Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bucky had always loved being indulgent, whether it was a cuban cigar when on leave during the war, buying the ‘fancy’ hair gel before heading out to the dance hall, or obtaining a new knife - long, sharp and ruthless, he'd always preferred the finer things. For more years than he could remember and for many varying reasons, he’d been unable to make choices for himself, so when he had the chance, he savoured every last second - especially if it was on Tony Stark's dime. 

The Avengers kitchen came with a chef most days, and Bucky had left the comfort of his own kitchen in the hopes of finding something to tickle his taste buds that wasn’t Steve’s bran or oatmeal. He really needed to take over the shopping, his bowel couldn’t get more regular. Today though, there was no chef in sight and Bucky felt a little relieved, he wasn’t in a talkative mood, not that anyone would accuse him of being a ‘chatty Kathy’, but today he really didn’t want to make small talk.

The modern steel and white kitchen glistened in the early dawn light which filtered through the plate glass windows high above the city, and Bucky’s stomach thrilled knowing he could splurge and have anything his heart desired. Which is how he ended up eating the biggest bowl of Lucky Charms he could get away with without being ridiculous (it was a little ridiculous).

Natasha appeared moments after he’d added the milk, quirking a brow in amusement as he protectively held the dish away from her. Sugar was his sanctuary.

"Don't be disguising Barnes, I'm not after them, no matter what the little grotesque leprechaun says in the advert."

"I don't trust you Romanoff," he replied pointing a spoon at her, deliberately dribbling milk onto his chin as he spoke. 

"That's gross, you know.” She paused, eyes flicking towards his breakfast before scoffing, “jesus, James - are you eating out of a punch bowl? You're going to get diabetes in about an hour."

Bucky grinned widely, more milk pouring into the light scruff on his face. It felt as horrible as it looked, he wondered on his life choices sometimes.

"You know what? I'm out. I have better things to do with my time." She said with a withering look, before violently swiping jam on her toast.

"Liar." Bucky gurgled after her as she disappeared around the corner, flipping him the bird with a smile as she went.

He waited a moment before wiping his face off.

Bucky wasn't at all upset she’d abandoned him to breakfast by himself, not at all - he craved solitude on the regular, hence the milk display. He had to admit Natasha (out of all the Avengers) was generally excellent company, she didn't push him to speak or be someone he wasn’t and in return treated him like he was an annoying sibling. But he needed some space as the thought of having to converse at length about menial things didn't really appeal, today especially. 

He’d had one of his dreams… nightmares the night before. 

Waiting for the screams in his mind to die down in the cold light of day was never conducive to a great mood.

Being part of the Avengers helped with the darkness of his night terrors, the knowledge he was making amends slowly, helping people, saving lives. For years now he'd fought beside them earning his keep, though he'd been told countless times he didn't need to earn anything - he was one of them. Period.

Taking a deep breath he exhaled slowly, the dream still a ghost in his peripheral. He couldn't remember specifics but the smell of blood and ash lingered in his memory. Shoveling in another mouthful of marshmallow and oat goodness, he chewed slowly, enjoying the flavour, the sweetness and trying to forget. He still struggled on a regular basis with his past life and the atrocities he'd had a hand in, his therapist through countless hours and years of patience had managed to help him see that not everything he'd done was horrific, and he had to hold on to what little good he remembered. 

Stevie was a huge part of that. 

His memories prior to Azzano not complete, but rounded out enough to help him realise he wasn't worthless, he still had a life to lead, a better one. One with Steve by his side, even if it was only in the capacity of a best friend. Bucky pushed down the familiar desire for more, he had to. It wouldn’t be fair on Steve to admit he’d been helplessly in love with him for, oh , close to a millennium by now. Especially since Steve didn't reciprocate the feeling.

He’d just finished cleaning up his bowl and was putting the cereal back in the walk-in pantry when he heard voices approach - Sam and Steve. He was about to come out and greet them, but he overheard Sam asking Steve a question and halted.

“So, you’re saying that if you had any Christmas wish in the entire world for yourself, that’s what it would be?”

“Yeah, of course - why? Did you think I’d want a new bike or something?” Steve replied.

“Well your old bike is looking a little slow since you threw it at that Doombot last week.”

“The dents give it character,” Steve replied, before Bucky heard him sigh deeply. “But honestly, I thought it was painfully obvious what I’d want for Christmas.” 

Bucky held his breath, they didn’t realise he was here, grasping a cereal box in his metal hand tight enough it had shredded in the middle, the sweet smell of sugar infiltrated his nostrils and his stomach rumbled again. Huh , guess he wasn’t full yet.

“It wasn’t, not painfully anyway. So, you want -” Sam's voice became muffled as he stuck his head in the fridge continuing to speak, but Bucky couldn’t hear, “- but just more?”

“It sounds silly when you say it like that.”

“Nah, man - I think it’s sweet - everybody wants and deserves love for Christmas. Even a big-ass lug like you.”

“Gee, thanks Sam. You're a real stand-up guy.”

Bucky’s heart was racing, Steve, his Stevie wanted love for Christmas. That was his best friends one wish for the holidays, it was not what he expected. Bucky hadn’t thought about anything like dating for such a long time, not since he’d remembered his love for Steve in the middle of a therapy session (then spent months freaking out about it). It just didn’t seem right to pursue something with another person who he knew wouldn’t even come close to the shining light Steve was. 

He was torn between feeling elated and absolutely devastated at the news. Elated as Steve was open to love, something Bucky hadn't ever imagined, and devastated because he'd never indicated anything to Bucky about it at all.

“I guess I’d just like the closeness of being together, having long conversations full of actual words, going on dates to new places, and touching. God, touching would be wonderful, and don’t give me that look, I meant cuddles - I really miss those. But I guess that’s a bit impractical for who we are, and what we do. Still want it though.” Steve sounded sad, resigned, and Bucky didn’t like the tone at all. Steve deserved the world.

“I’m sure you’ll get what you want, Rogers.” Sam said enigmatically.

“Ha, I don’t know about that, if I’m honest - I don’t even remember how to date, what it feels like to be close with someone anymore, accept affection, jeez, give affection. I’d probably mess it up anyway if I tried to make a move.”

“Hey, man - it’s like riding a bike. I mean, maybe you could wish upon a star, see if we can rustle you up a Hallmark Christmas miracle?”

The voices trailed off as Steve complained that his life was not a made for TV movie, Sam was impressed he knew what that meant. 

Bucky waited a minute then scrambled from the pantry. His stomach twisted at the thought Steve was looking for love, craving closeness and a connection with someone. Bucky knew being an Avenger, doing what they did meant it was almost impossible to meet someone outside of their insular world. But hell, Steve had been there for Bucky from the very beginning, never losing hope, never giving up on him, so he’d find a way to help, to make him happy. 

As he fussed over making a cappuccino from the coffee machine which had more bells and whistles than JARVIS, he slowly started to form an idea. It was utterly ridiculous and harebrained as far as schemes went, but it had the bones of a great plan nonetheless. And if James Buchanan Barnes could do anything, he could execute a plan perfectly. 

He grabbed the box of Lucky Charms, his coffee and headed for his room.

He started small, testing the waters so to speak. He had no idea if what he planned would be wanted, needed, shit - Steve might just give him a black eye for his troubles. But now he knew Steve craved closeness, conversation, someone to be around - he was hoping that he could at least alleviate a small part of his pain. He knew that his best friend didn't want him on a romantic level, and no matter how much he wished it so, he wouldn't push it down that path, it wasn't fair. But he also knew, he himself shied away from speaking too much, from touching - so in some dark weird corner of his mind he'd somehow justified that by helping Steve he'd be helping himself. His therapist would be proud. Or kick his ass. But he'd stick with proud for the moment.

They were watching a documentary on toys over different generations, something Steve had wanted to see in the lead up to Christmas, and Bucky, though it wasn't on his list, was happy to share space on the couch.

It was just after Steve returned with a bowl of popcorn and settled back onto the cushions that Bucky decided to initialise his plan of attack.

"Some of these toys are ridiculous. What did we have? A bat and if lucky and you didn't hurl it into a window, a ball?"

Steve glanced at him, surprise etched on his face which made Bucky feel like shit. Christ , did he really not speak that much, for one question to elicit such a reaction?

"I accidentally threw it into Mrs Hopkins window once." He finally said, smiling softly at the memory.

"Yep, and the surly old cow didn't give it back for three weeks. We had to use… was it Tommy's little sister? Yeah, her dolls head as a ball instead."

Steve laughed loud and full of life, Bucky tried not to stare, he’d not heard this particular sound for years. 

"Oh god, I forgot about that." Steve finally managed through a chuckle.

"The scraggly hair weighted it terribly and just as I got used to it, we got the damn ball back. I couldn't hit it straight for a week." 

Bucky felt a bubble of happiness sit in his gut at seeing Steve grin widely, the set of his shoulders relaxing slightly as the blonde passed over the bowl.

Grabbing a handful of popcorn, Bucky was pleased he started with a memory from their past. Steve always enjoyed hearing them and although Bucky didn't verbalise it often, he did too. It made him feel good, a shared history before, well, everything changed.

"I can't believe someone paid over $300,000 for a doll with a black dress and necklace." Steve suddenly exclaimed, gesturing to the TV in horror.

"Well, Stevie to be fair the necklace was diamond and worth that much alone."

Steve looked pleased at the familiar nickname, and settled a cushion in behind himself.

"Plus it's a Barbie Doll, they're popular." Bucky finished, enjoying the stunned look of disbelief from Steve. He hid a smirk at the reaction, this felt fine, not overwhelming, not yet.

"And how in hell do you know what a Barbie is?"

"I'm an assassin, sorry, Avenger" he amended at Steve's sharp look. "I have a lot of downtime and like to read."

"But dolls?"

"Steve, your heterosexuality is showing. Boys can play with dolls, like pink and date other boys - it's a fantastic brave new age."

Bucky watched in interest as his friends face filled with a delicious red, he always did love teasing Steve, so why hadn't he done it in so long? He was stunned to realise he'd been too scared that his affection for Steve would be obvious, so he'd backed off completely, sequestered himself as a loner, not needing company. Had he taken it too far? Shut the one person out of his life who actually mattered?

Steve turned to look squarely at Bucky, mouth opening and closing once as if he were going to say something, but chose not to. A wry grin replaced his tentative smile before he tried again.

"You know, I never really asked what your take on all of the, uh, changes in the world were."

Bucky snatched another handful of popcorn and deflected the question, knowing exactly what Steve was asking.

"That's a loaded question right there, pal. Lots of changes to consider. I like the internet, but memes are ridiculous. I can wear my hair this length and not get called names. Takeout actually exists, I have no idea how I lived without sushi before -"

"- that's not what I… sushi? You've eaten sushi?"

"Of course I have - jeez, it's not like I’m from Jersey or something." Bucky blew out a breath in fake annoyance, pleased to see the blossoming grin on Steve's face at his teasing remarks. 

Thankfully Steve didn't ask the question of Bucky again; worried his answer would out him. He didn't think Steve would gasp in horror, shun him or otherwise if he admitted he liked boys too, he was more concerned that Steve would look at him with pity in his eyes, because he'd know instantly that Bucky was completely infatuated with him.

They settled back in to watch the show, when Bucky noticed Steve had moved closer. He resisted his natural reaction to move further away, he needed to get used to this, the nearness of another human, especially if his plan to make Steve happier was to work. They weren’t touching, not even close - but Bucky noticed the glance Steve gave him as if checking to see the proximity was okay. He schooled his features into something hopefully nonchalant and grabbed another handful of popcorn, aware that every nerve in his body knew exactly how much distance was between them to within an inch. He allowed it.

"What the hell is a Tamagotchi?"

"Hell if I know. I'll buy you one for Christmas." Bucky responded and saw Steve sink further into the couch, a smile playing around his lips. It seemed the evening was a success and the best part, Bucky didn't flinch once.

A few days later, Bucky was pulling out a tray of honey spiced gingerbread cookies from the oven; humming to himself a long forgotten tune, enjoying the mundane task of baking to escape his current headspace.

"Jesus man, can you at least use an oven mitt? It makes my hand hurt to look at you doing that." Sam exclaimed as he walked in. He had a sixth sense when it came to Bucky's baking, always arriving just as cookies were escaping the oven.

He smirked in return, then held the hot tray with his metal hand to take the cookies off slowly, one by one before placing them on the cooling rack.

"Seriously, you're messed up."

Bucky grinned, "so, you don't want a cookie then?"

"Don't break my heart, hand one over, they'll be gooey in the middle right?” Sam waited unsuccessfully for a cookie. “Seriously? Fine, but it smells like Christmas in here, which means I'm waiting until I can eat them all."

Steve took that moment to walk in, surprise flickered over his features for a second before he turned around to pour himself a coffee from the machine. The kitchen in their apartment wasn't as large and fancy as the Avengers one on the top floor, but they had the essentials. A coffee machine and a side by side oven which could just about fit sixteen pot roasts at one time. Which was handy for the way their serum metabolisms worked.

Bucky finally gave Sam a cookie who was making grabby motions and he placed another one on a plate for Steve, who sat at the counter a moment later.

"You baked." Steve remarked.

"Uh, yeah…"

"You only bake when -"

"- leave the man alone, he baked, this is delicious, you need to bake more." Sam interrupted Steve, who looked in exasperation at his friend. He grabbed another two cookies darting away from Bucky's slap.

"I had a few recipes I wanted to try, thought why not - especially as the team isn't on mission, so I have plenty of people to test these on. Can’t always just bake when my heads not right."

Steve watched him, cleary surprised at the amount of words he’d said in front of Sam, but his mouth turned down slightly at the meaning behind them. "Yeah, that’s great, Buck - but you don't usually share."

"Well maybe, Steve, I want my self-pity cookies to be… Uh…"

"Pity-party cookies?" Sam supplied, "like, you can share them with the group, not just for Steve to hog."

"Maybe I'm not ready to share them," Steve grumbled.

Something warm filled Bucky at hearing Steve moan that he wouldn't be his sole cookie recipient. Although this phase of his plan wasn't all about making Steve feel better, he knew that his friend really wanted him to make more of an effort with the wider team. So, Bucky went into baking mode. He could tell by the way Steve kept shooting glances at him as he began to mix a new batch of white Christmas fudge with extra cherries (Steve's favourite) he was gaging how Bucky was feeling, where his head was at. It was nice, but his worry wasn't warranted. For the first time in - a long time, Bucky felt in control of his reactions, his decisions. He was content, it was a novel experience.

Sam and Steve bickered over the fact Steve still had a physical paper delivered, and were both attempting to do the crossword, so he let the comfort of their voices lull him as he pottered in the kitchen.

"Hey, Buck?" Steve asked, and he hummed in response, "who's that 14th century Russian ruler again?"

"You do know I'm not the walking encyclopaedia on Russian knowledge?"

Sam scoffed, "dude, when is that white fudge stuff with the cherries done, it's been in the oven for ages? Also when are you starting the real Christmas baking? I want pudding, stat."

Bucky gave Sam a withering look which he ignored, then began playing a game on his phone, mumbling he was hungry. He walked over to Steve and stood behind him to see the crossword and what other letters he had to work with.

Quite deliberately, he placed his right hand on Steve's shoulder and leaned in, heart pounding and concerned he was pushing this too far, too soon. He felt Steve tense up, then almost immediately relax. Bucky could do this, he really wanted to do this. 

Steve was warm under his fingertips, the shoulder muscles rippling slightly as Steve settled into the touch. Bucky's fingers spasmed a second before he could still them, his heartbeat didn't get the memo to calm down though, it was beating out of his chest, trying to escape. He flattened his palm so he cupped Steve's shoulder blade and pressed a little harder. A sharp inhale of breath, undetectable except for Bucky's enhanced hearing escaped Steve. For a split second he worried it was in pain, but the way Steve held himself like Bucky was about to be scared off by the slightest provocation made him realise this wasn't the case. 

Bucky ensured only his hand touched Steve, even though his entire being sang for him to press the line of his body against the broad back before him, but he had to ease into this, had to take it slowly. For both of their sakes. Bucky didn’t want to pressure his friend, nor give the wrong impression, because Steve was a martyr and he'd give Bucky anything he asked for, no questions. He wanted Steve to want his closeness, not just give it out of some misguided obligation.

"Ivani." Bucky spoke close to Steve's ear, who in turn shivered.

"Wha...?" Steve spluttered.

"The answer -"

The oven timer sounded, at the same time as Sam proclaimed, 'about freaking time'. Bucky pushed off Steve, tingling in his fingers at the loss of warmth.

He tested the fudge with a metal skewer, "a few minutes more, Sam."

"Come on!"

Bucky smirked, then realised Steve was watching him intently, blue eyes indecipherable. He squirmed a little and turned around, feeling unsettled. He couldn't work out what was going on behind those gorgeous eyes, what was ticking in that big brain. He never could unless Steve was about to jump out of a plane with no parachute, then he was as easy to read as a book.

As he grabbed the fudge out, he noticed Steve's hand trail up to touch his shoulder. The shoulder Bucky had been leaning on.

He didn't have time to wonder about it as Sam practically yelled at him.

"Seriously man, use a damn oven mitt!"

The mission was supposed to be in and out - easy. It was turning into anything but.

Their intel found a Hydra cell operating out of Phoenix and a small team was sent to investigate. Investigate turned into an all out fight, including weapons which clearly had attributes of alien technology.

Bucky was pinned down, gunmen on almost all sides as he systematically attempted to take them out one by one with his lone gun. He’d run out of knives a minute ago and decided that he needed to up the amount he kept on his person by at least twenty. A few seconds later a ray of blue light scorched the desk next to his head, he was going to tell Tony he really needed to invest in some new defensive tech. Bucky was going to enjoy saying that to the conceited inventor - immensely.

“Buck - where are you?” Steve’s voice came through the comm jerky. He was running and fighting from what Bucky could work out.

“I’m good, just get yourself out - is Nat fine?”

He got to one knee and shot over the remainder of the desk he had left to hide behind. The person in black dropped.

“She’s good. Where are you?” Steve asked again. Bucky could almost see the clenched jaw on Steve. He could hear it in his voice, stubborn fool.

Bucky dropped back out of sight and reloaded, he only had one clip left and he had no idea how many of these Hydra cronies he had to eliminate. Another heat of blue came closer. Shit.

“God damn it, Bucky. Answer me!”

“Answer him dude, I'm not having him pout for the rest of the day, then veto pizza for some cabbage soup in celebration.” Clint’s voice echoed through the comm. 

“I happen to love cabbage soup." Bucky couldn’t help but goad.

“Buck,” Steve’s voice warned.

He popped up for another shot and almost got a face full of blue electricity, swearing, he fell backwards, blinded a second. Maybe he did require assistance.

“In the offices, right side of the warehouse, third floor.”

“Finally,” he heard Natasha drawl, who had suddenly come back online. “Barton, you got my flank covered?”

“Always, but I prefer it uncovered.”

“Guys!” Sam’s weary voice began, “just get the job done.”

The next few minutes found Bucky crawling behind cover, trying to find another place to hole up as he shot and ducked. He systematically scoped his options, looking at his position and where he was stuck, how many gunman had appeared, the amount of bullets he had left then realised his only option was the window. He could shoot it out, slam through and although it was three stories up, he’d had worse. It was only concrete below - right? 

Just as he raised his gun to shoot the glass, he heard grunts and curses from further out in the office and the familiar thwang of a disc being thrown. Steve had arrived.

Bucky jumped out, shooting, not concerned about his bullet count now. He watched with half an eye at where Steve was, where he was focusing his attack before joining the fray. It was like old times, and also new times - he and Steve just worked well together in the field. He always had his six.

Until today.

To be fair, neither of them saw it coming until it had been fired. The huge gun which looked like a grenade launcher (though Bucky knew better now after seeing the blue blasters), slammed into Steve’s side and he was thrown back through the window Bucky was all but about to jump from a moment before.

“Fuck - Caps been shot. I’m going after him.” Bucky was already throwing himself out the shattered window, knowing he only had less than a nano to act and grab Steve. Everything happened in seconds but also felt like an eon.

How in hell his plan worked, Bucky had no idea. One second he was falling after Steve, the next he’d managed to grab him and spin at the last moment to fall on his back. 

Straight on to an old army truck with a canvas canopy.

Steve landed heavily on him and as pain hit, Bucky wondered if he’d snapped his spine in half from the fall, knowing he was lucky the truck and canvas was there in the first place as concrete would have been harder to shake off.

Bucky groaned at the combined pain from the weight of Steve, who was not moving and also from hitting a semi-hard surface, winding him. He’d be fine, he knew it, he’d been injured much worse, but panic flew through his body at the fact Steve hadn’t moved.

“Report.” Natasha’s voice flew through the comm.

“I’m alive. Steve’s breathing, but incapacitated.”

“Where are you?” Natasha snapped, “Third floor still?”

“About that…” Bucky began when Steve moaned above him. Oh, thank god.

“Report, Soldier.” She yelled, and Bucky heard gunfire through the comm, and also mimicked out in the open. She must be nearby.

“Ground floor, outside, back of a truck.”

“What the? Right. Quinjet will be there in a second. Clint, take out the remaining goons on the third floor, Sam, I need eyes on the warehouse, make sure who we took down are staying down.”

Clint snickered through the comms and Bucky heard him murmur, “goons, hired, goons.”

“Clint, I swear to God -”

“- I’m going, sheesh.”

“Warehouse clear,” Sam spoke a minute later as Bucky lay in the back of a truck getting his breath back, realising that the relief of Steve moving had washed all the adrenaline from his body. He had to move them, he knew this, they were sitting ducks. But, Steve was finally pressed up against Bucky, albeit not in the way he’d imagined, because - Steve was practically unconscious. And consent was sexy.

A moment later, he slid out from under the hefty blonde and quickly took stock of Steve’s injuries. The blast had nicked him in the side, a gaping tear in his uniform showed angry red skin, a splattering of blood, but no hole tearing through his body, which was what Bucky had been afraid of. Sending a thankyou to the super serum gods, he yanked Steve up, just as the Quinjet arrived, Bruce at the helm.

“Sorry I’m late, need a ride?”

Bucky dragged Steve into the belly of the jet, strapping him into a seat, then sat beside him, too tired to take up his usual seat across the aisle and in the corner - alone.

The rest of the team joined them soon after, Nat and Sam heading directly to the cockpit to talk to Bruce about the intel they'd gathered (once they’d checked over Steve), and Clint flung himself dramatically across the seats opposite, arm over his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. 

Bucky sat back, head hitting the wall behind him then looked beside him at his reckless and stupid friend. He was going to murder him, as soon as he was well enough for it to stick.

Steve made a small whimper and suddenly Bucky had six foot plus of super soldier pressed against his side, head resting on Bucky’s shoulder and a strong hand grasping Bucky’s bicep, in comfort, or worry Bucky was going to disappear - he wasn’t sure. But he once again allowed the contact, he was after all trying to instigate it himself. He’d promised himself that if Steve ever reached out, he would not flinch.

About an hour into the trip home while Clint snored obnoxiously, Steve shifted and Bucky felt a chill where Steve’s hand no longer held his arm. He looked down into hazy blue, confused eyes. Eyes which swept the plane then back at his position all but snuggled up against Bucky. He stiffened.

“Uh, sorry…”

“It's ok, Punk. But stop putting your fucking life on the line, that serem may have given you brawn but you're still a dumb ass.” Bucky’s voice was gruff, but he managed to keep it low so as not to wake Clint.

Steve exhaled slowly, body pressing into Bucky a little harder before hesitating a moment then started to move away.

Without even second guessing himself and running on instinct at this point, Bucky pulled Steve back against him, so his head flopped onto his shoulder once more. A moment later Steve’s hand reasserted itself around his bicep.

“This ok?” Steve asked sleepily, fingers twitching against Bucky as if ready to flee at a seconds notice. “I can move if you want?”

“Just sleep it off, Stevie.”

Steve spent a second in repose, about to say more, but to Bucky’s surprise he just nodded his head to get into a more comfortable position, then fell asleep within minutes.

Even sitting up stiff, sore, bleeding and exhausted, Bucky had never felt so physically relaxed in his life. Steve’s touch a salve he hadn’t realised he’d been missing all these years.

“You got plans today?” Bucky asked courageously as he popped some toast in, ignoring how adorably ruffled Steve was in the mornings. His blonde hair currently stuck up in a thousand different directions, but only on the left side. Bucky now knew what position Steve slept in the night before, and his stomach did a strange flip at the knowledge.

He'd be lying if he said he'd never craved to watch Steve sleep, had done so occasionally in the past, especially on watch during the war. But his desire was borne from wanting to wake up beside him in the morning to find Steve snoring softly, not creepily sitting in a chair staring from across the room.

“Uh, not really - maybe train with Thor later.”

“Sounds good, want to head out before that?”

“Out?” Steve questioned with a quirk of his brow.

“Yeah, with me? There's a new exhibition at the Met I thought would be cool to see.” His toast popped and he grabbed the butter and kept speaking, trying not to dwell on if what he was asking was too much - it was a big step for him. “Maybe we could get some lunch, check out a few smaller galleries. There's this hotdog stand Clint bangs on about, I think you'll like it...”
Bucky wasn’t getting any response, so with a heavy dose of trepidation he lifted his eyes up from his toast, thinking the worst - that he'd overstepped. Instead he found Steve staring at him in astonishment, mouth slightly open, which was much more inviting than Bucky needed it to be, especially as he was wearing loose sweatpants. Shifting slightly, willing his reaction away, he attempted to keep a straight face, not one which said he wanted to devour Steve whole (in a completely non Hannibal way). He held up a hand when no response was forthcoming, glad it wasn't shaking with the nerves he felt.

“Hey Bud, all good - you don’t have to, I can -”

“ - no!” Steve shouted and Bucky took a step back, watching as the blonde cursed and ran a hand over his face.

“I mean, I’d love to, Buck. Been a while since we explored the world together without having a mission in the way.” His expression softened as he continued to watch Bucky keenly.

Not understanding the searching look he was receiving, nor what Steve expected him to say, he grinned in a friendly manner, heart hammering in uncertainty.

“Perfect, two pals creating havoc, just like the old days.”

Steve’s eyes darted to his own, and for a split second Bucky swore he saw something akin to disappointment shadow the bright blue. Maybe Steve wasn’t on board for this date… this outing, he amended.

“Pals…” Steve whispered, and before Bucky could react, he shook his head and continued, “alright, I’ll go get dressed and we can head out.”

“Great.” Bucky said to an empty seat, as when he turned Steve had already fled. 

Crunching on his toast as he cleaned up, he wondered on Steve’s reaction. It appeared like he wanted to spend the day with him, but there was also a certain reservation in the way Steve held himself. Should he be worried, was Steve on to his plan? On to Bucky’s true purpose to show him how much he deserved love, to get him prepared to accept this kind of date from someone else - someone Steve actually wanted to be with.

Bucky's stomach churned and he threw out his half eaten piece of toast. He pushed aside the small voice in his head which told him he was going too deep, but for Steve - he knew he’d do anything.

Half an hour later they left the Tower rugged up against the chill of the winter air, grabbing the first subway they could - which was way too crowded for the time of day.

Bucky tried not to touch anyone surrounding him as they stood holding the strap above their heads, and was doing a fairly good job of dodging elbows and chests. But every so often, Steve's body would sway into his, and if he swayed towards him at the same time, well no one had to know but him.

The casual leaning into each other lasted their entire trip through the Met, and Bucky was more than a little surprised to note Steve instigated the touch more often than not. He pressed his side to Bucky when talking about different pieces, and as they passed through different doorways, an almost touch to the small of his back guiding him certainly didn’t make Bucky squirm in discomfit. No, it was eliciting a different response and he was just not ready for it. Sure, he’d loved Steve secretly for more time than he’d like to admit, but having a small modicum of attention back, for whatever reason, was discombobulating. Bucky was not ready for the way his heart burst out of his chest at every touch, the way his body thrummed with unanswered anticipation for the next press of Steve’s body. He needed to rein in his reactions. He was only just getting used to touching Steve, and having that touch returned was frying every brain cell he had. And not in a bad way.

Instead of backing off, which is what he should have done, Bucky went full steam ahead, pulling Steve’s head down to whisper funny anecdotes about different pieces into his ear, grabbing his large bicep to pull him to other artwork and smiling more. His cheeks hurt from it, he didn’t usually show his happiness in such a physical way. But being able to touch Steve after so many years of careful indifference, was like a drug and he was giddy on it.

The plan to make Steve relax and be comfortable seemed to work, as Bucky had never seen his eyes shine with such brightness, such a carefree happiness of being out and about, seeing things which genuinely interested him. Bucky hoped in hell that his covert training over the years ensured he was hiding the lovesick look he was certain burst through every three minutes. But Steve never mentioned it, and Bucky ducked his head when he thought it was getting too obvious.

The day was turning out perfect, it was easy and Bucky relished every second they spent together.

“I hate to say it but Clint was right. This dog is amazing, what's on it?” Steve asked around another mouthful.

“The usual I think, sauerkraut, onion, mustard - but I’m pretty sure Joe makes his own sauce blends.”

“Joe? You’ve had these before?” Steve questioned and took another bite, sauce gathering in the corner crease of his mouth, Bucky’s hand twitched with the need to wipe it off, he managed to halt the motion.

“Uh, yeah - about once a week if I can.”

Steve smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes. The sauce still on his mouth, Bucky’s fingers twitched further.

“Oh, I thought you’d never been there before.”

“Well, I couldn’t bring my best guy to a stand which turned out to be crap could I? Had to try the goods first.”

Bucky stopped walking and turned back when he realised Steve had fallen behind and wasn’t moving anymore. The strangest expression crossed Steve’s handsome face, halfway between a confused frown and a brilliant smile.

“You’ve been thinking about bringing me here then? For a while?”

“Of course.” Bucky replied and shrugged, not understanding why Steve was so surprised. “Figured you'd like it, Clint mentioned it a while ago and I tried it, met Joe and the rest is history. The fact you bought four dogs kinda makes it apparent I was right.”

Steve grinned and it just got too much for Bucky. He stepped forward and using his right hand he reached up and swiped his finger along the sauce captured in the corner of Steve’s mouth. The blonde inhaled sharply as Bucky sucked the sauce off his finger, damn Joe made good sauce, then he stopped. What in hell had he just done?

Steve’s eyes were wide in shock, his cheeks infused with pink and Bucky could’ve slapped his forehead at the stupidity he’d just shown. It was instinct, pure and utter instinct.

“Uh…” Bucky started, but fell short on any explanation, because he didn’t have one.

“Buck…” Steve breathed out, words heavy and full of an emotion Bucky couldn’t pinpoint. His feet were stuck, he couldn’t move, he stood rooted to the spot before Steve, captured by the intense look he was receiving. His brain decided to flee.

“Oh hey, you’re Captain America right? Can I have your autograph?” A voice broke the trance Bucky was in and he turned to see a thirty something man holding out a paper receipt and pen.

“Huh?” Steve muttered confused, before looking at the expectant man. “Uh, sure, what’s your name?”

Bucky took a few steps away and waited for Steve as he quickly chatted to the man, blue gaze darting to Bucky every second or so. Taking in a few deep breaths, Bucky centred himself, he needed to get his head back on straight. Ha , there was nothing straight about spending time with Steve.

“Err, Buck?”

He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to discuss his transgression on touching Steve’s face - his lips, he was absolutely mortified. He’d not only reached his quota of touch for the day, he’d pole vaulted over it and made Steve uncomfortable in the process. 

Knowing his voice was slightly rough he asked, ”right, so are you ready for the next Gallery? There’s one two blocks away which has an exhibition on Tony Stark made out of trash - thought it might be a laugh. Maybe we could do a bit of Christmas shopping after if you want and have time?”

Steve was quiet for a moment as his eyes darted over Bucky’s face and he knew it was red, but he couldn’t help it, he should’ve worn his hair down, at least he could’ve hidden behind it. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, averting his eyes. Did he screw the whole day up?

“Sure, that sounds great.” Steve finally replied with a long exhale and Bucky relaxed that he wasn’t demanding to go home.

It was only awkward for a few minutes, and thankfully the rest of the day went smoothly, albeit Bucky did notice that there were no more touches from either of them, and Steve’s smile never quite reached his eyes as it did earlier in the day. Thinking on it for a moment, it could only be a good thing for Bucky. He needed a little time out from the Steve centric thoughts running through his head. His plan was for Steve to feel loved, coveted, connected, he just didn’t expect his traitorous body to want it in return. He rationalised he’d try harder to keep his feelings out of this, it was after all about Steve, not about him.

Natasha casually leant up against the gym wall beside Bucky, foot up behind her and knee bent as they watched Steve and Thor train. Both men were sweating and giving it their all, and Bucky was feeling like a voyeur, enjoying the sheen of perspiration coating Steve a little too much.

“Have a nice date the other day?”

“What?” Bucky stammered as he glanced at the redhead. “Date?”

Natasha looked up at him slyly and Bucky had somehow forgotten how devilishly observant she was. It was quite frankly scary and a little awe inspiring.

“With Steve. You took him for a day on the town, I heard it was wonderful.”

“Uh, it wasn’t,” Bucky started then at Natasha’s sharp scoff, he huffed out a breath. “I mean it was wonderful, just not a date. Seriously, Nat, don’t look at me like that. I just, I dunno, just wanted to take him out, we haven’t really hung together alone in the city for as long as I can remember. Sure we live in the same apartment and chill there, but it’s different.”

“I should say so,” She replied cryptically. Then turned to face him, eyes narrowed in thought, "you know, you’re the happiest I've seen since you came back from Wakanda. Each day you relax more, share more, god you're positively chatty now. He's good for you, and you're good for him."

"Happy? I think my goats had a bit to do with that - they were great company - didn’t ask any questions and weren't nosy.” She grinned at him, “honestly though, I don’t think I’m good for anyone, Nat. Not anymore, once maybe, but that was a long time ago."

“James, you’re an idiot.” She said in exasperation.

He laughed wryly, “I’m well aware.”

Letting out another frustrated huff, she just side-eyed him, “a colossal one. You’ll eventually figure it out. Wanna spar?” 

Wanting to do anything but talk, Bucky gave a wolfish grin and nodded his head. An hour later his body was screaming at him and he regretted everything he’d ever done in his life to get to this point. At some stage Steve and Thor had stopped their fight to watch Natasha and he fly across the mats, using the walls and any equipment to jump off and spin - it was indoor parkour but with a lot more punching and kicking. And Natasha was landing the majority of blows. Bucky loved and hated sparring with her in equal measures. They were well matched.

Next minute Steve and Thor joined the fray, and Bucky had to suddenly contend with brute force and sneaky tactics. It took all of his brain power to let go of his rampaging thoughts, to follow the fight and just be in the moment. When he did, it was freeing, it was exactly what he craved to silence the noise in his head.

Steve began one of his signature moves of running directly for the enemy, then jumping to body slam them into submission. But Bucky knew this move, knew it well. At the last minute he dropped and swung his body backwards, which meant Steve floundered with no Bucky to connect with, landing on the ground hard. He looked up in disbelief at Bucky’s smug face.

“You did that on purpose?”

“Of course I did, Stevie - I’m here to win, not placate your pretty face.” Then before he panicked over what he’d uttered, because pretty - what in hell? - he launched himself at Thor’s back.

Things really started to get heated when Natasha and Steve teamed up, they’d been fighting together for years and had their own style, which generally meant Steve threw her into the fight using complicated move sets. Usually Bucky loved watching their dynamic, but today he found it unsettling. He wasn’t certain he liked the looks between the two, the way they complimented each other and knew what the other was wanting to attempt. It took longer than it should have to realise what he felt was jealousy and judging by the smirk Natasha gave him, she'd figured it out before he did. Oh shit.

Before he could really slide into panic, Thor managed to get his hands on Steve and threw him against the wall, harder than any of them expected. They stopped immediately when Steve grunted in pain and held up his hand to stop them. It took all of Bucky’s willpower to just walk to his friend and not run at a screaming pace.

“You ok?” He asked instead, eyes roaming over him in worry, searching for any signs of blood or injury.

“Yeah - just knocked the wind out of me, and got my shoulder hard on the pylon. I think I’m done - you guys can keep going though.”

Bucky took one look at Steve wincing and turned to the others, “I’m done anyway. I’ll take him back to the apartment and ice his shoulder.”

Natasha gave him a knowing look and he only just refrained from flipping her the bird, but he was a former assassin and it wasn’t seemly. He poked his tongue out at her when Thor and Steve weren’t looking, enjoying her sharp bark of surprised laughter. 

Steve had always been and probably always would be, a grumpy patient. He hated being hurt, being weak, and he hated to be mollycoddled even more.

“Just sit for a minute, god damn it. Seriously - I just want to look at it, otherwise I can go get the doctor.”

Steve finally agreed when the threat of getting a professional in to look at it was made, he was such a child. It wasn’t too bad but needed a little TLC, so Bucky prepared the ice while Steve had a quick cold shower, then made him lie on the couch after, pressing it to the soreness. Within a few minutes Steve was asleep, Bucky for the first time in a long time able to look his fill at the blonde, face relaxed and carefree. His stomach twisted in knots, heart racing as he sat back in his seat and just soaked in his Stevie. Fuck - he was so in love, it was almost borderlining pathetic.

Knowing he didn’t want to be caught out, Bucky went to wrap the presents he’d brought the day before, hoping Steve would love his idiotic gift, then he pulled their tree from storage and got everything ready for them to decorate it when Steve woke up.

“Oh, you got the tree out?” A sleepy voice made Bucky jump a little.

He turned and couldn’t help the soft affection in his gaze as he watched Steve sit up rubbing his eyes tiredly, before his hand moved to his shoulder, making him wince slightly.

“Shoulder okay?” Bucky asked as he placed the box of baubles down.

“Yeah, no swelling now, super serum you know - it just feels a bit pinched.”

“On the floor.” Bucky commanded without thinking.

“What?” Steve asked, voice slightly more high pitched than usual.

“Slide onto the floor in front of the couch.” 

Steve did so, eyebrow cocked and a faint tinge of colour high on his cheeks. Bucky wasn’t sure if it was the command in his voice or the fact he’d climbed onto the couch and spread his legs either side of Steve’s body which elicited the reaction. But he settled in and made an impatient tug at Steve’s too tight t-shirt.

“Wha...?” Steve squeaked.

“Top off.”

Bucky clearly didn’t think this through properly, or at all. To be fair, he didn’t think a lot of things through when it came to Steve. But as the tanned expanse of Steve’s shoulders and back came into view, Bucky felt a stirring in his pants. He slid back a little to ensure Steve couldn’t feel anything untoward against him.

Then he placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder, and with nothing between their skin he quickly placed his metal hand against him too, just to gain some semblance of control over his crazed heartbeat. He began to manipulate the muscles carefully, fingers tingling at the sensation and he was not sure he’d mentally prepared himself for this touch. Of course he hadn’t, he didn’t plan on yelling at Steve to take his top off then press his hands all over his back, who would plan for that?

“Shit, Buck…’ Steve groaned, relaxing into Bucky’s hands, and damn it - it made Bucky’s cock go from interested, to ‘let’s play’ in an instant. He shifted once more, the fullness in his sweatpants distracting. He was going to need a cold shower the minute this was done to deal with the situation. He’d jacked off more times than he was comfortable with to the thought of Steve, not proud of it, but when he was halfway through a fantasy, how could he help if a familiar blonde head slid in for the grand finale. He wasn’t always proud of his morals.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Steve asked huskily and Bucky swore under his breath, this man was going to kill him.

“Yep.” Bucky popped the ‘p’.

“But are you certain?” Steve asked again more urgently.

Bucky continued to dig in his fingers where he could feel the tension and found a blonde head falling backwards almost into his lap, before he straightened up with a slight moan. Dead, dead as a doornail.

“Steve, are you asking me for my consent, to touch you ?”

“Uh…”

“If I didn't want to do this, Champ, I wouldn't.”

That seemed to shut Steve up for a moment and he moved his hands lower, feeling a sharp intake of breath and the sudden tenseness of Steve, who muttered something before he squared his shoulders. It seemed like he was ready to fight, flee, or confess something.

“So, uh, is there anything else you’d want to -”

“- Cap-got your tounge and murder bot...” Tony slammed into their apartment, then stopped when he saw their position, brow raised.

“Again!” Steve exclaimed, making Bucky frown. Again what? 

“JARVIS, I thought we agreed to not let Tony in?” Steve followed up exasperatedly.

“I’m sorry, Sir - he does have the override code. I will do better in the future.”

“Ohhh, am I interrupting a love-in?”

Bucky’s hands jerked away from Steve’s shoulders, he hadn’t even realised he’d been running his hands comfortingly up and down his expansive back, massage forgotten. Steve’s back was flushed red, and he grabbed his t-shirt, throwing it on but not moving from his spot on the floor. Bucky felt calmer at this for some reason, his thighs still bracketed Steve.

“What do you want? And I’ve told you before not to call Buck that.”

“S’okay,” Bucky started then stopped at Steve’s betrayed look over his shoulder. Okay, apparently it wasn’t okay.

“Christmas movie night, no excuses, we are scraping the barrel for the most ridiculous movies, apparently ‘Jingle all the way’ and 'A mom for Christmas' are top picks. I need more people to overthrow Barton.”

Bucky’s legs involuntarily tightened either side of Steve’s shoulders and he got a sharp look, crap , he didn’t mean to react that way in the face of having to move. Being so close to Steve was messing with him, especially since he’d been running his hands along naked skin for a while. He was feeling a little raw and needed to assimilate prior to being in company.

“I’ll come up in a minute, Steve you go ahead, I need to shower anyway,” he paused as Tony smirked at him, “err, because I stink after the workout.”

There was no way in hell he was going to admit he needed to jerk off rapidly to ease the tension running through his body. He was scared if he didn’t take things in hand, then he’d poke somebody's damn eye out.

When he made it to the Avengers lounge a half hour later, the movie had only just started, and snacks were being handed around. The only spot left was conveniently next to Steve, he thanked Natasha sarcastically in his head when she glanced at him, smirk firmly in place. As he relaxed back into the large couch he hoped like hell Steve couldn’t tell he’d literally been three fingers deep imagining being filled by him fifteen minutes earlier. His cock made another interested twitch when Steve placed a rug over them both and settled in, shoulders barely touching and a small fond glance which tripped Bucky’s heartbeat. 

Arnold Schwarzenegger’s distinctive voice took over and Bucky knew immediately he wasn’t going to remember a thing about this movie, because Steve’s hand grazed his outer thigh as he placed a hand on his own leg, and suddenly soft featherlike movements began up and down against his thigh in a comforting manner. Steve never even glanced his way, it was almost an unconscious act and Bucky’s stomach swooped with each movement.

Spending the entire evening on edge was not doing Bucky’s overactive imagination any good. His body was taut like a violin string from Steve’s ministrations and he had no idea at all if Steve knew what torture it was to have this and not to reach back. And boy, did he want to reach back - but what would happen if he tangled his fingers with Steves? Would that be crossing some imaginary line in Bucky’s head?

What was he even trying to achieve anymore with his best friend? Conversing together and reminiscing without awkward silences, well he’d managed that. Taking him out on a date (which Steve didn’t know was a date), ticked off. Touching him in a way that was not creepy, yet still showed he was there for him - well Bucky certainly was hyper aware of every - single - touch. Which led to the last part - Bucky with a constant hard-on, check that box off with a flourish. 

This was not what he had in mind with his plan. Ha, plan indicated that he even had one. He legitimately threw himself into wanting to be the best person for Steve and in the end had muddied the waters. 

Everything was simple when it was he who reached out, he who instigated the touch, because never in a million years did he think Steve would want to reach out in return. Now he had, and Bucky’s brain was all jumbled.

His original idea was to show Steve he was worthy, that he could have love. It sounded so absolutely ridiculous now - that wasn’t an idea or a plan - it was an excuse for Bucky to project his feelings onto the one person who had always been there for him.

The last issue with Bucky’s non-plan had also reared its head, now Bucky knew exactly how Steve’s naked skin felt under his hands, saw his blinding smile up close again, knew what having him reach out to willingly touch in return felt like, it had opened the floodgates. He wanted to be the one worthy enough for Steve to date, he didn’t want Steve to date anyone else. How the hell did Bucky not foresee this complication?

He spent the next few days slowly freaking out, which in turn meant he’d unintentionally started to pull away from talking to and touching Steve. He didn’t mean to, but he was obsessing over every little moment, trying to read more into it than what was there. And that was not going to be good for the precarious place his head currently sat in.

Out the corner of his eye, he caught glances thrown his way, the puzzled and almost hurt look Steve carried around when Bucky didn’t respond, and he mourned the lack of smiles. Maybe his non-plan wasn’t foolproof. Maybe somehow he’d hurt Steve’s feelings in the midst of his own tumultuous emotions, and he wasn’t sure on what to do.

“James, you need to speak to Steve.”

He lowered his eyes to the caramel latte he was pretending to drink and ignored Natasha for a moment. They’d escaped the Tower because Natasha said quote, ‘I’m sick of seeing your sappy face moping around the place this close to Christmas’. They ended up at a coffee shop a few blocks away, a slice of chocolate cake uneaten before him, he really was in trouble if even chocolate didn’t tempt him.

Letting out a deep sigh he finally caught her green eyes crinkled in concern for him, it was disconcerting to not be on the end of her glare, though he was certain that was still coming.  

“I speak to him…”

She huffed out an annoyed breath, he was being cagey, he knew it - but he also didn’t really want to come clean with his plan, it seemed ridiculous to say it out loud.

“Sure you do. but I think you need to speak about this thing that’s been going on the last month. Look it’s almost Christmas, don’t you want everything sorted out by then?”

Bucky sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his face hard, rubbing his eyes tiredly, he wasn’t sleeping so well. When he lowered his hands, a quirked eyebrow greeted him. He wasn’t at all surprised Natasha knew something was up - he didn’t even try to deny or fight it.

“Of course I do, but what do I say? Oh, hey Stevie, I decided that after eavesdropping on you and Sam, I would attempt to give you what you want for Christmas, unsolicited, therefore blurring the lines of our friendship on both sides, confusing you and forgetting my real motivation, and I almost forgot - hey, I love you - always have?”

“It’s a start.”

“Come on, Nat. I can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because apart from looking like an absolute idiot with no sense of self, Steve doesn’t want me like that.”

Natasha hummed, “I think you’d be surprised.”

Bucky sighed, “I appreciate you saying that, but we both know Steve. There is no one out there more balls out honest, truthful and who speaks how it is. If he even had a smidge of… something for me. He wouldn’t back down or ignore it. He’d say something.”

“Okay, you have a point about his personality type,” she paused, looking thoughtful for a minute. “Look, I can’t speak as to why he wouldn’t have said anything, but I could counter and ask why you haven’t?”

“Because I’m a sad and broken assassin, sorry - former assassin,” he amended at her look, “who has issues stacked on top of repression, built next to a skyscraper of fear with self doubt sprinkled haphazardly on top.”

“Well, you certainly have a way with words when you finally decide to use them.”

He smiled wryly at Natasha as she stole his spoon and began eating the cake, he didn’t even flinch - although he could now smell the sweetness. Maybe one spoonful would be palatable.

“Just think about it, okay?”

He nodded, having no idea on what he should do. Ignoring it seemed like a feasible plan of action. It was his go-to in most situations.

“Also, go get some sleep, you look like shit.” She grinned and held out the spoon with a large piece of cake, Bucky ate it, feeling instantly better. He was going to take Nat’s advice - about sleeping at any rate.

Bucky slammed his body against the muddied ditch, keeping his head low so as not to get it shot off, checking the ammo in his gun - he was out. Bullets rained down on their position and the heat of the fire at their backs made the situation even more impossible. He tried to think of a plan to get out but kept coming up with a blank. Looking down at his metal hand he knew he was useless - he couldn’t save these people, these people who depended on him.

He looked over and caught Dum Dums face then saw Natasha behind him and then Peter and Falsworth, they all looked at him for a plan - he had nothing. It was his fault - they were all going to die.

Suddenly a body was thrown into their midst, thrown from the enemy. They had been doing this for hours, teasing them relentlessly with bodies of their fallen comrades. It was a form of torture which wasn’t ending. He toed the body, they were riddled with bullets and blood covered their back, he took a deep breath and spun the small framed person over.

“Stevie!”

“Stevie!” Bucky woke screaming, tangled in his sheets, he couldn’t move. He was trapped and tried wrenching himself from his bed. As his heart stuttered in his chest and he tried to take deep breaths, he realised he wasn’t alone.

Strong arms wrapped around his frame, holding him against a wall of warmth. It was a chest, a naked chest. Soothing platitudes came from above him, soft murmurs that ‘everything would be okay’ and, ‘he had him, he was safe now’. It took a moment for Bucky to grasp he was in bed and Steve was wrapped tightly around him. The fight left him; he was exhausted from his dream and the realisation Steve had obviously heard him yelling throughout the nightmare and came to comfort, something Bucky craved yet also feared. For a myriad of reasons.

“Hey…” he tried, failing as his voice cracked, Steve tensed up against him but didn’t let go. Bucky was glad, it meant Steve was alive, here - with him.

“Buck? I’m sorry, I know you don’t like me coming in…” he paused and started again as Bucky tried to battle the haze in his thoughts, “you were screaming out my name and I couldn’t... I couldn’t just leave you.”

Bucky nodded his head, which was still nestled against Steve’s chest, and the feeling of all that skin against him was a balm. He’d been without touch for such a long time, and now he’d stupidly conditioned himself to need it. His plan really was ridiculous - how on earth was he supposed to let Steve loose to the world of dating when all he wanted to do was date him himself? He was an A-grade idiot.

“It’s okay.” He finally managed to parse out between dry lips.

Steve inhaled sharply, letting out one long shaky breath and Bucky realised he’d unconsciously hugged Steve back; fingers rubbing small circles along the base of Steve’s spine. He halted the movement once he realised what he was doing and just held on tight. Bucky was so sleepy and disoriented, he could blame his lack of good sense on the nightmare. Christ , he could still see Steve’s small lifeless body looking up at him.

“I can go if you’d like.” Steve murmured into Bucky’s hair.

Bucky’s arms tightened without his say so, a soft chuckle escaping Steve - rumbling through his chest. Bucky nestled against him further, allowing himself this touch, savouring it and placing it in his memory vault for the rest of his days.

“Okay, Pal, I’m not going anywhere....” Steve hesitated and Bucky almost let go, embarrassed down to his toes that he was forcing this closeness, “want to lie down?”

Relief flooded him at the soft careful words. Not trusting his voice yet, he managed to nod in assent. To his surprise Steve didn’t let go, not once, he always had a point of contact against Bucky’s skin - and it was wonderful. He maneuvered them down further on the bed, so Steve lay on his back, half draping Bucky across his chest. He couldn’t help but snuggle in closer, ensuring the line of his entire body was against Steve’s. It was magical and also awful that Bucky took this comfort so readily, without protest - especially as Steve was being a good friend. While on the other hand, Bucky was taking so much more from it - pretending it was real, that Steve loved him back.

Before panic settled in and Bucky blurted out something unforgivable, fingers began to card his hair and he melted further into Steve’s warmth. Oh god , that right there was what he’d been missing, and he was a terrible person as he never wanted it to end. Steve’s fingers were soft and gentle as they slid through his long hair, and the tension which held Bucky taut loosened with every pass.

His breathing began to even out and he slipped back into sleep, the ghost of lips on the crown of his head clearly his misguided imagination.

Bucky lay on the couch half watching a show about cooking disasters while dozing off. The night before had completely wiped him out, he was exhausted on too many levels and his mind was jumping from one thought to another about Steve comforting him in the middle of the night. The strong sure arms which wrapped around his shivering body and held on, never wavering had Bucky losing his mind. It just felt so… right.

Bucky woke up alone that morning, a thermos of coffee on the bedside with a post-it which stated, ‘drink me’ and a haphazard smiley face. Steve had probably gone to the gym or had an early meeting with Fury, and Bucky staved off the feeling of disappointment at having and subsequently losing the chance to wake up beside Steve. Which was something he shouldn’t ever wish for, because it was not his to take, no matter how much his body yearned for it.

Rolling over onto his back he ignored the screaming chef and stared at the roof, spotting the footprint from when he threw a shoe at the roof to kill a spider. He really should wipe it off.

Sighing deeply, he placed a hand over his eyes and let his mind wander.

What was he going to do about the situation? Steve told something in confidence to Sam, having no idea Bucky heard and in his infinite wisdom, instead of being an adult and talking to Steve about what he wanted out of this Christmas wish - what he was actually looking for, he tried to jump in feet first to fix it, without offering. 

James Buchanan Barnes was never going to be the smartest person in Brooklyn.

“Ugh,” he yelled at the shoe print.

Maybe he just had to come clean, tell Steve that he deserved the world and because he didn’t meet other people outside of the Avengers, Bucky thought he could alleviate some loneliness for him until he did meet the right person. But all this did was inadvertently make Bucky fall even more in love (how was that possible?) and now he coveted all of Steve's attention and didn’t want to let him go - ever.

“Not weird, not creepy and stalkery at all…”  Hell, did Steve even like men? That stopped Bucky in his tracks. This could all be a moot point if Steve didn’t feel attraction for him in return. He'd never explicitly said he didn't like men, and Bucky had seen the way Steve appreciated people in the gym, both for their strength and physique. But did that translate to feeling attraction - did Bucky now need to worry about this?

"Oh for fucks sake…" his voice bounced off the lounge walls.

He wasn't going to spend time on what ifs. He would do what the Barnes's did best and ignore it with a dose of repression and hope like hell everything worked out for the best. An absolutely healthy life adage if he'd ever heard one.

As he tried zoning out again, he heard the front door click shut before footsteps arrived into the room. He didn’t pretend to be asleep but stayed quiet with his eyes shut against the world. Steve would be able to tell with his hearing anyway that he was awake. A soft chuckle and the sound of Steve shuking his shoes infiltrated Bucky’s hearing.

“Move over…” Steve said and Bucky could hear the weariness in his voice before the smell of Steve’s shampoo and soap washed over him, so he had been working out. 

Large hands tried to push him to the back of the couch and he finally opened his eyes to glare up at Steve.

“Hey,” he protested, annoyed at being manhandled.

Steve smiled softly and Bucky's heart lurched sideways at the familiarity of it, which only lasted a second before the big idiot pushed at Bucky's body again until he was up against the back cushions. What the hell?

Before he could protest further, Steve had flopped himself on the couch as well, lying right beside Bucky so they were pressed up against the other. The couch was big, granted, but not so big to fit two super soldiers without them being intimately entwined.

He stopped breathing. Completely.

“Wha…?”

“I’m wiped,” Steve murmured as he unselfconsciously grabbed Bucky’s forearm and threw it over his waist to create extra space, and suddenly Bucky Barnes was cuddling his best friend on their couch. His heart thumped so loudly he knew Steve could hear it, hell, they were so close he could probably feel it. Mortified, he shut his eyes against the blonde head so very close to his. This could not be happening.

"What are you watching?" 

It was happening. 

Bucky wasn't sure how to respond, probably saying, 'the back of your head', was not appropriate, also, 'I'm watching my hands so they don't accidentally slip into your sweat pants and grab your dick' also shouldn't be uttered.

"Uh, something on the food network."

"Any good?"

Steve moved a little, obviously trying to get comfy as he had to be hanging off the couch a bit - so Bucky did the gracious thing of scooting back as far as possible and drawing his arm in, making Steve move so his back was flush with Bucky's front. His nose was now almost pressed against the back of Steve's neck, and he smelt delicious.

This was never going to end badly, not at all.

"Was trying to get ideas for Christmas lunch."

"Oh yeah?" Steve half turned to look over his shoulder and Bucky's mouth went dry.

He only had to lean in an inch or two and their lips would meet. Well shit. This was definitely going in the spank bank for ways to instigate fantasy sex… and while pressed up against his wet dream come to life - he needed to tone down the sex thoughts, else Steve was going to get a bruise somewhere in the vicinity of his glutes. Cock sized.

"Err, was thinking of cock."

"Excuse me?" Steve's delighted voice asked.

Really? Brain?

"Spatchcock. Jesus, Steve, cooking spatchcock for entree."

The rumble and movement from Steve's laughter sparking things low in his gut.

Should Bucky bring up what they were doing right now?

Actually, what were they doing?

Steve came back from what appeared to be a rough workout and basically collapsed into Bucky's arms. It was amazing and domestic and everything Bucky wanted from Steve, but why? He didn't have Steve in that capacity, he wasn't sure if he could ever deserve it.

"Nice save, Buck." Steve's smug voice made Bucky turn bright red. "As long you make our traditional pudding, I don't care what we eat. Hey, can you put that renovation show on I like?"

"Sure thing, pal."

Bucky felt for the remote which was on the top of the couch and changed channels as Steve nestled back in, grabbing Bucky's arm to cuddle it against his chest. Steve’s fingers slowly dragged patterns up and down his forearm and Bucky was vibrating out of his skin. He was not okay with this - not at all.

"This okay?" Steve asked.

Not certain his voice wouldn't break halfway through Bucky managed a, "yep."

"Good."

Huh .

Apparently they cuddled now.

"This pudding is my jam!" Sam exclaimed as he shoveled another forkful into his mouth.

Steve looked at Sam, "that sentence does not make sense -"

"- shut up, old man. This is delicious, Buck. How many did you make?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “seven.”

“Really?”

“Too many?”

“Not enough.”

Steve laughed and Bucky tried to not let his eyes linger too long on the blonde. Since the day Steve came home and made Bucky a human blanket on the couch, they had snuggled against each other another two times watching TV. He had no idea how on earth it had happened and why it was happening but he was just going to go with it. The pesky voice which kept telling him to come clean was getting louder - but surely he could pretend for another day or two, at least until Christmas. That was only three days away.

Bucky wondered if he should still go through with his plan that day. It was something he’d organised the week prior, and he knew Steve would enjoy it, would get a laugh at any rate.

“What you doing today man? I’m happy if you just stay here and cook for me.”

“Sam, if you want me to be your personal chef, you can pay me.” Bucky said as he filled the dishwasher up, one of the best inventions he’d ever seen. He realised that he’d really only seen Sam lately if he was cooking, he narrowed his eyes and wondered if he was being used for his sugar induced goodies.

“Really?”

“No, you can’t, he’s mine.” Steve smacked Sam on the back of the head as Bucky tried to not look giddy at the possessiveness in his words. “Plus, Buck’s taking me somewhere today.”

“ Somewhere , that sounds ambiguous?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows, “What nefarious things are you planning for our National Treasure?”

“We are going to throw rocks at the constabulary and sneak into a movie without paying.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I would never…”

“We are, really?” Steve piped up.

“No, Steve.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s a surprise, an early Christmas present.”

Steve smiled softly in return, it really shouldn’t affect Bucky so much, “you know that you don’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, Punk. Just... let me.”

Sam started singing something under his breath which suspiciously sounded like ‘secret lovers’ and Bucky flushed red. He hated Sam sometimes, he was a pain in the ass. There was no way Bucky was making him extra blueberry cheesecake muffins now.

“Here,” he thrust the rest of the massacred pudding Sam had been eating at him, “now scat. I have another four batches of cookies and two puddings before I take Cap out on the town.”

He caught Steve’s eye to find him watching on in indulgence.

“You da best Barnes.” Sam yelled as he ran out with his goodies, clearly worried Bucky was going to change his mind and snatch the baked goods back.  

“What are we really doing today?” Steve asked as he stood up and came around the counter to reach for a glass, splaying his hand across Bucky’s back as he did it. Sucking in a sharp breath, Bucky stared at him for a moment. Steve’s smile grew wider the longer Bucky stared. Jesus, answer.

“Told you, it’s a surprise.” 

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it, two hours enough time?”

“Yep,” Bucky replied, distracted by the flour ratios he was trying to measure. He looked at the scales and felt a small barely there pressure on the back of his head and frowned when Steve left with a small wave, grinning smugly. Bucky spent a second trying to figure out what just happened - because it sure as shit felt like Steve had pressed a kiss to his head.

Two and a half hours later they were jumping off the Subway in a quieter part of Brooklyn and Steve looked at him questioningly. He shrugged with a smile, enjoying the way Steve responded with a tug of a grin and relaxing his shoulders like he was happy to just follow Bucky to the end of the world. If Steve would have him, he would gladly lead.

Bucky stopped them before a door, a long staircase led upstairs behind it and a small sign on the door read, ‘Lyndas Dance Studio’. Steve actually hiccuped in a laugh.

“Aww, you taking me out to dance, Buck?”

“Don’t be an idiot - you have to learn how to dance before I can do that.” He snarked back and received a hit to his shoulder for his trouble.

“Smart ass, okay - lead the way.”

Glad that Steve didn’t seem perturbed with the turn of events, Bucky lead them up the stairs. As they reached the main room, he saw mirrors covered the two far ends and floor to ceiling windows overlooked the street below. There were about twelve people milling about chatting to each other waiting for Lynda Bucky supposed.

He’d paid for Steve to learn the basics of swing dancing and Lynda had assured him there were always people to partner with. He couldn’t wait to see Steve try, he’d always had two left feet back before the war, and Bucky was either going to laugh himself silly or be impressed. He had no idea which one he hoped for more.

The median age of the other people in the class seemed to be bordering on about fifty and he couldn’t express how glad he was that some young lady (or man) wasn’t going to be stealing Steve away for the next couple of hours.

A blonde woman of about forty, dressed to the nines in a flowing skirt strode in and Bucky knew immediately this was Lynda. She looked fabulous.

“Right, afternoon all. Good to see some familiar faces,” her eyes swung to them standing slightly to the side of the room, “and some very welcome new ones.”

She made her rounds talking to the others before coming up to them. “Hello, I’m Lynda, so glad you could make it today. But, sorry boys, my usual plus one couldn’t make it, so we are one dancer short. Bucky was it?”

Bucky knew he looked like a deer caught in headlights, and at Steve’s sharp, ‘you were going to make me do this alone’, he shook his head.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Perfect, you can partner instead.”

“I guess I can. But…” he gestured at Steve.

“Oh lord, you’re not worried about partnering up with your man are you?”

Steve gave him a look at Lynda’s words but neither of them corrected her.

“No, it’s just that I usually lead, wasn’t sure what that would mean with Steve.”

“You’ve danced before? Sorry, swing more specifically?” she asked as she walked over to the turntable to put a bona fide record on. This place was absolutely perfect already.

“Bucky here, is an excellent swing dancer.”

“Steve.” Bucky hissed.

“Brilliant, that’s what I like to hear, maybe you can take me for turn around the floor tonight to show the others.” She eyed Bucky speculatively, “but in the meantime you can let Steve here lead, and you can follow. Sorted.”

There was no room to broker an argument after that, and when he caught Steve’s twinkling teasing blue eyes he whispered, ‘shuddup’.

At some point in Bucky’s previous life, he was a great dancer - had loved the energy it took, swinging your partner across the floor in turns and spins. He’d always had the greatest time, and never went without a partner. This was different on almost every level. The music, familiar, even the steps semi-familiar, but having Steve before him, falling into him, being spun by him and landing in his arms - well that certainly was not familiar. But he really wanted it to be from now on.

He had not laughed so much in recent memory, Steve was terrible still and was only just grasping the basics by the time Lynda had put them through their paces. But he knew with absolute certainty they would be back for more lessons and just that thought created a warm ball of content and happiness in his gut. He had future plans with Steve that didn’t revolve around catching up with everything that had passed them by over the last seventy years. This was theirs, this was their past and somehow felt like the right step towards the future.

“You’re a menace Barnes.”

“Says the man whose flattened my feet more than twenty times tonight.”

“You’re a terrible lady.”

“Well good thing I’m not trying to be one, Champ.”

Steve’s grin blinding as he tipped Bucky back into a dip, ignoring his protest that it was the wrong dance. “I definitely don’t want you to be a dame.”

Before Bucky could form a response, Lynda had interrupted them to steal Bucky for a demonstration. He was left wondering at Steve’s words.

Steve leant up against a wall, soft smile on his lips looking absolutely delighted as Bucky found his feet again and deftly swung Lynda around the floor to the whoops and hollers of the other students. It was exhilarating, it was fluid and as much fun as it was having someone he could let loose with, he really only wanted one person in his arms. He glanced another look at Steve and decided he liked being watched so intently by the man.

The dance came to an end, Lynda’s grin wide and happy, “you really do know how to cut the rug, Steve’s lucky to have you as a partner.”

Bucky flushed at the words, glad Steve didn’t hear else it embarrass him further. She clapped her hands and they all fell in around her, knowing his face was slightly red from her assumptions and the activity. It was a great workout.

“You’ve all done a brilliant job tonight, especially our newbies, Steve and Bucky, let’s give them a round of applause.”

They both grinned sheepishly and Steve laughed as Bucky gave a little bow.

“Okay, time to warm down. Grab your partner and we’ll just do a lazy slow dance, it’s Stellas turn to pick the song tonight - so enjoy.”

Steve looked over at him and held out his hand, waiting. Bucky almost confessed his love right in that moment. The sun was shining in through the window, Steve’s blonde hair haloed in gold and a wicked smile graced his face as he raised an eyebrow waiting for Bucky to take his hand.

Bucky grasped it as the strains of Billie Holiday filled the room, and Steve pulled him close and they began to sway. He’d never in his entire existence wanted something as real as that moment ever again.

The way your smile just beams

The way you sing off key

The way you haunt my dreams

No, no they can’t take that away from me

Steve hummed along to the words, his cheek softly pressed against Bucky’s, and he couldn’t help but notice how well the song suited them. No matter what they’d endured, no matter how many years passed between them separated, the memories had always been there, always underneath. He would never forget again.

The two of them slow danced across the floor and although there were another eight couples in the studio, they may as well have been alone. 

“Why on Earth do we have to have a Christmas Eve lunch, then a Christmas Day lunch, then a boxing day lunch with everyone?” Bucky complained to Steve as they made their way up to the Avengers dining hall, trays of food precariously balanced between them. Bucky may have been stress baking after their dance lesson. 

“It’s Tony.”

“That’s all - it’s Tony, so we have to?” Steve gave Bucky a wry look and he huffed out a breath. “Yeah, ok - it’s Tony, so sure. But I don’t have to like it.”

“Come on Buck - it’s Christmas. The others all want to spend time with you as well.”

Bucky grumbled that he wasn’t a people person, but also really did want to spend the holidays with his so called family. But he couldn’t just up and say that - he had a reputation to uphold.

“Next year I’m thinking Christmas in Vermont.”

Steve grinned over his shoulder as he got into the lift, “is this because we watched White Christmas last night? But sure, wherever you want to go, we can.”

Ducking his head, he hoped Steve didn’t see his reaction at the words, at the matter of fact way Steve assumed they would be together. It was damn nice. Maybe, just maybe Bucky did deserve to look forward to a future - perhaps even with one Steven Grant Rogers.

Pepper had outdone herself, because there was no way Tony organised the decorations, although Bucky amended his thoughts when he saw Dum-E hanging tinsel in the corner, maybe they’d had a little extra help.

The entire floor festivity magical, there was no other way to put it, lights, baubles, presents and a mammoth tree stood at one end, while large television screens littered about the space showed Christmas scenes around the world - everything from snow in Lapland to the sunny beaches of Australia (which, a hot Christmas… that had to be weird right?)

Most of the guests had already arrived, drinking eggnog and catching up. Laughter, chatting and the soft strains of Christmas music filled the space, and Bucky had to reassess his initial annoyance - this was actually pretty amazing. Although they always had a gathering every year, this year he was in a good place, his head was clearer, he was able to look around and feel happiness at seeing these people without the usual tinge of regret and fear which he hung so tightly to. It was a heady, addictive feeling. And it was all due to the man beside him.

Steve placed the food on a table and Bucky followed suit. They only brought up a few presents for the people who couldn’t make it the following day. People like Scott, Hope and Cassie who would spend it with their extended family (and the pet ant he was still wary of), Thor was heading with Jane to a tropical island escape and Bucky was happy to note that Darcy was spending the entire time at the Tower. He loved her sharp wit and sarcasm - it spoke to him on every level, even if he wasn't generally forthcoming with responses. He had a feeling they might be forced to separate at some point as he felt ready to participate this year - maybe.

Lunch was a grand affair, more food than he thought possible laid out, and he noticed Sam sneaking the desserts he’d made, even threat of dismemberment went ignored.

Steve was beside him at the dining table and as the dishes were cleared and everyone sat around with a cleansing tea or coffee, he noticed Steve’s chair slide a little closer to his, before a large arm casually rested on top across the back of Bucky’s chair. Bucky’s stomach turned over, he was sitting forward talking to Pepper, but if he leant back, it would almost be cuddling - in front of the team. He did not know what to do.

Before he had to worry about swallowing his tongue in nerves, Sam spoke up distracting him.

“Okay, so what is everyone's Christmas wish this year. I'm in a sharing mood.”

“It’s not thanksgiving you know.” Bruce piped up.

“I know, man, I know - just thought it might be nice. You know - it’s been a big year, lots of fights, lots of bad things happening in the world - thought it might be nice to share what we’d like more so than what we are thankful for.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Pepper said, completely oblivious to the fact Bucky’s stomach had voluntarily left his body. 

“Clearly my wish has already come true,” Tony started, seeing a soft look from Pepper. “To be the best Avenger - absolutely no competition around here, it's pitiful.”

Pepper smacked him across the chest eliciting a wounded ‘what?' from Tony.

Bucky was on the edge of his seat, already looking at all the exits - figuring which way out the quickest.

“I’m wishing for Dad and Hope to finally kiss,” Cassie piped up, Bucky almost felt sorry for Scott as he looked at Hope red faced, the smile she gave Scott probably meant the kiss was coming, and sooner than he was expecting.

“Thanks kiddo,” Scott murmured.

“Steve, what was your Christmas wish?” Sam asked across the table and Bucky was up and out of his chair before another thought managed to make it through his mind.

Everyone looked at his jerky movement, knowing he looked hunted. “Uh, I forgot to… I have things in the oven for tomorrow - uh, the fridge I mean, that have to go in the oven. Err - I’ll be back. Later… maybe...”

He could not get out of the room quick enough. What the hell was Sam doing asking that - what if Steve told everyone he was looking for love, for companionship? Tony would have a field day. Most importantly, Bucky did not need to hear how Steve wanted to find somebody - somebody else.

Flopping dramatically on what he now called their ‘cuddle’ couch, Bucky groaned at how ridiculous he must have looked. Sam was a bona fide chump.

Unsurprisingly it was only fifteen minutes later when a soft voice called his name from the front door and Steve carefully came towards the couch, hands raised like Bucky was a skittish animal. Smiling wryly, he watched as Steve sat on the other end of the couch, he pinched away the disappointment he wasn’t within reaching distance. 

“You ok?”

“Yep,” he replied quickly.

“You left pretty suddenly, pal.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Bucky wasn’t certain what he should say exactly in return.

“Too many people, too much chatter - I just needed space.” 

It wasn’t an all-out lie, but it felt enough of one that Steve would be disappointed in him if he knew.

“I get it.” Steve replied carefully, “can I stay? For a bit?”

Huffing out a laugh, he gestured to their TV, “sure, was just going to watch a movie or something. But I don’t want to take you away from everyone - it’s your Christmas too and you should spend time with those you love.”

Steve caught his eye and gave a soft yet almost exasperated look, confusing Bucky. The quiet, ‘you really don’t have a clue’ almost lost in the opening themes of a movie called Elf. Bucky frowned as he looked back to the screen, wondering what Steve meant by that.

Before he lost himself to his thoughts, a head landed in his lap making him jump, having no clue Steve had moved so close.

“I ate too much,” Steve complained as he wriggled his head to find a soft spot on Bucky’s thigh. Bucky meanwhile tried to calm his thumping heartbeat as he gazed down at Steve’s profile. The gorgeous man had no idea of the turmoil filling him with the ease he fell into his space and the ease of Bucky’s own acceptance of it. Long gone was the instinct to flinch away.

Bucky found his hand smoothing Steve’s hair down and when the blonde murmured his consent and happiness at the touch, he began to thread his fingers through the strands. Every so often he’d scritch at Steve’s skull and the small moan he’d let loose rocketed down Bucky’s spine, curling inwards and exploding in heat low in his belly. He had to be careful, he was treading on dangerous ground. Especially as he was feeling emotionally compromised the last few days… weeks. Touching Steve made it all that more apparent.

Bucky wondered if Steve had any inkling on why he’d disappeared so quickly from the group lunch. Sam and his stupid question was something he couldn’t stop thinking about, yet also what Steve would have responded with weighed heavily on his mind.

What would he have said in front of all of those people? Would he have admitted the truth? Why couldn’t Bucky find the guts to hear Steve’s wish direct from his mouth? And more importantly - why did he run and hide like a naughty child?

Thoughts continued to bounce erratically in his head, reliving Sam and Steve’s original conversation as he hid in the pantry like a stalker. And as the familiar Christmas song, ‘baby it’s cold outside’ burst through the TV speakers, Bucky found he was unable to contain himself any longer.

“What is your Christmas wish, Stevie?” he blurted then immediately regretted it. What in hell was he thinking?

Steve curled around so he looked up at Bucky, who in turn watched the TV screen unwavering until he realised his friend hadn’t responded. He chanced a glance down, and the bashful smile Steve gave him made his breath catch. He was too pretty, just too much - it was like looking into the sun.

After a moment when neither of them had still spoken, Steve sat up, leaving Bucky’s lap cool after the heat of his body. Bucky reluctantly let him go, but the blonde didn’t move too far away. Bucky was certain his lungs were giving up on him, as he couldn’t get a deep enough breath for his body to function; and instead of going into self-preservation mode, he sat in rapt attention as Steve glanced down at his clasped hands, then looked back up at Bucky, capturing his eyes.

“You know what? Forget mine. I want to know what your wish is Buck."

He stilled like a frightened rabbit, "that's not… that’s really not important…"

Steve cursed, "bullshit, you’ve given up so much over the years, gone through so much, become a new person without losing the heart of yourself. You’re a damn miracle, that’s what you are." Steve stopped to run a ragged hand through his hair, Bucky couldn't look away. "You're an inspiration and I’m the luckiest man in the world to share time with you. So I’m asking again - what’s your Christmas wish?"

Bucky, stunned at the rambling confession, could do no more than stare into earnest blue eyes which peered at him intensely. He gulped before responding, stomach in his throat. 

"This," Bucky fumbled forward grabbing Steve's collar and pushed his mouth against his.

He felt the blonde stiffen in shock, and worried a moment he’d end up with a black eye for his trouble, but then Steve’s massive shoulders relaxed and with a sigh he opened into the kiss. A light went on in Bucky’s brain, flashes of light bursting into sparks of neon colours proclaiming Steve as ‘his’.

Every nerve ending in his body was on fire, his mouth tingled where it met Steve's, he was sinking fast into the sensations, the chapped yet soft lips eliciting shivers throughout him. Steve, like everything else he put his mind to, kissed like he lived - reckless and with abandon. Bucky was dead, dying - in ecstasy. 

He knew if he was standing, his knees would have buckled and suddenly he couldn’t handle it, he needed grounding, his hand reached out blindly and found the back of Steve's neck, pulling him in closer. The responding growl twisted his insides in naked want.

Coherency fled as Bucky deepened the kiss, tongue flicking against the seam of Steve’s mouth for access. The needy moan deep from Steve's throat, sending bolts of desire down his spine. God , kissing Steve was an experience not unlike electrocution, something he knew intimately.

“Christ, Buck…” Steve ground out, breathing heavily as he barely pulled away, eyes hooded, “I… I just never thought…”

Fuck . As Steve trailed off, Bucky’s eyes honed in on his lips which were red and swollen. He’d done that, and felt a swell of pride at messing up the indomitable Steve Rogers. Bucky wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him from now on, but he had to tell Steve the truth - then Steve leaned back in and oh...

Kissing Steve was now officially going to be part of his government sanctioned recovery plan. He couldn’t comprehend that he was being kissed back - with fervour. 

“So…” Steve said, pulling away once more, blue eyes twinkling, “This is your wish - a Christmas kiss?”

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and quirked an eyebrow. "Steve, you're a tactical genius, the smartest man I know." He paused, watching the way Steve listened enraptured, "you're also the most stubborn bullheaded and observant person in existence. You know exactly what I meant."

The smirk started small as Steve kissed his nose, he was not charmed in the slightest, definitely not giddy at the way it felt so natural, "I'd still like to hear you say it."

His mouth opened and closed a moment, all the previous bravado leaving him in the face of this truth. What if Steve didn't want more than this. What if Steve... came closer?

Suddenly fingers tangled in his, a thumb rubbing his palm, softly.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked.

Bucky managed a nod. Hell , he’d just had the man’s tongue in his mouth a minute ago and now he was asking if holding his hand was okay. Sometimes Bucky had no idea where Steve’s sense of propriety came from.

Still holding his eye, Steve slowly raised Bucky’s hand, brushing his lips across the knuckles and the stomach dropped out of him as Steve didn’t let his eyes wander a second. How was that so erotic, how on earth did that have a direct line to his dick?

Bucky's face flushed as a high pitched noise escaped his throat instead of words, and Steve beamed.

Did that mean…?

Would Steve want...?

He couldn't think straight, he was flustered, his entire being confused and elated and possibly going into heart failure.

But he still had to tell Steve the truth, even though words were difficult and he was wary about Steve’s reaction. Would he suddenly think Bucky hadn’t meant everything, that it was some kind of game to him? It wasn’t, christ , it was anything but a game. Bucky was all in, until the end. 

He leant forward and grabbed Steve by the collar of his shirt and tugged him until their foreheads pressed against the other. Blue eyes wide with joy met his, and as Steve leaned in again, Bucky held his hand up against his chest to stop him.

“Shit, I - er, I have to tell you something.”

“Now?” Steve asked incredulously.

“Something important.” He said firmly.

“Okay, sure, Buck anything you need.”

Steve sat back, letting a hand drop to his lap, the other still held Bucky’s like a lifeline. It was nice, comforting, something Bucky had been craving for the longest time.

“I, err, look - I overheard you and Sam.”

“What?” Steve asked in puzzlement.

Bucky ducked his head and ran a hand over his face, knowing his nerves were getting the better of him. Why couldn’t Steve read between the lines and just know what he was trying to say. Was he being obtuse for the sake of it?

“In the kitchen that day, I overheard you both.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, “What day? What did you overhear?”

“Last month… and I , well, I heard your Christmas wish.”

Steve eyed him speculatively, “Okay… I’m confused - what exactly did you hear that day?”

“Look, I took liberties with it, I’m not proud of what I did,  but I don’t regret a thing.” At Steve’s worried look he barrelled on. “I heard that you wanted to go on dates, have long conversations and… get hugs… to connect with someone.”

The laugh from Steve unexpected and Bucky tried to pull his hand free, but Steve was not having any of it. He should have given over his metal hand, even Rogers couldn’t stop him taking that one back.

“With you.” Steve finally said quietly.

“What?”

“Not with someone , but with you. I’m guessing you didn’t stick around to hear that part?”

“Ohhh.” Bucky’s thoughts faltered. “But, Steve, I lied, I overheard something private and used it, that’s not right. That’s not something a true friend would do.”

"Such a martyr.” Steve shook his head fondly and Bucky was pleased to note he wasn’t scowling, “so what you're trying to say, badly - I might add, is because you overheard a conversation, you decided to change, to leave behind the conditioning familiar to you, just to start to open up - all for me?"

Bucky nodded slowly and watched as Steve's face transformed from questioning into something wondrous.

"And not only that, but you put aside your own discomfort, your own issues with touch and conversing with others, all to ensure that you could give me what I wished for? As a Christmas gift?"

His face was blazing with heat, "well, when you put it like that, it really sounds stupid."

'Not stupid, not at all."

Steve leant over and used his fingers to tilt Bucky's chin up so their eyes met again, the look in Steve's confronting but in a way which stole Bucky's breath.

"So you're not angry?" He hedged.

"Jesus Bucky, why in hell would I be… no, I'm not angry at you, if I'm angry with anyone it's myself."

"Why on earth would you be?"

"Because I could've said something years ago. Had this years ago."

"Years?" Bucky breathed and moved closer, hands trembling with the need to touch Steve again.

"Years, pal, more years than I can remember."

Suddenly the fact Bucky could have this - could want this, flew through him. Well hell.

"Can I kiss you again now?" He asked breathlessly.

"If you don't soon, I'll turn into an old man."

"Punk." Bucky smiled, as he leaned in.

“So you and Steve, hey?” Natasha stage whispered in the kitchen as Bucky pulled out one of the trays of oven roasted vegetables which complimented the five roasts he’d cooked for Christmas dinner (and one vegetarian roast for Wanda).

Clint poked his head through the waiters nook, “Steve and he what?”

“Nat." Bucky warned as he gestured for her to keep stirring the pan gravy, a task she was surprisingly bad at for someone usually so competent.

"What about Steve and Buck?" Clint whined. "Are they finally getting a cat?"

Bucky gave Clint a patented 'Bucky's not taking your shit' look and Clint busied himself grabbing trays of food to take to the table. 

A pet? He'd never thought about it before. Maybe a cat wasn't a terrible idea. Steve would spoil it to within an inch of its life, which was reason enough to look into it. He added it to the mental list of things to discuss with Steve.

"Yes, Steve and I." He finally said to Natasha, "jeez, give me the fork, how can you be so awful at stirring - seriously?"

As he snatched the utensil in mock anger, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze, he flushed.

"I'm glad."

"Well it's new, brand new. I don't want to jinx it, so don't tell anyone." He said gruffly. "Especially Tony. God, I'll take out a page advert in The Times before admitting this to him in person."

"James..." 

He glanced up at the softness in her tone.

"There is no way on earth, actually in space, on any other worlds where you could jinx this. You guys are the real deal. The forever kind."

He now found himself being a tardy stirrer, but he grabbed her in an unusual display of physicality and brought her in for a one armed hug; letting go after a second because they were both scary unfeeling operatives, and his gravy was lumpy again.

"Thanks." He said.

As Natasha grabbed another tray of food to take out, since Clint seemed to have vanished, she paused and looked over her shoulder.

"Um, just saying - you should let your boy know that you want this kept under wraps."

He raised a brow at her, "huh?"

"He's staring at you like you not only hung the moon, but also put all the stars in the galaxy. He’s practically vibrating in his chair everytime he looks at you. I'm pretty sure by the end of dinner, the whole team will know. It's nauseating."

He threw a tea towel at her back as she laughed and slinked out the door. Natasha was a much better server than sous chef.

Bucky bit his lip, did he care if others knew? Of course not - but he wanted this bubble of their discovery from the last 24 hours to last as long as possible. It was thrilling to wake up beside Steve that morning, kissing him into consciousness, being able to have that. He also liked that there was no external pressure from anyone, no-one knew, except Natasha - it was kind of neat.

He'd never in his life experienced as much making-out or cuddling as he'd had the past day, and began to worry his lips would rub raw, but in the most wonderful way possible. He also couldn't have imagined his dick could stay hard for practically a day straight and not begin to hurt, but apparently the serum could do a lot he’d never tested. But as much as he wanted, no , desired to take the next steps in their... what - relationship? Christ it was new, he wasn't sure if they should take the next big step - not yet. It was mind-altering to have the closeness, the possibility, the anticipation of more. Steve didn't appear to be in any rush (so far), but he would as usual, take his queues from Bucky.

His thoughts were interrupted by the bubbling mess before him and once he’d managed to salvage the gravy he poured it into the boat and joined the rest of the team.

Sam eyed the container he held with excitement until he realised it was only gravy. Bucky gave him less than three seconds, and when Sam tried a little, the container was sequestered to his side of the table. Biting back a grin, he settled beside Steve, quickly pressing their thighs against the other under the table. The small bump and large hand squeezing his leg in return comfortable - right.

Steve spared him a glance, and when he saw that Bucky was more than okay with it, the hand didn’t leave Bucky’s leg until it was time to eat. It wasn't distracting at all...

“What, no spatchcock?” Steve queried quietly as he piled meat onto his plate.

Bucky choked on his bread, “you smart ass.”

“I’m disappointed, I was promised spatch- ”

“- please don’t say that word again.” Bucky hissed under his breath.

“What? Spatch?” 

Bucky groaned and watched as Steve’s grin widened, a twinkle in his eye which held a fond teasing note. 

Steve leaned over and rumbled, “cock…” lips touching the shell of his ear for a second, and Bucky was hard as nails within a second.

God damn it , Steve was the biggest shit in the world, and suddenly Bucky went from his uncertainty of taking their physical relationship further, to desperately needing to. Judging by the heat smoldering behind the gaze Steve gave him, he wasn’t the only one thinking it. Suddenly dinner was stifling, drawing out too long - and they hadn’t even served dessert yet.

Every moment from that point, took on a whole new level of self control. Bucky had learned over many, many years to disregard his wants - his needs, but suddenly he was wound tighter than a spring coil ready to snap at a moments notice. And it was all Steve’s fault.

Steve was attentive to the letter, although not enough that could be misconstrued by the others. But where people couldn’t see, under the table - that was a battle ground. A battle for Bucky to keep Steve’s hands to himself, less he embarrass himself by flipping the chairs and having his way with him in front of their friends.

“Are you both coming to Tony’s New Years Eve costume party?”

Bucky shoved Steve’s hand off his lap (thankfully he hadn’t managed to cop a proper feel, but it was close) and looked at Pepper.

“Steve will, fairly certain he’s obligated as an Avenger, but I’m not sure -”

“- we’ll be there.” Steve interrupted with a smile and a graze of fingers up his inner thigh.

“Really?” Bucky asked sarcastically, desperately trying to ignore the questing fingers, “and what if I don’t want to go?”

“I’ll go with you, Steve.” Sam proclaimed over the table, an unnoticed smear of gravy on his chin.

“You’re invited anyway, Sam.”

He shrugged and scowled at Natasha when she threw a serviette at his face in disgust.

“I have to take Buck.” Steve was adamant and Bucky felt a tingle of nerves flow through him. Stubborn Steve usually meant trouble.

“Why’s that?” Tony asked. “Have you got matching costumes? I heard there is a great deal on Iron Man and War Machine costumes. If that fails, maybe Rainbow Brite and Twink...”

Bucky spat out his water, the fuck did Tony just say? But before he could protest and ask the meaning, because no way was there an actual character called Twink, Steve spoke.

“Well, he's my best guy, after all - and I’m not spending new years without my midnight kiss.” Then the big buffoon leant over and kissed the corner of his mouth.

The entire table erupted with a roar and Natasha caught his eye in the midst and smirked while Bucky hung his head into his hands and sighed deeply.

Steve was an impulsive child, but, damn , Bucky loved him.

Bucky prepared hot chocolates with extra marshmallows then joined Steve who sat on the floor next to their Christmas tree. The tree lights twinkled in erratic patterns, casting shadows in the far reaches of the room, but lit Steve up like his very own Christmas gift. Shit, this was his life - this was his. He felt giddy.

"You got me something else?" Steve asked as he eyed the small package with his name on it. "The dance lessons were more than enough, especially as I got to press you against me for a couple of hours. Which was definitely the highlight."

Bucky flushed at the memory and pushed the little wrapped gift towards Steve.

"So you're saying I can't spoil you?"

Steve averted his eyes as he grabbed a parcel for Bucky and finally meet his gaze. "Well, yeah, there's nothing more than I'd like. But -"

" - but nothing. I can, so I will."

Reaching over, Steve grasped the back of Bucky's head and pulled him into a sweet short kiss. Smiling he leant back and Bucky noticed the colour high in his cheeks. They were both so new to this, it was astonishing being free to take what they wanted, when they wanted.

Bucky unwrapped his gift and looked up in question. He held a Count Basie record.

"Steve?"

"Uh, well, I may have got you something a little more than what we agreed upon." He gestured to a large package hidden partially by the tree and Bucky huffed an annoyed breath, but looked on curiously, having an inkling on what Steve had done.

Crawling over, he unwrapped the parcel to find a record player inside with more records and spun with accusation, "it's too much."

"Well, yeah, maybe? But it's for us - we can keep up with our dance lessons in between times. You don't like it?"

"I love it, Stevie." Bucky said as he cupped Steve's face between his hands, one flesh, one metal, a part of who he used to be and who he was now. Then he leaned in, heart bursting in happiness until he carefully pressed his lips against Steve's.

He parted his mouth immediately, welcoming Bucky's kiss, it was bliss, it fried his brain.

The closeness of their bodies comforting, but not at all what he desired. He needed Steve to feel what he held inside, the passion bubbling under his skin, the raw want he'd harboured for years. He'd been gone on Steve Rogers almost his entire life and he planned on ensuring Steve knew just how much needed him - on all levels.

Pulling back, he realised he was losing his head already and the kiss only lasted bare seconds.

"Open yours." He said huskily, sitting back on his knees, mesmerised by how glazed over Steve looked.

Shaking his head a little and giving Bucky a wicked grin, he ripped into the small package then squinted down into his hands for a moment before reading what it was. 

“You’re an idiot,” Steve laughed. “What does it do?”

Bucky smirked, “Well a Tamagotchi is a virtual pet, from what I can gather. So if you look after it well enough, maybe we can upgrade and get a real one?”

“What, a real Tamagotchi?”

“You’re a dork. A real pet, like a cat or something.”

Steve looked down at the device in his hands fiddling with it a little until it beeped and he set up his first pet. Bucky smiled indulgently watching how his large frame hunched over the little screen, trying to figure it out.

“It’s great - stupid, but great.” Steve said as he placed it to the side then reached forward grabbing Bucky’s arm and tugging him until he practically fell into Steve’s lap. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“I’m glad you overheard me that day.” Steve rumbled as he hugged Bucky against him. He felt a little foolish as they were both large men, but he allowed Steve the facade that he was the big spoon. “If you didn’t, I’d hate to think how long it would’ve taken to get here.”

“You think we would have?”

“Absolutely - I would have made a move eventually, but I could never tell with you.”

“Tell what?” Bucky asked curious.

“What you wanted, if you even felt that way inclined, not just about me - but anyone.”

“Always wanted you, feels like that’s my default.”

“Same.” Steve chuckled and kissed his hair, “but, you really blew me away, all of the small changes you made. I was so confused at first, not sure if I should feel elated or upset that you may have found someone else to open up to and I was getting the residual effects. Although, you just about killed me the day you licked the sauce off your finger.”

Bucky laughed, embarrassed at how guileless he was, how completely clueless. “Not going to lie, I wanted to lick it direct from your mouth.”

He felt a shiver run through Steve and smiled, “well, that would have been an experience. But seriously, everything you’ve shown me, everything you’ve given me… I just… thanks.”

“Thanks? That’s it. I broke through decades of conditioning and years of consent issues around touch and all you say is thanks?”

“Fuck, no - not at all I just -”

“- I’m messing with you, champ.”

Steve let out a long exhale, “not funny, Buck.”

“It is to me. It’s all part of my charm and razor sharp wit.”

Steve groaned, “too late to change my mind about this?”

“About seventy years too late.” Bucky retorted then leaned back so he could see Steve’s face, kissing his jaw, enjoying the way Steve sucked in a breath. He was a sensory playground, and Bucky wanted to mark each and every muscle twitch and moan so he knew exactly how to drive him crazy.

The whisper of Steve's breath on his lips when he made it up that far, gentle with desire. Steve waited, leaving the pace to Bucky - which he was grateful for. 

Still able to taste the barest hint of brandy custard and pudding on Steve’s lips was comforting in its familiarity, in such a newly unfamiliar yet very welcome situation.

He shifted in Steve’s lap until he’d climbed onto his knees; mouth never leaving Steve to straddle him, cupping his face once more in his hands, holding Steve still, his prisoner as he rained kisses down on him. From the reaction he received, Steve was onboard, muscled arms encircling Bucky’s waist and pulling him tight against him.

Bucky placed his metal hand over Steve’s hip and a responding sigh brushed his lips as he opened his mouth pressing forward; fingers tightening in the buttondown Steve wore. The sharp gasp from Steve as Bucky’s tongue darted forward sent sparks down his spine, winding through his body slowly, desire filling his core. He was beginning to get concerned he may black out.

Never in memory had he felt so free, so in the moment. The building could collapse around them and he wouldn’t even notice, he was too wrapped up in the tingling sensations racing through his veins, the pure unadulterated want which tugged at his stomach. He was here with Steve, it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t his imagination - it was real.

Opening his mouth further, he pushed against Steve, claiming him so neither could inhale properly, he was so desperate for it he was losing what little self control he still had.

Steve’s hands came up and rested on his hips, before slowly moving up and down his sides in long strokes until Bucky’s shirt rode up and suddenly his entire body shuddered as Steve’s fingers grazed the naked skin of his torso. Well fuck, that was a completely different set of sensations and not at all unwelcome.

Steve pulled back immediately, ceasing all movements and the growl which ripped itself from Bucky’s throat completely primal.

“Too much?” Steve asked breathlessly, lips red and bruised from Bucky’s punishing raw kisses.

“Not enough,” he admitted, and took a long deep breath. He didn’t want to rush this, them. He wanted to savour every second, but the stiffness in his pants was wanting more, much more. And he wasn’t certain about what Steve wanted yet. “But, maybe we should watch a movie or something?”

Steve’s arms tightened around him and he curled Bucky forward so his head was resting on a large shoulder. Their breathing erratic and unstable. Tilting to the side, Bucky sucked a kiss into Steve’s neck, eliciting a toe curling moan from deep within the blonde. 

“Anything that you want. I’m happy to go at your pace.” Steve’s voice husked. He was absolutely too polite and suddenly Bucky wanted to ruffle his cool, calm and collected feathers for once. 

“Oh really?” Bucky teased and dragged his hips down into Steve’s lap - which, holy fuck …

Wide-eyed they stared at each other for the longest moment, until Bucky very deliberately repeated the movement holding Steve’s wrecked gaze. Steve’s head fell back as a groan was torn from his chest, hands grappled for Bucky’s hips again to pull down and suddenly Bucky attacked his neck instinctually with open mouthed kisses, grinding on Steve’s lap for all he was worth.

“Buck… oh God, thats…” Steve whimpered as he scrunched his eyes up in pleasure, it was the hands down sexiest thing Bucky had ever witnessed.

All of a sudden Steve grabbed Bucky around the waist and gently spun him so he was laying on the floor, crowding over him, checking if it was okay with a look. Bucky growled and grabbed Steve’s head down, smashing their lips together hungrily.

The position change, pure bliss. Steve’s hips began to circle as he thrust against Bucky’s hardness, still trapped in his jeans. His brain was now in failsafe mode, he couldn’t think straight, sensations took over and by god could Steve move his hips magically.

Their kisses turned sloppy and uneven as they continued to push and rub against each other with no thought or reason except for chasing the elusive feeling of release. It built up inside of Bucky with every whimper and whispered words of encouragement from Steve. Until they were a sweaty writhing mass of pleasure on the floor.

“Oh, god - Stevie, I’m gonna -”

“- same, let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Steve’s words coupled with a searing kiss and a last long pushing grind, snapped Bucky’s head back and he came in his jeans, twitching uncontrollably. Thoughts flitting from one place to the next as Steve’s lips captured his again possessively, gasping into Bucky’s mouth before he leaned back, his own orgasm tearing through him. Bucky had never seen anything as pure and magnificent as Steven Rogers face twisted in pleasure.

As his breath regained a semblance of normality (not that it ever would again in Steve’s presence) he couldn’t help but look up in absolute adoration.

“Hey, you with me, pal?” Steve queried, leaving a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back further, a hand cupping one side of Bucky’s face in such a tender gesture his heart fluttered.

“I’m here...” he started breathlessly then paused, Steve trailed the other hand over his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear before leaning in to kiss the shell. Bucky shivered. “Just so you know - that was not my intention”

“Oh, so you weren’t planning on helping me soil my best trousers?”

“Idiot. Just - well, that escalated quickly.”

“You didn’t want -”

“ - Oh, hell no. I did. I definitely did.” Bucky interrupted Steve. “I… well, I really wanted to make sure you were okay with it all first. You know?”

“I can absolutely guarantee that I am a hundred percent on board for anything you want to do, to try - hell, happy to give anything a go once.” 

Bucky felt the grin take over his face, and he leaned up to place a quick kiss on his lips, ignoring the gross mess and wetness in his pants for a moment. 

“Anything, hey?”

“Within reason.” Steve shot back with a smirk.

“I can work with that.”

Steve slid to the side, off of Bucky but pulled him in to hold close, another small kiss on his temple filled him with warmth. Steve was clearly tactile after an orgasm, thankfully it seemed he had the same inclination.

They lay in contentment for a few minutes before Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. “Yeah, I was going to try and be all nice and have cuddles, but I can’t - my underwear is awful.”

“Oh, thank god - same.” Steve chuckled as he sat up, hand still on Bucky’s bicep - it was cute how much he didn’t want to let go.

“How about we clean up, I make new hot chocolates, grab the quilt from my bed - then listen to some records?”

Steve nodded, eyes soft and happy. Bucky couldn’t help himself and leaned up to capture Steve’s lips, biting slightly on the bottom lip, harder than before, eliciting a shocked but excited breath at the kiss.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Smiling, Bucky shrugged, “perhaps - but what a way to go.”

“This is way too cliched… I feel ridiculous.” Bucky ground out as another person did a double take at him.

Steve glanced at him fondly.

“I think you look absolutely smashing.”

“Oh god. Have you been watching UKTV again? Smashing? You called me lush the other day…” 

Steve hummed noncommittally with a grin, then leaned forward and Bucky prepared himself for a kiss - which didn't come. Steve halted and stood up straight, looking slightly put off. Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“You haven't kissed me all night. What's going on - you were an octopus in the shower earlier?”

Steve's eyes darkened with pure desire, and why on earth did Bucky bring up their mutual blowjob now? His pants were too fitted to remember in technicolour the way Steve slid to his knees, water cascading over his shoulders and shit - he had to stop the images, he was clearly a masochist.

“I want to, so much. Christ I do, but…” he gestured to Bucky’s costume.

“Are you kidding me? You damn well picked this out!” 

“To be fair, I didn't actually expect you to look so much like him.”

“For the love of God…”

Bucky looked at his boyfriend, partner, lover, his everything and admitted that at least Steve’s costume was pretty awesome. The Iron Man suit tailored to perfection, and even the mask which was currently pushed back on top of Steve’s head, a work of art. He was much broader and taller than Tony, but Bucky couldn't fault how good Steve looked.

The ballroom was full, electric with the sheer volume of people who had gone all out with costumes. Bucky noted quite a few Captain America's and when he'd subtly checked them out, was hit in the chest by Steve - like he was ever going to trade in his Stevie for a fake. A huge proportion of costumes and characters Bucky had no reference for, though he could appreciate how good people looked, but there were a few very obvious ones even he knew. He'd caught Superman and Batman making out near the men's toilet which was an experience. The clever ones like frank and beans, netflix and chill (he got that reference) and two oreo halves when they came together to hug, formed a complete oreo made him laugh and he hoped next year Steve would be up for a pun laden costume. He adored the way he could think 'next year' and know for certainty Steve would be at his side.

"Well, well, who have we got here? Captain Iron Man… Iron Captain… Capron... Hmm, whatever - I like it. Very on trend.”

“Tony.” Steve acknowledged with a nod of his head, “you look very… er, who are you?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “You need to write this in your little, ‘my life is lacking’ book. I'm Gomez Adams of course.”

“Of course…” Steve trailed off then spared a glance at Bucky, who shrugged - he had no idea either; though he vaguely remembered the name and hoped it wasn't a mark from his past.

Suddenly, Tony coughed and choked at the same time when his eyes finally fell on Bucky.

“Oh, my… you look ravishing, gorgeous, I just want to eat you up. Hands down winner of the best costume you handsome devil.”

Bucky rolled his eyes in true Tony fashion, gaining a roaring laugh from Steve.

"You came as me! I don't know whether to be flattered or slightly terrified…”

Bucky inclined his head. Dressing as Tony Stark was Steve's idea, but he admitted he looked a little too much like the billionaire to be completely comfortable. He'd been stuck in conversations all evening with people who clearly had no idea he wasn't Tony and was in costume. Smirking, he hoped Tony enjoyed the meetings he'd set up for him the following week.

“The beard and this moustache thing you have going on, is fucking scratchy,” Bucky stated as he moved his lips around trying to get the little goatee to stop itching, "and this damn tailored suit cost more than sending an army to France. Ridiculous.”

“Small price to pay for looking so damn good, right?”

“Well Tony, we figured your ego is way too big just to dress up as one of your… personalities -”

“- I want you to make out.” Tony interrupted Steve.

“Er, what?” 

“Seriously. Make out. I need to see this, I feel it in my bones that it's going to look epic.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest and waited, eyes flicking between the two in anticipation. It was weird.

“Tony…” Steve said exasperatedly. “I'm not kissing a cosplay of you while cosplaying as you… that's just… I don’t know what it is - a form of self flagellation of the highest order?”

“Oh great, so does that mean I'm not getting a New Year's Eve kiss anyway? You promised - it’s the only reason I’m here.”

Steve frowned at Bucky like he stole Christmas then sighed, “well one kiss isn't going to kill me, but not in front of Tony.”

“Cap, I think a bald eagle just fell out of the sky at you blatant rudeness towards me. I'm not happy with your utter lack of attraction to me. Everyone is attracted to me.”

“Tony.” Pepper appeared at his side, black gown so tight to the feet that Bucky had no idea how she walked. The long dark wig almost made her unrecognisable. He didn’t know who she was dressed as, except she complimented Tony’s costume - but she looked gorgeous. Pepper laughed at Steve’s costume, then gaped when she saw Bucky, immediately laughing and grabbing his bicep.

“Oh, aren't you just gorgeous.” She snuck closer to him and Bucky laughed.

“Hey!” Tony whined.

Bucky played up the situation, slinging and arm over her shoulders and leaning in, "I have a large… car if you want to take a ride some time?”

“Oh my god, you even sounds like him.” Pepper’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “This is brilliant.”

“That's my wife,” Tony exclaimed. “Hands off, Barnes.”

He made a grab at Pepper who tried to hold onto Bucky in jest. This was the best part of his night so far.

“Senator Willis wants a chat,” Pepper took Tony's arm. “We'd best go.”

“I'm watching you two,” Tony said pointing at his eyes then back at them, Bucky grinned and Steve saluted. “Don't do anything I would… wouldn't, ugh you get it.”

They slipped into the bustle of the crowd and Bucky sidled over to Steve and wrapped his arm around his waist, Steve immediately relaxed into it.

“Want to head out to the balcony - countdowns in about twenty minutes?”

“Sure,” Steve replied.

It was cold out, but between the super serum and the large heater lamps dotted outside it was fine, it was also crowded - but not as bad as inside. Bucky felt himself being able to finally breathe properly.

“Sorry,” Steve began.

“About?”

“I know it’s difficult, all those bodies inside. You’re doing great, just thought you should know that I’m proud of how far you’ve come.”

“Well, if you weren’t by my side in all of this, I wouldn’t be here. But I’m glad. That you’re here and by my side.”

Steve’s eyes softened as he grabbed a couple of Champagnes from a waiter. The alcohol didn’t do anything for them, but Bucky liked the taste and the bubbles made Steve giggle.

They found Natasha, Sam and Clint near the rail and joined them. Natasha and Clint were dresses identically down to the same coloured wigs, Natasha had a sign around her neck saying ‘#Filter’ and Clint had one saying ‘#NoFilter’ they looked amazing. Sam meanwhile was dressed as ‘Sam The Eagle’ from something called the Muppets, apparently he grew up loving this puppet because not only did they share a name, but he was able to fly as well (in a pretend way obviously).

“Seriously, I saw The Chef from the Muppets before - Imma introduce myself later. Great photo op.” Sam was more than a little tipsy, but it still made Bucky want to write The Muppets in Steve’s little book. They sounded fun.

“So we have ten minutes everyone - what’s your new years wish?” Sam slurred.

“Enough, Sam. No more wish lists.” Bucky laughed.

“Aw come on, it got you two together.”

“There you go - you’ve got a perfect strike rate - lets not mess with it.”

“Huh, when you put it that way… I like a perfect score.”

Sam grinned and Bucky grinned back.

“So… did you make me a New Years Eve pudding?”

“Really?”

“I’m withering away with no sustenance over here.” Sam pouted.

“You ate two batches of cookies yesterday and five muffins.”

“And…”

“And… you’re unbelievable.” Bucky finished.

“So I’ve been told.”

The countdown began and Steve’s hand found Bucky’s, pulling him to his side. The entire balcony screamed out from ten to one and as the fireworks and jubilation began, Steve turned and tilted Bucky’s chin up with his finger.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. Happy new years.”

He then kissed Bucky so he felt it deep in his bones, the warmth spread into every space of his body, filling him with love and joy and a feeling of contentment. Butterflies took flight throughout his stomach at Steve’s soft and heartfelt words and nothing on the planet could wipe the goofy expression on his face off. Not one thing. 

Leaning back when they were jostled by the others, Bucky stared directly into Steve’s bright blue eyes seeing the adoration mirrored in them.

“Love you too, Stevie. Happy new year.” He managed to get out, chest tight with unsaid emotions. He was turning into a sap, and honestly, it was pretty nice - especially when Steve’s blinding grin was the outcome.

There was no way the holiday season could have turned out more perfect than it already had.

Suddenly they were caught up in hugs and kisses from the others as Tony and Pepper barreled down on them too. Bucky’s heart was fit to burst. He had friends, a life and most importantly he had Steve by his side. 

They were exactly where they belonged. Together.