.
Looking down at her phone, she realized she’d somehow opened her chat thread with Bucky amidst her warring thoughts.
Mel groaned, tossing her phone onto the couch like it had personally offended her.
Then snatched it back before plopping on the couch, defeated. She was going to text him. God help her, she was going to text Bucky.
Bucky. Not the man who made her fumble with just a glance for the past few months. Not the man who charmed her pants off at a gala with his awkward attempt at flirting to get her to switch sides. Not the man who spent his nights huddled with her, talking about nothing and yet, everything.
Yes. Definitely not him.
She opened Bucky’s contact.
Closed it.
Opened Bob’s.
Closed it.
Opened Bucky’s again.
The caret blinked at her like a challenge. Taunting her.
She typed: ‘Hi. Remember when you said I could call if I needed help?’
Then promptly deleted it.
She tried again: ‘Would you maybe want to—'
Deleted it again. Threw her phone away.
She buried her face in the cushion, the phone forgotten next to her.
She would go alone.
No big deal. Just a week of wedding chaos amongst her family. It’ll be fine.
That’s when her phone buzzed. She turned her head, opening an eye to look at the screen.
Supriya Auntie: ‘Need a response ASAP. Also, your RSVP said you’ll be bringing a plus one. That still happening or did he leave already? Only joking. Let me know soon.’
Mel stared at the text like it had reached out and slapped her.
She let out a breath and got up, opening Bucky’s contact and calling him.
The phone barely rang once before she heard Bucky’s voice on the other end.
“Hello?” Bucky’s voice came through the phone, an almost undetectable breathlessness to it.
“Are you okay?” Mel asked immediately, concern overriding her anxiety. “You almost sound out of breath.”
“Just finishing up a workout.” She heard a clang then. “What’s going on?”
“Do you remember when you said I could call you if I needed help and I did?” Mel asked hesitantly, continuing when she heard him hum in acknowledgment. “Well, does that offer still stand?”
“Are you alright?” She could hear him move around, hear the rustling of fabric. “Where are you?”
“I’m okay, I’m on my floor.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Bucky, you don’t need—”
“Already at the elevator, see you in 3.” He hung up and Mel remained frozen; her phone still clutched to her ear.
Three minutes. He’d said three minutes.
She shot up, her phone falling somewhere on the couch. In three minutes, Bucky Barnes, a literal superhero was going to be in front of her and she was going to ask him to be her fake wedding date?
This was bad.
She glanced at the corner from which Bucky could appear any minute, then at the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her. For a moment she contemplated jumping through the windows, ending her misery all at once. Then she sat down again, picking up a chocolate truffle from the tray on her coffee table.
She unwrapped it and shoved the whole thing in her mouth, just as she heard the soft ding of the elevator arriving at her floor.
Her eyes widened, her jaw working overtime to quickly dissolve the massive truffle she had just ingested. She could hear his footsteps getting closer as the chocolate refused to melt.
Somehow, the truffle was still very much intact.
His footsteps echoed down the hallway, getting closer with each second. Purposeful strides that still sounded soft from decades of stealth practice. Strides that she’d learned to recognize over the past few months.
Mel’s jaw worked frantically, trying to break down the truffle, but it was like trying to chew through concrete. Of course she’d picked the densest, caramel-filled one from the box.
The footsteps grew closer.
No, no, no. She was going to die. Right here, right now, choking on expensive chocolate while the man she maybe had feelings for found her body.
He was going to find her dressed in her comfiest cotton shorts and a stained white hoodie, with her hair in a loose braid.
No! She was so worried about the stupid truffle that she didn’t realize she was dressed like a mess.
He peeked from around the corner. “Mel?”
Mel just wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole.
She could picture exactly what she looked like to him: a chipmunk-cheeked disaster with a chocolate wrapper in her lap, and eyes wide with mortification.
Bucky walked further in wearing a blue T-shirt and black sweatpants. His hair was in a bun, with strands escaping from it, probably from his intense workout. But it was his eyes, the genuine concern in them that made her stop chewing altogether.
“Are you choking?”
Mel shook her head rapidly, cheeks still full, and gave him an unconvincing thumbs up like a drowning man clinging to a lifeboat.
Bucky blinked. Then he walked to stand right beside her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded violently, looking up at his towering form.
“…Because it really looks like you’re dying a little.”
Mel raised a finger, silently asking for a moment. She was still chewing. Trying to. The truffle, molten at the edges and practically fortified in the middle, was fighting back like it had a personal vendetta.
Bucky looked at her struggling for a moment. Sighing, he walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cabinet before filling it up with water, and made his way back to her.
As he set the glass on the coffee table before her, Mel could see his expression straddling the line between concern and amusement.
“I can Heimlich you, you know. I’m trained.”
Mel swallowed, finally. Her hand came up to pat her chest as her other hand reached for the glass of water. “Thanks for getting me water.”
Bucky kept his eyes trained on her for a beat. “You alright? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Just peachy.”
Bucky nodded and sat down beside her. Far enough to admire him without looking like she was ogling. Close enough to Heimlich her lest she choked on her own spit.
“What is it, Mel?”
She took a sip of water before inhaling deeply. “I need your help.”
“I am aware.” He leaned in, wiping the chocolate off the corner of her mouth with his flesh thumb. “Tell me.”
Bucky had touched her so many times before, and yet, her nerves mixed with his warm touch made her shiver.
He was here now though, and she had to bite the bullet. She had to ask him.
“I need a boyfriend,” she blurted out, the words tumbling over each other in her haste to get them out before she lost her nerve entirely.
Bucky’s thumb stilled against her skin. “A what?”
“A fake boyfriend.”
Bucky brought his hand to her shoulder. “Again, a what?”
“It’s my cousin’s wedding. In the Catskills. For a week. Well, six days.” The words came faster now, like a dam had burst. “I RSVP’d with a plus-one four months ago thinking I’d have figured something out, but I haven’t and now they’re asking if I’m even coming because they want to give my room away to someone else, and—”
“Mel,” Bucky interrupted her, his hand squeezing her shoulder. “Breathe.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, suddenly very aware of how close his face was.
“When’s the wedding?” he asked, like this was the most normal request in the world.
“In four days.” Her voice came out smaller than she intended. “I know it’s crazy. I know you probably have better things to do than pretend to be in love with me for a week while my family… is insufferable. But I don’t know who else I can take and—”
“I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“I said I’ll do it.” His lips quirked in that lopsided smile that always made her happy. “Now. Breathe.”
Mel exhaled and gave a small smile to Bucky. He gave her shoulder one last squeeze before settling more comfortably against her couch as she sat ramrod straight.
He nudged her arm with his elbow. “And relax.”
At his words, she slumped against the couch next to him.
“Why?” Mel turned her head to him.
Bucky’s brows furrowed. “Why what?”
“Why agree?”
“You looked like you really needed me to say yes.”
The words hung between them, unbelievable and unmistakably loud in the quiet of her apartment.
“Thank you, Bucky.”
“So, how are we getting there?” Bucky leaned forward, snagging a truffle from the table.
“I was thinking of a car rental. That way we can leave whenever we want.”
“Sounds good.” Bucky took a bite out of his unwrapped truffle and offered her the rest, the cherry filling tempting her.
Mel declined, glaring at the piece of the non-melting nonsense. Bucky raised his brows.
“Give that to me.” Mel snatched the half-eaten piece of chocolate from his hand, put it in her mouth, then licked her fingers.
“Don’t worry about the car. I’ll take care of it.”
“You will?” Mel couldn’t believe it. Frankly, she couldn’t believe any of this was true. Maybe she’d actually choked on that truffle and this was the afterlife. Pretty good, but not real.
“Of course. Anything to make it easier for you.” The way he said it, like it was something he just did without thinking, made Mel’s chest tighten with something dangerously close to affection.
“Okay.” Mel had to focus on the practical instead of the way he was looking at her. It was messy enough with the fake dating. “We should probably get our story straight. You know, in case they ask questions.”
“Sure.” Bucky plucked another truffle from the table, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. “But can we do that over food? I am very hungry.”
Mel nodded, tucking her legs beneath her and burrowing further into the couch.
“What are you in the mood for?” Bucky got up, collecting the truffle wrappers strewn across the table, and the lone wrapper abandoned on her thigh. He made his way to her kitchen and dumped the wrappers in the trash can before rummaging through her fridge. “Thai, sushi, Indian?”
“Can we do Thai? We had sushi two days ago,” Mel’s muffled voice had him looking up from the fridge with two bottles of beer in his hand.
“From that place on 47th?”
Mel hummed in agreement, watching as he twisted the caps off both bottles with his metal hand. The move made her stomach flutter slightly.
He walked back over, handing her a beer before sinking next to her on the couch. With the way she could smell the sweat on him mixed with his cologne, she knew he was sitting closer than before. She took a long swig of the beer. She was going to need it.
“So,” Bucky said, pulling out his phone. “Thai it is. The usual?”
“You know my order?” Mel asked, surprised.
Bucky paused, his thumb hovering over the screen. “Well, it will be the third time we’ve gotten Thai, and you’ve always ordered the same thing. The vegan Pad Thai, medium spice, extra vegetables, spring rolls and chive pancakes on the side.”
Mel’s jaw slackened. She watched him continue to tap on the phone, sipping on his beer, seemingly unaware of the storm he’d just unleashed within her. “You just memorized that like it was your phone number?”
“Uh huh,” Bucky agreed, like it was the most natural thing to remember someone’s entire order after just three times. “You want the pandan pudding?”
“I only ordered that once.”
“So, no?” He squinted at her.
Mel looked the other way, pouting. “I want it.”
Bucky’s lips quirked up in amusement as he added it to the order. “Thought so.”
“You’re annoying,” Mel muttered. Although the change in her breathing betrayed the bite she was going for.
“And yet, you’re taking me to the wedding as your fake boyfriend,” he pointed out, hitting the order button. “Food will be ready for pick-up in 30 minutes.”
“Pick-up? You didn’t get it delivered?”
“It’d take longer and if you forgot, I am very, very hungry.”
Mel rolled her eyes fondly and started to stand up. “Okay, then let me just change and we can—"
“Stay. I’m getting it.” Bucky lightly pulled her back by the hem of her hoodie. “Besides, I need to go back to my floor anyway. Just going to take a quick shower and change.” He downed the rest of his beer before getting up. “I’ll be back in about 40 minutes.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind—”
“Mel.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Relax. I’ve got this.”
She watched him leave, stunned at how easily he’d taken charge of everything. How did he do it?
Just before he turned the corner, he looked back.
“Don’t overthink while I’m gone, okay?”
Too late. She already was.
Then he was gone, leaving Mel alone with her thoughts and her phone. And a dread engulfing her instead of his scent.
She glanced down at Supriya auntie’s message waiting for her response. But this time, instead of the usual hurt, she felt something else. Anger, maybe. Or just… exhaustion with it all. And a little relief at having Bucky in her corner.
She replied before she could second-guess herself: ‘Still coming. Yes, I’m bringing my boyfriend. See you soon.’
Short. Direct. No apologies, no explanations. Just facts.
Now, she just had to try to not overthink until Bucky got back.
----
Mel heard the elevator chime thirty-seven minutes later. Fifteen steps later, she saw Bucky, hair open and damp from the shower, dressed in a red henley and jeans. And a small smile on his face accompanied the waft of spices.
Her head tilted in a trance. God, he is pretty.
“I come bearing gifts.” He held up the bags that smelled like heaven.
“My hero,” she said, dryly, grabbing one of the bags and turning around, hiding her smile.
“You’d think one would be grateful.” Bucky shook his head fondly, following her to the coffee table and helping her empty the bags. “They gave us a few extra spring rolls, and I told them to pack more of those rice crackers you love. Apparently, I am now their favorite customer.”
“What did you do, tip them a hundred dollars?” Mel looked up from where she was arranging the containers on the coffee table, watching Bucky make his way to the kitchen.
Bucky swiftly opened the refrigerator and shoved his head in there. “You don’t happen to have that sparkling water I like, do you?”
“James Buchanan Barnes. How much did you tip them?” she said, unimpressed. “And you know where that sparkling water is.”
“I may have… been generous,” Bucky said, still rifling through her fridge with suspicious determination.
“How generous?”
“The food was forty-two bucks,” he mumbled in the fridge.
“Bucky.”
“I tipped fifty.”
Mel stared at the back of his head. “Bucky! You tipped them more than the cost of the food?”
“They were really nice!” he protested, finally emerging from the fridge with two bottles of the lime sparkling water. “And the guy thanked me for my service.”
“You…” she trailed off, unable to stay mad at him after his sheepish yet genuine admission. “Yeah, I got nothing.”
Bucky grinned, sitting down next to her on the couch. He placed the bottles on the coffee table alongside the food.
“So,” Mel spoke up after a beat of silence, twirling her Pad Thai, “we should come up with a story.”
“Well,” he said, opening his container of yellow curry, “it’s not like we have to change much. We can still say we met at that Avengers gala few months ago. And we’re already comfortable around each other, so it should be fine.”
“What if they ask when we started dating? What about our first date?” She was spiraling again. “First kiss? Do you think they’ll ask us if we have sex? Oh, who am I kidding? Of course they will. They—”
“Mel.” Bucky’s metal hand found her knee, applying the slightest pressure to bring her back. “One thing at a time.”
“You're right.” She picked up the sparkling water and took an audible gulp. “One thing at a time.”
“Good.” He shoveled a spoonful of curry and rice into his mouth, and spoke between chews. “Well, after our first meeting, I thought you were very charming, and when you started working for the New Avengers and moved in here, I had no excuse but to ask you out.”
“You thought I was charming when we first met?” she broke apart a spring roll, handing him one half. “I called your business card ‘trash’ when you offered it to me.”
He accepted the spring roll. “You know, that really wounded my newly appointed Congressman ego.”
“Of course. I could hear the heartbreak in your voice before I saw your sad puppy dog face,” Mel said, picking at a piece of tofu, watching him dip his spring roll in curry before taking a bite out of it.
Bucky smiled with his mouth full. He chewed for a moment, then took a sip of his sparkling water, swallowing the food down with it. “See? Makes for a charming first meet story.”
“So, when did you actually ask me out then?” Mel asked, plucking one of the chive pancakes from the container and popping it in her mouth.
“Well, do you remember that team dinner about a month after we all moved in here? Everyone was ordering different takeout, just hanging out on the communal floor.”
“Ugh. You mean the night Alexei ordered enough Chinese food for twelve people and Walker complained about MSG the entire time?”
“That’s the one,” Bucky gestured around with his spoon. “So, we’ll say that I’d been wanting to talk to you for weeks, came over, got the conversation going. Was working up the courage to ask you out, and then…”
“You spilled your beer directly into my purse,” Mel finished, laughing. “That actually happened.”
“Right. The beer disaster was real,” Bucky grimaced. “But after spending ten minutes frantically apologizing and emptying your purse, and dabbing at everything with napkins, we’ll say that I asked you out.”
“No.” Mel pointed her chopsticks at him. “I asked you.”
Bucky paused mid-bite, a smile tugging at his lips. “You want to be the one who asked me out?”
Mel grabbed another one of the chive pancakes and took a bite out of it. She met his eyes. “No one’s going to believe you asked me out after the beer disaster, Barnes.”
“You’re right,” Bucky nodded in mock resignation. “Give me a bite of that.”
Mel held out her chopsticks with the remaining piece of the pancake, and he leaned forward to take it.
“So,” she continued, “after I asked you out because of your beer disaster, where did we go for our first date?”
“That little Italian place on 79th.” He broke off a piece of the rice cracker, crumbling it nonchalantly over his curry. “The one we went to after sneaking out of that charity ball.”
“Oh, we’re going to use that too?” Mel raised an eyebrow, reaching for another chive pancake. “You’re really committed to keeping our lies as close to the truth as possible, aren’t you?”
“It makes it easier to remember. Plus…” He shrugged. “It was a good meal. You got that saffron risotto, I had the tortellini. We shared that tiramisu.”
“Much better than anything at that ball. Much quieter,” Mel said, her voice softening. “Told me a lot about yourself that no museum or book ever could.”
Bucky’s spoon paused over his curry, something shifting in his expression. “You get me talking.”
Mel’s lips parted in wonder. Bucky Barnes had just admitted that he found it easier to talk around her, and she didn’t know what to do with that information.
“So,” she said, scooping up more Pad Thai and trying to ignore the flutter in her chest, “when was our first kiss?”
“About a week or so after that,” Bucky finished the last of his curry, setting the container aside. “Remember we went to the farmers market? The one where you bought me half the produce stand?”
“You mean when you convinced me to buy you half the produce stand,” Mel corrected, pushing the now-empty Pad Thai container toward the center of the table. “You kept saying ‘just one more peach’ and ‘these plums look perfect.’”
“I was appreciating quality fruit,” Bucky said with mock dignity. “And you were enabling me.”
“I was being sweet. There’s a difference.”
“You were being sweet,” he agreed, his voice dropping slightly. “Standing there in that pink and white sundress, arguing with the vendor about whether the plums were ripe enough, making sure I got exactly what I wanted…”
Mel felt her breath catch at the way he was looking at her. “And that’s when you’re saying you kissed me?”
“No. When we were walking back,” Bucky said softly. “With a bag of stone fruit between us, I just… I kissed you. Right there on the sidewalk.”
Mel let out a soft gasp.
“That’s…” she managed, gathering the empty containers into one of the bags. “That’s a really good story.”
“Simple, but romantic.”
“Right.” Mel blinked, trying to collect herself. She still couldn’t get over how naturally that memory flowed from him.
Bucky reached for the small container of pandan pudding, opened it, and grabbed the spare spoon from the table. He took the first bite, closing his eyes appreciatively.
“Hey!” Mel lunged to grab at the container, but Bucky was quicker, moving the dessert out of the way. “That was my pudding.”
“And it’s delicious.” Bucky handed her the spoon and held out the container as she sat back down with a frown. “Worth ordering again.”
Mel took the spoon from his hand and dug into the container, her other hand holding his metal arm steady at the wrist.
As soon as the creamy pudding hit her tongue, she moaned. “Okay, it’s really good,” she admitted, passing the spoon back to him.
“So, what should I pack for this thing?” He swallowed another spoonful of pudding. “I’m assuming it’s not a jeans and T-shirt kind of week.”
“No.” She scooped more pudding with the spoon left in the container. “You’ll need a couple of suits for the wedding and the sangeet, maybe a tux for the reception, and pack a couple of formal shirts and slacks for the other events. Also, don’t forget some casual clothes for the brunches and breakfasts. And pajamas. Definitely pajamas.”
“Well, I sleep in my boxers, so pajamas aren’t a priority.”
Mel almost choked again.
Bucky shrugged, like sleeping half-naked around her was perfectly normal, and offered her the rest of the pudding.
“Well, I want you to be comfortable,” she said, scraping up the last remaining pudding before taking the empty container from him and dumping it in the bag. “You’re already going to be in a strange place, so I’d rather you be relaxed in your clothes.”
Mel felt his eyes on her and looked up, meeting the tenderness she’d grown used to over the past few months.
“How about you come up to my floor and help me pack when you’re free?”
Mel agreed, surprised at how normal that felt.
“Great.” Bucky slumped against the couch again, his arm stretched along the back behind her. “We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”
Why is this so easy? Mel thought. Sitting there with him, sharing food, planning their fake relationship. None of it felt all that different to her. It seemed like he’d looked at her the same way for the past few months, with a softness that melted her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For all of this. I know it’s a lot to ask.”
“It’s not,” Bucky said simply. “Besides, I’m curious to meet the family that raised someone like you.”
Before Mel could ask what he meant by that, her phone chimed on the coffee table.
She picked up the phone and her stomach dropped.
Supriya Auntie: So, there is a boyfriend after all. Can’t wait to meet this one, Melissa. Hope he is real, and we don’t see you walk in alone again. Don’t do anything embarrassing.
The blood drained from her face as she read the message. She quickly set the phone face down on the table, hoping Bucky hadn’t seen.
Bucky had caught enough of the words over her shoulder, but more importantly, he’d seen the way her entire body had tensed.
Without a word, he reached across her for the TV remote. But instead of sitting back in his original spot, he settled closer to her, their thighs now touching, steady and warm.
His metal fingers drifted toward her shoulder, barely grazing it over the soft material of the hoodie. “You want to watch something?”
He felt some of the tension ease from her body. And in that moment, he knew.
He finally understood exactly why Mel had sounded so desperate when she called him.