Be the First Who Ever Did by oopsiedaisiesbaby, @oopsiedaisiesbaby [Fic, 2k, Gale "Buck" Cleven/John "Bucky" Egan] The wolf whistles were to be expected. The back slaps and cajoling paired with playfully lewd comments just emboldened him further. Lesser men would have melted into puddles of shame and died. Not John Clarence “Bucky” Egan though.
There was nothing embarrassing about walking into a pub full of locals and his fellow soldiers in a women’s blouse and skirt. He’d lost a bet. Fair and square.
aka the one where Bucky loses a bet, has to wear a skirt and do a full body wax, and Buck goes a little feral over it
@middlingmay rec: A must read for those who love reading about John and Gale playing with gender. I love this fic because it's fun and combines John being utterly shameless and Gale for once being unable to keep that perfect control over himself. And of course the Buckies hopelessly gone for each other!
Hello! For the WIP game, I'd love to know more about Blue skies twin sister??
Hi! ♥️
Basically I already have a one shot posted on AO3 titled Nothing but blue skies from now on, which is a sort of collection of disjointed moments of daily life for the Bucks after the war — they move to a farmhouse in Illinois, they get a cat, they help each other through their respective PTSD and trauma, they even "get married" at one point.
Since I had so many more moments planned that I ended up not putting in the one shot because it was already so freaking long (it's like 20k lmao) I've decided I'm going to try to give them some kind of narrative structure to build another one shot that would be Blue skies' thematically twin sister! My own folklore/evermore 😅
For now it's just a bunch of random moments, but sooner or later I'll put them all together 🥰
beneath the sun dogs by magneticrats, @magneticghouls [Fic, 10.5k, Gale "Buck" Cleven/John "Bucky" Egan] Switching on the radio out of habit, Gale already knows his options. The static AM radio talk show, or the grainy country station on FM that’s playability really depended on what part of town you were in. To his surprise, both stations come in clear, flipping through the stations he finds a new one playing some sort of classic rock.
“Guess things do change here,” Gale says to himself, the empty space heavy around him.
Always changing everywhere, another part of him supplies.
@middlingmay rec: Such comforting holiday vibes from this one. It's in progress and I am so looking forward to seeing how it progresses, but already it's a lovely mix of nostalgia, painful homecomings, found family and of course, hopefully a winter romance. Loved this fic from the first read.
Stolen Hearts by EternallyTired17, @eternallytired17 [Fic, 11k, Gale "Buck" Cleven/John "Bucky" Egan] New York City, 1998.
This new guy’s been showing up to the bar where Gale works who insists on calling him Buck despite knowing his name. Gale supposes he should be grateful for the distraction of the patron’s crooked smile and obviously fake New York accent, especially considering all the strange happenings going on lately. He keeps missing his mom's calls, a moustachioed cop keeps tailing him around town, and a week ago, two Brits beat him up for no reason outside his apartment. To make matters worse, he’s been tasked with taking care of his neighbour’s destructive husky named Meatball for God knows how long.
Surely this handsome stranger is the least of his worries... right?
@middlingmay rec: Clegan Caught Stealing AU! Another great work in progress that I'm excited to keep up with, and I'm loving how the author is weaving the mota world through this AU. Excited to see where it goes!
Summary/ author's note: Mama Egan gives Gale a gift. He sets it on fire. (Drabble 5/7)
Christmas Eve, Gale had observed, was more ritualistic than Christmas Day itself.
First, the Egan Clan all had to start the day with Uncle Eddie's pancakes, which he had to make to the tune of Last Christmas. Over. And over. It was mandatory to go to Henderson's Toy Shop in town and browse the shelves even though there were no more presents to buy.
And they all, every single one of them, had to wear matching sweaters the whole day.
Even Gale.
Mama Egan had presented it to him proudly while he was still in his jammies. And by God it was itchy. Gale wasn't a fan of wool, even when it was soft, and he had to resist the maddening urge to squirm and scratch all day.
Mercifully the day started to wind down fairly early since everyone had been go-go-go all day. It was 7.30pm, and there was one more ritual left on the roster.
Songs by the Christmas tree.
Gale hated singing. John loved it. But to keep peace, he quietly hummed along and mouthed the words when Mama Egan looked too closely.
He was so focused on getting through this one last thing, he didn't notice where he put his arm until Ellie screamed.
"Buck's on fire!"
It took a second of watching the flame from the tealight candle creep up his arm before he and everyone tried to jump into action. Ellie blew on it. Uncle Eddy fanned it. John slapped at it until Gale yanked his arm away and turned to run into the kitchen and get it under water, when Mama Egan appeared behind him with a wet towel and smothered the flame.
She looked at the burnt patch on the sweater, disappointed. "Well. I don't have enough to make another one."
"Ma!"
John tried to usher Gale from the room to help him clean up but Gale shrugged him off. It just made him feel worse.
He took himself off to the bathroom, shrugged off the sweater and made sure it hadn't burned him underneath.
He didn't know what he was doing here. Clearly he and John came from very different lives. John's was fully of joy and laughter and family and traditions. Gale's was full of solitude and awkwardness and an inability to fit in. Ever. Until John.
Gale didn't fit here. And it was time for him to go before he ruined anything else. That's what you did for people you loved.
He quietly slipped upstairs and was grateful they'd packed their own bags for the trip. He collected all his belongings except the present he'd brought for John. That he placed on the desk along with a note with all of two words.
At the bottom of the stairs, he heard the singing had started up again, John's own voice chief amongst them.
Good. He wouldn't be missed. He wouldn't ruin any more of Bucky's Christmas.
Summary/ author's note: John gets handsy, Gale has zero willpower to resist, and together they wreck a nice gesture from Mama Egan. (Drabble 4/7)
The next day Gale could mostly breathe through his nose and John's looks and his hands started to linger.
Neither of them were particularly shy about sex and this had been the longest they'd gone without since they'd started dating.
They were in the garage. John had gently closed the door behind them as they carried out their orders to fetch more drinks for Mama Egan. Gale leaned down to open a cooler and John was grabbing him and pulling him back.
"Jesus—John!" Gale swept his hands off him and sent a wild look around the room, searching for witnesses.
John blushed and muttered a hasty, "Sorry," but reached out from him again.
"I just miss you. C'mere."
Gale went slowly, but when John tilted his head for a kiss he could never really say no.
It was a spark to embers. Gale lit up, his whole body thrumming with relief. It wasn't even John who kicked it up a gear but Gale, who desperately needed to exorcise his anxieties and worries this trip had started to pull out of him.
This he knew. This was where he and John were good: loving each other through touch and sighs.
John shoved Gale against a table, put his hands under Gale's thighs and lifted. Gale spread them immediately, letting John slide home and kiss him deeper. Gale's hands scrabbled for purchase, reaching until they touched something smooth and—
Crash!
A bottle smashed against the floor.
They froze, and Mama Egan yelled from through the door. They sprang apart just as she came in and her eyes zeroed on the shards of brown glass and the liquid seeping across the floor.
"My homemade ginger beer!"
John flinched. It was Gale's favourite drink and he was starting to put those two awful puzzle pieces together.
"Who broke it?!"
John jumped in immediately. "It was me, ma. I'm sorry! I wasn't looking what I was doing."
But Gale still leaned heavily against the table, and she stared at him through narrowed eyes like she could never believe—she knew her John didn't do this.
She gave a sharp jerk of her head and they trailed hangdog past her. But Gale didn't miss the way her brow furrowed even deeper when he caught her eye.
Summary/ author's note: After his skiing mishap Gale falls ill and gets a little TLC from Bucky. (Drabble 3/7)
Gale shivered under the covers. He tried to focus his foggy brain by counting exactly how many different types of planes were printed on the sheets.
B-17. P-51. JU-27—no, 77. No—
His head was fuzzy, his nose was stuffed and dripping, and his throat was lined with what felt like tiny slivers of glass. All because his immune system couldn't handle a little swan dive into some snow.
One more pathetic embarrassment to add to this whole shit show of meeting John's family.
Clinking and shuffling heralded John's arrival. He pushed the door to his childhood bedroom open ass first and presented Gale with a bowl of thin soup, a glass of OJ, and two white pills.
"John," Gale said, endlessly fond. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be picking out a tree with your family."
John rolled his eyes, set the tray aside and sat on the bed with a flump. "Nowhere else I'd rather be, Buck."
Gale's insides squirmed with guilt. It had become glaringly clear there was nothing more important to John than his family. He didn't get to see them much and now Gale was in the way of the little time he did get.
But as John cosied up and coaxed Gale to eat his soup and drink his juice and take his pills. As he told him silly stories to make him laugh and put Gale's favourite (non-Christmas) movie on, Gale couldn't bring himself to wish John had gone. Selfishly, he wished their whole winter holiday could be like this.
In John's embrace, to thoughts of what they would be doing if they never came here, Gale fell asleep.
Summary/ author's note: For the first time in his life John is miserable at Christmas time, until he hears his favourite Christmas song. (Drabble 7/7)
John had been…desolate.
Christmas had never failed to cheer him up no matter what life threw at him. But this year?
This year he wished he'd just stayed at home. Least then he'd still have Buck.
He knew Buck hated Christmas. He'd let slip enough details to John for him to guess why. And like an idiot he thought a happy Christmas with a loving family would be just the ticket to cure his Christmas-aversion.
Because John was a selfish, short-sighted idiot.
He'd thrown his boyfriend right in the middle of everything he hated. Everything he didn't have as a kid and what? Expected him to be happy about it? Grateful?
John was glad Gale had the presence of mind to leave a note instead of ripping him a new one in front of everybody.
I'm sorry.
If Gale ever gave him the chance after today, John was going to be saying a whole lot more than that.
It was late. His parents and his sisters had long given up trying to comfort him. He hadn't been able to look at his ma and the regret he saw on her face for being less than welcoming to Gale. She got too overprotective sometimes.
He fiddled with the gift Gale had left on the desk, until finally biting the bullet and carefully peeling it open.
The bright yellow and postbox-red of Guys and Dolls peeked out at him. When he slipped open the cover, John gasped and his eyes welled up.
1931. 1st Edition.
People tended to gift John sports things, or booze, or socks when those two had been done to death. But Gale? Gale knew him inside and out. He knew he loved books and plays and cinema and art. And he knew exactly what his favourite book was.
The tears fell and John clutched the book to his chest, wishing it was Gale.
"I don't want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need."
John snuffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree."
Carollers. There was a troupe of carollers outside his house somewhere singing Mariah Carey at—he checked his watch—eleven pm.
"I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know."
He stuffed his feet into his slippers, carefully setting the book down and quietly padded down the stairs so as not to wake everyone.
He yanked open the door.
Before him were four beaming carollers dressed head to toe in their traditional garb. But in the middle? Red-nosed and rosy-cheeked and glassy-eyed from the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes and clung to his lashes? Was Gale.
Singing.
Alone, without the rest of his accompaniment, Gale finished the song in that gorgeous voice John loved so much.
"Make my wish come true. Baby, all I want for Christmas is you."
The cold seeped into John's slippers but he paid it no mind as he strode right up to Gale.
"John, I'm so—"
John hauled him into a kiss, messy because he started crying again, and he was fairly sure Gale was too, but like hell he was going to let that idiot apologise. Not when John was equally to blame.
"I forgive you," he murmured against the warm press of Gale's lips. "Do you forgive me?"
Gale laughed wetly and nodded. "I love you," he whispered and John's heart soared. "Do you love me?"
"I fuckin' love you."
Gale picked him up and spun him around in the sweetest kiss. They didn't hear Ellie giggling from her window, or Mr Egan trying to pretend he wasn't crying too, or Mama Egan furiously speculating where she was going to get more material, because "Gale needs a sweater; he's part of this family!"
