On the ??? Days of Christmas 2023

"Okay, the boys have gotta be asleep by now." Sam said from the recliner.

“Alright. Buck, can you and Y/n make sure there’s room under the tree?" Bucky, your best friend, nodded beside you. Sam and Sarah both stood, walking off to grab the presents that were 'from Santa'.

You stood, walking to the Christmas tree and rearranging the presents already under it. With Bucky helping, it took less than a minute.

“You should ask her out.” You mumbled to him.

“Shut up.” He hissed back, his cheeks turning a faint pink.

“Are you seriously blushing?”

“It’s just cold.” He huffed.

“Right. It’s cold, in a living room of a house, with a fireplace in it that’s currently lit, and you’re also bundled up in a sweater, and it’s so cold your cheeks are pink. Riiight.”

“Hush! Sam would kill me.” He muttered.

“Nah. He’s mostly joking. He just wants her to be happy, I can tell.”

Bucky said nothing at that.

Sarah came in with her arms full of Christmas presents, and you and Bucky helped her arrange them under the tree. Sam came in with his own haul, and you helped arrange those too.

Bucky nudged your shoulder, giving you a small smirk. With his eyes, he silently mocked you. Look at those strong arms.

“Anybody want a glass of wine?” Sarah asked once you finished.

"I'll have one," Sam said, messing with a section of the tree.

"Don't mess with that, you'll topple the whole damn thing over. Again." Sarah sighed.

“Again?” Bucky looked to Sam.

“I was seven.” Sam rolls his eyes, huffing.

Bucky stands, mumbling something to himself about helping with the glasses or whatever. He stands, walking past your totally obvious crush.

Sarah stops in the doorway, spinning around to seemingly ask the group something, but she ends up with her forehead slammed into Bucky’s chest.

“Fuck—sorry.” He apologizes, stabling her with his arms on her biceps.

“S’okay.” She stared up into his eyes, and you giggled at the literal blush that appeared on his cheeks.

“Steve’s was worse.” Sam muttered into your ear.

You snickered, staring above their heads. There, hung from the doorframe, was a string of mistletoe.

Sam’s face was annoyed, but you could tell that deep down he just wanted to see his sister happy. Even if that meant happy with his annoying new best pal.

“That’s—you don’t have to—it’s a stupid tradition, really—“ Bucky sputtered out, but Sarah put her finger to his lips, smiling. She silently asked for permission, knowing Bucky’s boundaries and how much physical touch truly means to him.

He gave a slight nod, and they kissed quietly.

“Eeew.” Sam groaned, but you lightly smacked his arm.

You took a few steps backward, leaning against a doorframe as you looked around the room. Green garland with rainbow Christmas lights wrapped around the crown moulding of the living room. The Christmas tree had matching lights, decorated with ornaments of all shapes and sizes. Some handcrafted from popsicle sticks and paint, no doubt from a preschool project from one of the boys.

Other ornaments were circular and decorative. One of Sarah’s favorites—a favorite that was not made by one of her sons, she’d clarified—was a deep red, with two swirls of silver glitter wrapping around the sphere.

Sam took a few steps back with you, not wanting to stand alone in the middle of the room. The two of you giggled and snickered at the spectacle going on, before Sarah sent you both a sharp glare as Bucky turned his head to look away, embarrassed.

Look what you did, her eyes seemed to say.

Sam rolled his eyes, turning to walk through the door. He bumped right into you, and then, for several moments, you were chest-to-chest with the guy you’d been crushing on for months now.

You let out an awkward chuckle, looking everywhere but at him. A glimpse over his shoulder showed both Bucky and Sarah grinning evilly at the two of you, and you stared at them in confusion.

“What…” Your eyes drifted upward, to spot what they had been laughing at. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

“What?” Sam’s eyes followed your gaze, and he saw it too. You glanced back down to Sarah and Bucky, but they were nowhere to be found.

“We don’t have to—“ You began to assure him, but he lightly took your chin in his hand, pressing his lips to yours.

He pulled away after a second, smiling softly. “Can’t break the tradition.”

You blinked up at him.

“I’ve..wanted to do that for a while. If I’ve made you uncomfortable—“

“Kiss me.” You whispered.

“What?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, craning your neck to press your lips to his once again. He held his large hands on your waist, before wrapping his whole arms around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could.

“I like you. A lot. If..if it wasn’t clear.” You whispered against his lips.

“Yeah, I think I noticed.” He chuckled, before kissing you.

You glanced at his watch. “Merry Christmas, Sam.”

He kissed you again in response.

Merry Christmas indeed.