Steve and Bucky
Bucky always spends the night at Steve's house on Christmas. He doesn't celebrate the winter holiday, but he'll take any chance to spend time with Steve. They're basically inseparable, and holidays are no different.
Steve is always welcome to Hannukah with the Barnes family, and Bucky stays with Steve for Christmas.
And he doesn't want Steve to be alone on such an important day. Most years, Sarah works on Christmas Eve. Especially now that Steve is older, the restaurant has her do holiday shifts. They're short-staffed, and an eighteen-year-old probably doesn't want his mom hanging around. Steve refuses to admit it bothers him, but Bucky reads him like a kiddie book. It does.
"Merry Christmas, Stevie," Bucky says as soon as his boyfriend opens the door. The gifts for Steve, Sarah, and Colonel pile up in his arms. Various toys and crunchy bits, same as last year. That golden retriever is quite spoiled, and he's lucky he's cute.
Steve glances down the apartment hallway before letting Bucky inside. Neighbours talk, and people judge. He doesn't care what they say about him, but he dares anyone say something about his mom—lamenting how tragic it is that such a handsome young man ended up queer. Poor Sarah Rogers, she's the one with a fairy for a son.
Steve came out when he was 14. Just entering his first year of high school, he sat Sarah down and confessed his biggest shame. He cried with hot tears rolling down his cheeks, refusing to make eye contact with her.
Sarah immediately jumped up to comfort him, unwilling to see Stevie in distress. Always such a pure soul, never wanting to hurt her and aiming to please constantly. She dried his face and kissed him on the forehead, pushing as much love into the gesture as possible.
Your dad would be proud of your bravery.
Steve hopes so.
Once safely inside, Steve takes the load from Bucky's grasp and sets it on the dining room table. He falls into the brunette's waiting embrace.
"Hey doll face, what're you lookin' so sweet for?" Bucky tugs on Steve's pyjama top. He's wearing a flannel top and pants printed with penguins and seals. The animals all have some form of festive clothing, be it scarves or gloves or hats with little bobbles. Frankly, they're utterly ridiculous looking.
"I have a set for you too," Steve confesses into Bucky's shoulder.
"Hand 'em over."
Bucky slips his matching set on, and the boys begin their tradition. Steve boils milk for hot cocoa, and Bucky sets to whipping up some pancakes. While not the most festive food, they're the only thing Bucky can make without looking at a recipe. He used to make pancakes every Saturday with Winnifred and could whip some up while blindfolded. Now he usually works every Saturday, but Becca upholds the tradition. Maybe one day, she'll make heart-shaped pancakes for her betrothed.
Not any day soon, though. She thinks boys are stupid. Well, so does Bucky, but he's grown quite fond of this little blond minx from Brooklyn…
"It's strange to think we're eighteen and nineteen and already acting like an old married couple," Steve adds the powder and stirs, "Shouldn't we be out partying and drinking?"
Bucky slides the first pancake onto a plate.
"Hmm, I don't think so. I think we're on the right path. Sappy shit 'n' all." Bucky shrugs and tips his head.
"Agreed. No place I'd rather be than with my best guy." Steve puts his arm around Bucky's hips and pulls him close to kiss him on the cheek.
The ring box burns a hole in Bucky's pocket.
He smirks and turns his head to meet their lips.
"Hey, can I ask you something?"