sing a chorus (or two)

Rockefeller Center was, as it always was around the holidays, a goddamn nightmare.

There were people everywhere, all crushed together in their puffer jackets and hats and earmuffs, and that was just on the sidewalks. The skating rink was so busy Bucky thought it was a wonder that the skaters were managing to make it more than a few inches without bumping into someone. The air smelled sharp and cold, and the music playing from unseen speakers was loud enough to make thinking almost impossible.

He watched for a moment, then turned to see Steve doing the exact same thing, eyeing the ice rink with a dubious, and possibly disappointed, expression.

“Wanna check out Bryant Park?” Bucky asked.

Steve huffed out a breath that was close to a laugh. “Absolutely,” he said, and immediately grabbed for Bucky’s hand.

They managed to make their way out of the chaos and onto a much quieter street, devoid of people for the most part. Steve looked like his feathers were all ruffled thanks to the crowds, and Bucky thought he could use a few seconds to right himself. Steve’s cheeks were rosy red thanks to the cold, and his nose was about the same, made even darker due to his rubbing at it. 

“I felt like I was going nuts in there,” he puffed out. “Did you feel like you were going nuts in there?”

“I mean, Christmas Eve is in three days, so that was bound to happen,” Bucky said. “And to be honest, I expected it to be worse than that.”

“I’m just starting to think this was a bad idea,” Steve said. “I figured with that many people we could just blend in without anyone noticing us, but who wants to stay in that?”

“Who made the plan to come down here, Rudolph?” Bucky teased. He reached over to gently pinch the tip of Steve’s nose, which made him grimace and try to twist away. “‘Cause it wasn’t me, that’s for sure.”

Steve shook his head. “Maybe we should just do something else,” he said, almost resigned. “See what we can do around home, because this is just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Bucky said, stopping him in his tracks. “Now, where’s this coming from?”

Another shake of the head. “We’ll just figure something else out,” Steve insisted. “I mean it, Buck, come on.”

“Do you realize you’ve been talking yourself out of your own plans for as long as I’ve known you?” Bucky asked, then slung an arm around his neck, tugging him close the same way he always had as they began walking. “It’s your night, Steve. World’s your oyster, so come on, tell me what you want to do. I can work my magic and make it happen.”

“What kind of magic is that?” Steve asked. 

They were nearly cheek to cheek like this, and Bucky could almost feel him smiling. “I dunno,” he said. “It depends on what you’re looking for, and I think I already know what that is.”

A few minutes later, and they were in Bryant Park. The Christmas market was in full swing, but it was easy to walk through, which Bucky found surprising. He guessed most of the crowds were gathered back the way they came or packed onto Fifth Avenue, gazing into the glittering windows of storefront after storefront. Turn the clock back about ninety years and Bucky was doing the same with his sisters and Steve, who’d made his way to the front and had his nose pressed against the cold, cold glass. They were all squished together, trying to get the best look possible at Macy’s newest Christmas display and gazing at every detail.

Back then, they could only dream about affording anything inside, and even though Bucky could now buy as many Christmas presents as he damn well pleased, growing up with tight money did a number on one’s brain and it still made him search for the cheapest thing possible. Bucky called that being wise with his money. Sam and Natasha called that being a cheapskate.

Sure, when it came to himself Bucky tended to pinch his pennies. He had a few nice things of his own, but that rule was one he chose to override when it came to Steve. There had been so many birthdays and Christmases and mundane days when Bucky wanted to give him the world but couldn’t afford that, and now with the frankly incredible amount of army back pay he had in his bank account, the town was his and Steve’s to paint red.

For now, though, there were more important tasks at hand.

They came upon the ice rink, which wasn’t too busy, much to Bucky’s surprise, and he found a small table tucked away from the action while Steve disappeared to the stand selling steaming cups of hot chocolate. Bucky set his hat in his lap and scratched a hand through his hair before replacing it, watching the kids holding onto gliding plastic snowmen as they tried to skate around the rink. He watched a woman with too much skill to be cooped up on one corner of the ice, spinning gracefully along to the Christmas music filtering down from the speakers.

Bucky turned to glance at the kiosk Steve disappeared to, but instead found him holding two large paper cups and coming back to the chair he’d left. He set the cups down and took a seat, ankle pressing up against Bucky’s.

“You get your chocolate fix?” Bucky asked.

“I will once this cools down,” Steve said. He slid the other cup closer to Bucky and added, “Here. Yours has peppermint schnapps in it.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Bucky asked.

“Only all the time,” Steve said, grinning.

“Well, it’s times ten today,” Bucky said, and raised his cup to bump it against Steve’s. He took a slow, savoring sip. The hot chocolate was smooth, velvety, and surprisingly good. Perhaps some of that was thanks to the schnapps, but regardless, Bucky enjoyed it. It was all Steve’s fault he was getting a sweet tooth, anyway. Him and his cookbooks and his endless trove of recipes. They were only being broken out again thanks to the holidays, and with his trips to any thrift store he could find, his collection was only growing.

Steve took a sip of his own drink and kept his eyes on the skaters, only becoming aware of Bucky’s staring after a few seconds. “What?” he asked.

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky said. “I already know you’re not backing down on this. You’ve been getting the same look in your eye when you want something since you were about eight years old.”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself. “I guess it’s just something I want to try,” he said. “Dealing with the cold is…I’m getting used to it. As long as I’m prepared, I’m okay, so that’s why I was thinking about trying the rink out. Why not? There’s so much I can do now, and I’ve been trying to find ways to prove that to myself for a while.”

Bucky definitely understood Steve’s aversion to the cold. Of course he did. They both dealt with it in different ways, and while braving cold weather didn’t bother Bucky much, it was hard not to think of bitter winter winds as something sinister, deep in the furthest corners of his mind. Steve felt it, too. Bucky knew that in his bones. Cold water did it for him. Being wet and cold anywhere or feeling icy winds whipping at his cheeks just wasn’t for Steve. He barely stomached airplanes and Quinjets. They were necessary, according to him, but not fun.

It was the only thing keeping Bucky from fully being on board with the plan. That and the thought of Steve faceplanting onto a great big block of ice wasn’t appealing. Super serum or not, Bucky didn’t want to set any broken noses tonight.

“Look,” Bucky said, straightening up a little. “If you really want to go, I’ll come with you.”

Indecision crossed briefly over Steve’s face. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said.

“Then who’s gonna make sure your feet don’t go out from under you?” Bucky said. “Being able to do all your fancy tricks in a fight doesn’t mean you won’t slip, so what are we waiting for?”

The apprehension dissipated. Just like that, Steve had a glint of excitement in his eyes, and Bucky pretended not to notice as he stood up. “Nothing, I guess,” he said, unable to stifle his smile.

-

Getting the skates on was easy. Walking toward the rink? Not so much.

Bucky’s done riskier things than this. Hell, he had an easier time walking across a frozen river in the thick of a Russian winter with a rifle balanced on his shoulder or sneaking across black ice while crossing the street than he did balancing on a paper thin blade. Maybe he really was getting rusty.

But lo and behold, he managed to stand up straight. That may have been a learned sense of balance and coordination, but it was a relief knowing he wasn’t going face first into the pavement. “Alright,” he said. “Moment of truth, pal. Get over here.”

Steve looked hesitant. He was balanced for the most part, but the look on his face was not one of excitement by any means. “Just give me a second,” he said. “One second.”

With that, he gingerly stepped forward. He gripped the railing for dear life, and Bucky had a feeling he was more worried about feeling embarrassed than actually falling. Steve had stuck plenty of landings in his life, before and after the serum. What was a few inches of ice in the middle of a park?

“Need a hand?” Bucky asked.

He half-expected Steve to protest that, but to Bucky’s surprise, he nodded before taking the offered hand, gripping it tightly as he came forward and puffing out a breathy laugh. “This is already harder than it looks,” Steve said. “I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”

“Well, we’re already here, so at least give it a try,” Bucky said. “You’ve been gearing up to this for a while.”

“It’s free, Buck,” Steve said. “It’s not like your money’s—”

Steve’s feet met the ice and he immediately began to tumble head first into it before Bucky caught him under his armpits and hoisted him up. They were nose to nose when Bucky helped him get his balance. He felt himself glide back a few inches, wobbling with it.

“See?” Bucky said. “Aren’t you glad you had me here?”

Steve looked a little bitter at the fact that he slipped, but he seemed more than happy to grab the railing surrounding the ice. “I’m glad I didn’t break my face,” he said. “But that’s all.”

“Hey, don’t look so disappointed,” Bucky said. “We’ll get you one of those little plastic snowmen to hold onto.”

“Wow, Buck, you’re a real laugh riot,” Steve said sourly. “Funniest guy I know.”

“I know,” Bucky said, grinning. “That’s why you let me put that ring on your finger, isn’t it?”

“How are you even standing up?” Steve asked, almost angrily.

“Beats me,” Bucky said. He offered his hand to Steve, trying to draw back on the teasing a little. “But come on, lighten up. I’ll be your plastic snowman, and we’ll figure this out together. You can even call me Frosty if that floats your boat.”

Steve rolled his eyes despite the smile creeping up his lips. “I’m gonna pass on that,” he said. “But I’ll take the rest of the offer.”

He reached for Bucky’s hand, gripping it tight as he stood up. His feet began to slip and slide again, but Bucky used his left arm to catch him around his waist. Once again, they were nose to nose. “Okay,” Bucky said, a little breathlessly. “Think I’m starting to see the problem.”

“What problem?” Steve asked.

“You’re not keeping your feet straight enough,” Bucky said. “I think that’s the only reason I haven’t fallen on my ass yet, so come on, look at everyone else. Not the pros, just the people doing the same thing we’re trying to do. Straighten ‘em out, Steve.”

Bucky was glad to still be holding onto him, because Steve almost went down hard as he attempted to find his footing, but once he was upright, he looked shocked that he was standing at all. Sure, he was still holding onto Bucky for dear life, but he seemed to be pleased with himself.

“Okay,” Steve said. “Okay, I think this is good. I think this is good enough. I just wanted to at least try standing up.”

“Hold your horses,” Bucky said. “We didn’t come all the way out here for you to stand up for five seconds and then tap out. At least give it a real try now that you have an idea of what you’re doing.”

Steve nodded, grip slowly loosening on Bucky before he finally let go. Bucky barely moved toward the railing, doing his best to rest against it without slipping. He would reach for his phone, but he had a feeling Steve would just make him delete any video evidence in the event that he fell down while Bucky was filming.

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky said. “Believe in yourself!”

“I believe I won’t hurt myself,” Steve said. “How’s that?”

“Works for me,” Bucky said. “Now look at these guys over here. Do what they’re doing. Bend your knees and march a little. Worst comes to worst, you slip. Just give it a try, alright?”

“Since when are you an ice skating expert?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a jack of all trades,” he said. “And I might have looked up the basics on how to do this before we even left the house. And texted your pal Romanoff to ask her what not to do.”

Steve gave him a puzzled look. “How did you know I was gonna bring it up that early?”

“Well, let’s see,” Bucky said. “Figure skating and hockey’s the only thing on one of the twenty channels we have, and once you mentioned coming out here, I knew what was coming. I like being prepared.”

“And looking like you know everything,” Steve teased.

Bucky attempted to move forward, and sure, his movements were the furthest from smooth, but he wasn’t exactly a spring chicken these days, anyway. He managed to come close to Steve, at least. “What makes you think I don’t?” Bucky said. “Okay, no more procrastinating. Show ‘em who’s boss, Steve. Put those legs to use.”

Steve hesitated once again, but he looked away from Bucky, attempting to gingerly follow the technique Bucky suggested. He did something akin to a march, taking small steps, but the good thing is that he wasn’t at any risk of falling. Evidently, those enhanced instincts were beginning to kick in, to help him give undivided attention to his balance. He glanced back at Bucky, seemingly happy with himself, and a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve asked. His eyes immediately went back to his feet when he began to glide back a little. “Mind coming over here?”

“Need me to be your snowman?” Bucky asked, and made a pisspoor attempt at moving toward Steve, stomping over rather than bothering to skate. The ice was slippery, and it was so easy for someone to lose their balance, but Bucky bent his knees and managed to stay upright during the last few steps as Steve took his hands, just as tightly as he did before.

“I’m not taking any chances,” Steve said with a nod. “Should we try to move?”

Bucky shrugged. “We can try,” he said. “Come on, just follow my lead.”

Bucky had a feeling they looked like a couple of chumps, moving half an inch at a time while everyone glided around them, but he wasn’t going to push Steve or himself to pick up the pace. They were essentially on the same level of expertise, which wasn’t saying much at all, but hey, they were making it work, weren’t they?

“I was about to give up, you know,” Steve said. “So, I’m kind of glad you read up on everything before we came.”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky said. “I’m just keeping an eye on you. I don’t think we’ll be doing ice capades anytime soon but at least—”

Whack. That was about the only sound to describe the body knocking directly into Bucky and making his feet go out from under him. His back hit the ice hard, and the curse that puffed out of him was wheezy as he caught his breath.

“Oh, shit!” A voice yelped out. “Sir, are you okay?”

Ice was rapidly melting through Bucky’s jeans and into his hair. God. That was going to be fun to deal with. “Do I really look that old?” Bucky asked after catching his breath. “‘Sir?’”

Steve was attempting to haul him up, but because of his skates, Bucky waved him off. “I’m good,” he said. “I’m good. Don’t need you breakin’ your neck for me.”

It turned out Bucky was mowed down by some kid in a jersey, who had turned tomato red, and said kid was currently trying to help him to his feet. “I’m really sorry, sir,” he stammered out. “My head, it was just like, I dunno—”

“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Bucky said, only reaching down to dust the frost off of himself, which ended up being pointless since it just melted the moment he touched it. “I think getting your face kicked in by Iron Man’s a lot worse than falling on your ass.”

Obviously, the kid thought that was a joke. Why wouldn’t he? “Yeah, probably,” he said, chuckling nervously. “Sorry again. I’ll…I’ll just go.”

With that, he skated away, as awkwardly as one could possibly skate. Bucky couldn’t help snorting at that. “Jesus,” he said.

Steve, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find it that funny, and he looked sour again, but it wasn’t so much at Bucky as it was the entire situation. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You got hit pretty hard.”

“Come on, I’ve dealt with worse,” Bucky said, bringing his arm around his shoulders. “I can handle a fall. It was just some kid, anyway.”

Steve took a moment, not looking completely convinced but then he sighed, and Bucky couldn’t help being relieved at the fact that he was shaking it off. Bucky himself was a chronic worrier, so he couldn’t exactly fault Steve for being the same way.

“Fine,” Steve said, but he was looking a little lighter as he took Bucky’s hand once more. “Wanna get out of here, old man?”

“Old man, huh?” Bucky said. He began an attempt at leading them to the edge of the rink, which went smoother than he expected it to. “What makes you say that?”

“First of all, that kid called you sir,” Steve explained. “Second of all, for a guy with supposed enhanced hearing, you watch TV pretty loud, and third of all, those grays are speaking for themselves.”

“So, that’s the thanks I get for bringing you all the way here?” Bucky asked. He came to the mat and immediately pushed the skate guards back on his blades as Steve did the same. “Real nice. Real sweet.”

“That’s what people tell me,” Steve said brightly before he stepped down and began making his way back to the spot where they could return their skates and retrieve their shoes.

“That so?” Bucky asked, coming up behind him to deliver a squeeze to Steve’s bottom that had Steve frantically turning around.

“Jesus, Bucky!” he whispered, and Bucky couldn’t tell if he was red from embarrassment or the cold. “What if someone saw that?”

“What are they gonna see?” Bucky asked. “I was right behind you. I’m not that stupid.”

“You’re not,” Steve said, but he was already laughing, eyes bright as he looked back at Bucky. “You’re just a jerk.”

“I’m the jerk you married, pal,” Bucky said. “Just remember that.”

They changed into their shoes and left their skates behind before going on their way. Plenty of the little shops and stands were open and packed with people, and so Bucky dealt with his damp, cold clothes until they found somewhere to eat. The pizza parlour they ducked into was packed with people and they squeezed into the first table they found, even if it was right by the front door and carried the winter air in whenever someone came inside.

“That enough spice for you, Buck?” Steve asked dubiously.

“Almost,” Bucky said. He handed the shaker filled with crushed red pepper over to Steve. “There. All done.”

Steve shook a little onto his own slice of pepperoni. “You cold?” he asked.

Bucky shrugged. “I’m good, I just need to dry off,” he said. “Main thing I’m thinking about is packing.”

Steve nodded, smiling a little. A secret, excited thing. “Me too,” he said. “I told Sam and Nat we’d meet up with them tomorrow, by the way. Might as well give them their presents before we leave.”

Bucky nodded before taking a bite of his pizza. “They didn’t want to tag along?” he asked. “Plenty of room.”

It was worth asking. Even though the plan was really just about the two of them, Bucky knew what Sam and Natasha meant to Steve, and over the past few months, it was becoming easier to see how well they worked as a group. They all found ways to bounce off of each other, and the nights out they’ve spent together were more fun than he’d imagined.

Still, Steve shook his head. “Sam’s spending Christmas with his family,” he said. “Nat said she’s going to Clint’s, so it looks like it’s just the two of us.”

“What a chore,” Bucky teased. He nudged Steve’s ankle with his own, leaning across the table a little. “And hey, you’re gonna like the place I picked out. It has a tree put up already, nice big fireplace, the works, but that’s about all I can tell you.”

“I know, I’m being as patient as I can be,” Steve said. “God, I can’t believe we’re actually…”

He smiled softly, maybe a little sadly, and didn’t finish, but the truth was that he didn’t have to. Bucky already knew what he was going to say. It had been on his own mind since December rolled in.

They hadn’t had a real Christmas together in decades. They’d had their first Christmas as a couple in their matchbox of an apartment with their skinny little tree, decorated with the few ornaments they could get their hands on, some of them even painted on by Steve and their old popcorn garland was wrapped around it. Then, the first one after Steve dragged Bucky out of the blurry hell that was Zola’s lab, spent in one of those ritzy London hotels, and then their last, which was in some little tavern just outside of Geneva, and they didn’t have a moment alone nor any real presents to spare, and then after that, there was nothing. Nothing until now.

It was a thought that made Bucky feel too many things at once. Those years felt both so close and so far away from them, and he wanted so badly to say so, but there would be time for that on Christmas. It would just be the two of them, far away from anything that could possibly distract them from each other, and that was all Bucky could ask for. He would take that over anything.

“Me neither,” Bucky said, reaching over to grab Steve’s hand and give it a squeeze. “So, let’s take advantage of it. Take it as slow as we can and enjoy it.”

Steve nodded, squeezing back. “That’s all I want,” he said.

A few days away from home sounded ideal. The apartment was getting a bit cramped, and the temptation to move out was growing even more urgent than before. Steve needed space for his art that wasn’t a corner of their guest bedroom, and Bucky was getting very, very used to the satisfaction of restoring an old hunk of junk some poor bastard called a car and giving it a new lease on life. A garage would be nice, or at least a parking spot that wasn’t on the street. 

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” Bucky said.

He punctuated it with a kiss to Steve’s knuckles, and they only let go to continue eating. Steve’s knee remained pressed against Bucky’s own the entire time.

-

Back at home, they found themselves in bed a little earlier than usual, which was becoming commonplace since they’d gotten a TV for the bedroom. Bucky was damn relieved to be out of his icy clothes and in a pair of sweatpants. It was warm under the covers, and with Steve’s head resting against his shoulder, his leg crossed with Bucky’s, it was incredibly easy to give into the fatigue overtaking him.

The movie Steve had left on began to make less and less sense the more time passed, and it was only the third time Steve poked him that Bucky realized he was dozing off almost every other minute, waking and insisting that he was, indeed, awake each time. If George Barnes happened to be alive, he’d say that Bucky was getting a taste of his own medicine thanks to how much he’d shouted at the man to stop snoring while he listened to the radio.

“You know, maybe you really are old,” Steve teased. “You’re one step away from eating dinner at four o’clock.”

Bucky gave his ear a light tug. “I’m a hundred years old, pal,” he said. “If I want an early bird special, I’ll damn well get one.”

Bucky wasn’t sure who fell asleep first, if he was being honest. It might have been Steve, but then again, Bucky did shut his eyes for a while without realizing it. He found himself turned onto his side when he rose again, Steve’s back pressed against his front and his fingers laced with Bucky’s own as he slept on.

It was all too easy, falling asleep again. Outside, a few flurries of snow began to fall but he and Steve were far away from the cold, tangled up in each other. Soon enough, they’d be doing exactly this in the cabin Bucky picked out, and as exciting as that was, the thought quickly ebbed away as Bucky tumbled down into slow, heavy sleep.

-

Bucky woke up and immediately checked the time. Half past eleven. The garage he worked at was closed this week and really, he could sleep for as long as he wanted but he forced himself to get out of bed anyway, taking care not to wake Steve. He got dressed, drank coffee on the couch, and glanced at the presents under the tree, remembering to pack them in the truck as soon as possible. He might have splurged a little, but that was acceptable, wasn’t it? It was their first Christmas as a married couple, and he thought he had every right to go all out.

Still, he had one thing left to do. If Bucky had it his way, he would have lazed around in his pajamas until he had no choice but to get dressed, but duty called, and he wasn’t quite done shopping yet.

He pulled his coat on, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door and slipping out of the apartment. Surely, Steve would wake up and notice him gone, but that was alright. He had a funny feeling Steve would try to do the exact same thing.

He found himself in Williamsburg soon enough. There was meant to be an art store somewhere around the area, and Bucky was on the hunt for it. It was his only destination, but he wasn’t opposed to picking up a few extra little trinkets while he was out.

It wasn’t too cold, which meant that everyone and their mother had the grand idea to go for a walk, so Bucky dealt with the business. He persisted his way through each store, and then he finally stumbled upon the shop he was most anxious to find.

It was tiny and unassuming, with just a small, wooden blade sign hanging from the building. It vaguely reminded Bucky of Monroe’s, which was the art supply store that sat on the corner of Myrtle Avenue and Navy Street back in his day. It was hard not to think of it as he peered through the window, hands in his pockets. Monroe’s always smelled like turpentine, old paper, and dust whenever he wandered in with Steve, who rarely ever bought anything save for a new sketchbook but always insisted that Bucky didn’t try to pay for anything or treat him to something more expensive.

He always had the temptation to stuff something into his pocket when Steve and the clerk weren’t looking—just a few paintbrushes or maybe some good quality charcoals. Bucky had gotten to know about these things well enough, even though he didn’t have a single artistic bone in his body, and finding something that made Steve happy was all he wanted to do.

This shop, however, anchored Bucky to the present. It was clean and sleek inside, but packed with supplies, just as its name suggested. The only employee in the store only lifted her head to acknowledge that she was aware of him, but Bucky would be the last guy on the planet to complain about that. He liked shopping in peace. Someone hanging over his neck just made him less inclined to buy anything at all.

So, he strolled through the aisles, past sketchbooks and canvases of varying sizes, boxes of pencils and fancy looking markers until he found what he was looking for.

He looked over row after row of oil paints, paintbrushes, the works. They all seemed to be good quality, but they weren’t enough. Newfound money meant that Bucky wanted to use it. He wanted to spend it on the things he could never buy before and try to give Steve the best damn Christmas he possibly could.

That was when he saw it.

If Bucky wasn’t completely sure he was awake, he would have pinched himself, but there it was in front of his eyes. A big, wooden chest with drawer after drawer, layer after layer, filled with tubes of oil paints, paintbrushes, knives, varnishes, and a palette. There was even more, some of which Bucky barely had a clue of what their purpose was, but it didn’t matter.

He’d found something damn near identical almost eighty years ago at Monroe’s. He did everything he could to save up for the set. He worked back-breaking shifts down at the docks and tried not to spend money on much of anything, but with the rent and Steve’s medicine and life needing Bucky to cough up every dollar that went in his pocket, the set remained in the shop, practically staring at Bucky every time he walked past it.

It cost a pretty penny. Eighteen dollars may not have sounded like much to anyone these days. It was no skin off anyone’s nose now, but eighteen dollars was enough to make Bucky feel like a big, floppy fish had taken his gut’s place, but God, the way Steve looked at that thing. He just knew he had to try to save up for it

Here and now, sure, this particular set was still damn expensive. Still enough to make Bucky’s eyes widen, but it would be nothing in the long run. If he was getting used to the price of movie tickets and the rent, he could get used to everything else, too.

Bucky craned his neck to get a look at the front of the store, where the employee was still sitting behind the cash register. He lifted the box beside the display and carried it over, taking care not to jostle the thing too much. Delicate contents and all that.

He gave his best smile, doing his best to turn on the old charm as he went through the usual formalities that came with checking out, but soon enough, he was finished. The text he’d received from Steve said that he was grabbing a few things and would meet Bucky back home soon, which ultimately made Bucky realize he had to make it back before Steve did.

Somehow, he managed to do it. 

He rushed home and wrapped the set up, which felt almost as heavy as a cinderblock, but it looked good enough. It was placed carefully under the tree, right behind the presents he and Steve have to give Sam and Natasha when they met up with them. Hopefully that was more in their neck of the woods. Bucky wanted to hold off on running around until the drive up to Phoenicia.

Steve unlocked the door a few minutes later, a brown paper bag from the bodega held in one hand as he shut the door with the other. “Hey,” he said, making his way toward the kitchen. “You just get home?” 

Bucky followed him, snaking his arms around Steve’s waist the moment Steve set his bag down. “About ten minutes ago,” he said. “Just had a few extra things to do.”

Steve nodded and leaned into Bucky’s hold. “Me too,” he said. “I just grabbed us some stuff for the trip, toothbrushes, soap, that kind of stuff.”

Bucky hummed before he leaned in to press his lips against Steve’s cheek. It was like kissing an ice cube. “You realize you’re freezing, right?” he asked.

“Tell me about it,” Steve said, sighing “At least you’re not. You’re like a furnace, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t let the chill of Steve’s skin stop his trajectory. He kissed the corner of his jaw until Steve turned his head just enough for Bucky to get to the tip of his nose, which was as cold as it always got in the winter, and then his lips. “What time are we meeting up with those guys?” he asked.

“They said to be at the restaurant by five, so we’ll leave a little after four, I guess,” Steve said. “That leaves us a couple of hours on our own, so…”

“So,” Bucky said. “I think that gives me plenty of time to warm you up.”

He felt Steve’s smile more than he saw it, thanks to the angle they were caught at. “I think it does,” he said, turning fully to face Bucky. “I’m pretty cold, though, so it might take a little while.”

Bucky grinned. “I can make that work,” he said. “Can’t leave my guy like this, can I?”

“Your guy really hopes you don’t,” Steve said. His gloved hands were sliding up to rest at Bucky’s chest just as Bucky settled his own more firmly on Steve’s hips. He dipped his head down to kiss what little skin he could get to above the collar of Steve’s coat, moving upward and making sure to get the back of Steve’s ear. It left him squeezing Bucky a little tighter, breath hitching as he exhaled.

“Then there’s no point waiting around,” Bucky murmured against his skin. “C’mon.”

That was all Steve needed, because a moment later they were making their way into the bedroom, and Bucky worked off layer after layer, like a damn Christmas present, from Steve until he could get to everything he’d been wanting.

Warm him up. Bucky could do even more than that.

-

They ended up in Brighton Beach, in some dim little restaurant—which was a fusion of Russian, Ukrainian, and Uzbek food— down a few stairs and below a bar with loud music blaring onto the street. Inside, it felt much later than it actually was due to the low lighting and the noise. It smelled a little like smoke and a little like something warm and spicy, but that suddenly made it far more enticing than it initially appeared.

“Romanoff’s pick?” Bucky asked.

“Isn’t it always?” Steve said, smiling.

“Taste she has,” Bucky said, and he already knew she was in earshot, so laying it on thick was almost instinctual. “That’s about all I can give her.”

“Aw,” Natasha said, stepping between Steve and Bucky. “See? I knew you liked me, somewhere deep down.”

It was all part of how they operated, not so different compared to how it was with Sam and himself, but that was less of a game of wits and something Bucky rolled with easily. It’s just how it is, is how Sam put it, and well, Bucky couldn’t agree more.

They found Sam waiting at the table, and after they all settled into their chairs, it didn’t take long to get to talking. They each had a bag of gifts to exchange, and making the most of the evening was about all they had since it wouldn’t be long before they all went their separate ways. Steve and Bucky to the Catskills, Sam to Louisiana, and Natasha to Missouri.

They ate, they drank, and then they drank some more since having two super soldiers and two heavyweights made getting drunk almost impossible. The food was good, the alcohol burned pleasantly in Bucky’s throat, and when another round of shots were ordered, he found each one was an infused vodka.

He grabbed the first one he saw, and held it to his lips, preparing to drink it before Sam eyed him. “You know that one’s horseradish, right?” he asked.

Bucky shrugged. “And?” he said. “I’ve had it before. Tastes just fine to me. There’s another right there, so if no one else wants it, I’ll take that one, too.”

Sam, like Bucky knew he would, rose to the unspoken challenge took the glass. He clinked it against Bucky’s and raised it, and they each knocked their shots back. The familiar burn stung Bucky’s nose and his throat, but it didn’t phase him. Sam’s face briefly turned sour before he righted himself and met Bucky’s eyes.

“Kind of want another,” Sam said heavily.

“That makes two of us, pal,” Bucky said. “C’mon, Steve, you’re up. Take your pick.”

“Already claimed these,” Steve said, one of which was chili pepper while the other was cherry. “Nat?”

“Ready when you are,” Natasha said, raising her first glass.

They both downed the first, and then the second. Natasha arched a brow at Steve, then at Bucky.

“Don’t look at me,” Bucky said. “I never saw him hold his liquor right, even after he got the serum, so somebody taught him something.”

“Yeah, but I have no idea who,” Natasha said drily. “I’d like to meet her, though.”

Steve laughed at that. “We came here a few days after the Chitauri attack,” he said. “Just the two of us, and she was determined to get me drunk.”

“May not have worked, but I think that was the start of a beautiful friendship,” Natasha said. “One I owe all to myself.”

“Oh, hey,” Steve said, reaching down into the bag between Bucky and himself. “Your presents.”

He handed two off to Bucky and held two in his own hands as Sam and Natasha went through their own bags and pulled out wrapped gifts. They all managed to swap, and upon agreement, decided they’d each open their presents after arriving home, which they needed to do soon if they wanted to get an early start in the morning.

Outside the restaurant was where they said their goodbyes, and not long after, they were on the train home, finally making it inside and setting their things down.

“Sometimes I’m glad I can’t get drunk, you know,” Steve said, sitting heavily on the couch. “I don’t know how I’d pack right now if I was.”

Bucky came to lean against the back of it, hands sliding down Steve’s chest. “I’m guessing that means you want to get started,” he said. He met Steve halfway when he tilted his head up for a kiss, soft and short. “I’m ready when you are.”

The cabin was only two hours away, so it wasn’t as though they had to leave at the crack of dawn. Just early enough to get in, get themselves settled, and have the rest of the day to do whatever they pleased. They’d have to buy groceries, plan out what to make for dinner, but other than that, there was nothing of note for them to do. This trip was about relaxing, having an escape, and if it all went according to plan, maybe it could become something they make a routine out of.

-

They finished packing and cleaning up the apartment, throwing out the last of their trash and anything that might go spoiled while they were gone, and by the time they were in bed, fallen into their usual routine, it was hard not to talk about what the trip would be like. Traveling was something they’d always wanted to do, and because they hadn’t gone anywhere since their trip out west, that itch had a desperate need to be scratched.

Maybe one of these days, they’d travel overseas again and explore it on their own terms, at their own pace. Maybe they’d go on another road trip one of these days and see what the rest of the country had to offer. They’d cross as many states as possible off their list. Their anniversary really wasn’t too far away, and Bucky wanted to plan that now rather than later.

His sleep was far from restless, if only just a little too light, but he woke up feeling rested. It was seven o’clock sharp when he showered, and as Steve did the same, Bucky got dressed, did a final sweep of the apartment, and then left to go grab them breakfast rather than deal with the hassle of making it. They’d surely be eating food from gas stations and diners for the next few hours, so why not start now?

It was on his way to retrieve the truck, and with their bags secured in the bed of the pick-up, covered up just in case the weather wasn’t on Bucky’s side, it was high time for them to get going, and that was exactly what he told Steve in the text he sent him as he came around the corner.

Steve was already outside by the time Bucky pulled up, and he jogged around to get in the passenger seat. “What’s this?” he asked, referring to the bag on the arm rest and the styrofoam cups in the cup holders.  He got into the passenger’s seat, shutting the door behind him.

“Coffee with that hazelnut creamer,” Bucky said. “And a french toast bagel with cream cheese.”

Steve immediately reached into the bag, pulling out his foil wrapped breakfast. “You’re the best,” he said. “You know that?”

“I do, actually,” Bucky said. Steve seemed to be completely on cloud nine, his excitement evident in his every movement. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling the same way. He was rife with anticipation. A real, bonafide Christmas with Steve was right in front of him. There was no way to stop thinking about that. “Thanks to someone telling me so all the time.”

“Oh, by the way,” Steve said. He took a sip from his coffee and then set it back in the cup holder beside Bucky’s. “If you need me to drive, just let me know.”

“I’m guessing that means you want to drive?” Bucky asked.

“Well, I’ve barely driven this thing since you got it, so yeah,” Steve said. “I do.”

“Next stop we make, she’s all yours,” Bucky said, then began to pull away from the curb and get back onto the road. “If you can handle her.”

“Come on. She’s a truck, Bucky, not a race car,” Steve joked. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.”

“I have faith in you,” Bucky said, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. “You excited to see where we’re headed?”

“Well, you haven’t shown me a single picture, so you can call me curious, too,” Steve said. “But yeah. Definitely. It’ll be nice going upstate and actually seeing what’s upstate. Didn’t get to do much of that at the compound. It’s pretty secluded, and nowhere near where we’re headed, anyway.”

There was a bit of traffic to deal with, but Bucky tried not to pay it any mind. It was the holidays, and people were bound to be more than a little frantic getting to and from anywhere. “Then I’ll tell you what,” Bucky said. “Whatever you want to do, you pick it. Whether that’s staying in or galavanting or a bit of both, it’s all up to you.”

He gave Steve’s thigh a final squeeze before letting go, and felt Steve’s eyes on him for a long moment before the silence between them was finally broken. “I think I want to stay in bed all week,” Steve said. “Or the couch. Whatever’s most comfortable.”

“Guess we’ll just have to see,” Bucky said, catching his eye for a moment before turning his attention to the road once more. “I’m way more in favor of the bed.”

“”Course you are,” Steve said.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Bucky said. “Less yapping, more eating. That bagel ain’t getting any hotter.”

“It’s from the place on the corner, right?” Steve asked.

“Is there anywhere else I’d even consider?” Bucky said. “That’s our spot and that’s all there is to it.”

Steve took a bite, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Definitely a reason for it, too,” he said before settling into his seat.

Bucky left him to it and turned on the radio. Whenever Steve was enjoying his food, it was hard to get a word out of him, and Bucky had a feeling he might end up napping soon, anyway. More than an hour in the car, and Steve was at liberty to knock out at any moment.

The traffic began to clear and Bucky focused on the road, aware of Steve right beside him doing the exact same thing. It would be good for both of them, the change in scenery, and since there wouldn’t be too much snow, they just might get to enjoy it.

-

Bucky drove for a while, up until they were out of Brooklyn entirely. They stopped in Woodbury for gas, and as promised, he let Steve take the wheel. He backed out of their spot and soon enough, they were back on the road, the radio still playing on. It gave Bucky a bit of downtime to stretch his legs, to do nothing at all, which was nice. As much as he enjoyed driving, he was a little relieved for the break.

“So, how far away is this place?” Steve asked.

“We’re only about fifteen minutes away from town, but I think it’s gonna end up feeling like we’re pretty secluded,” Bucky said. “Gotta have something nearby, otherwise we would have been an hour away from just about everything.”

Steve was trying to fish for information judging by his questions. He was never great with surprises, mostly because he figured out one was coming and he usually tried to figure out what it was as soon as he possibly could, which meant Bucky just had to get more stealthy about his methods. He pulled off Steve’s birthday pretty successfully, if he said so himself, so he thought he could keep this under wraps for just a little while longer.

“Okay,” Steve said, smiling a little to himself. “I think that’s enough to go off of.”

Bucky scoffed. “Sure it is,” he said. “You’re just gonna try to get me to tell you more in about a minute or so. I know you too well for you to get away with that, so know you’ll enjoy it, okay?”

Steve shrugged, still in high spirits, and set his eyes back on the road. Bucky messed around with the radio for a while before finally settling on a station that was both half decent and not entirely static. It was easy to find comfort in the silence, just watching the scenery ahead. All naked trees still heavy with snow that seemed to have fallen before their trip began. It was still piled up around the roads. The sun was bright and almost silvery behind white clouds, which surely meant even more snow would come.

Bucky shut his eyes for a few minutes, not opening them until the car began to slow down and he found himself at a rest stop. He had only been asleep for about forty-five minutes, but he was already in desperate need of more caffeine and so was Steve, since he seemed far more interested in bitter gas station coffee than anyone else could possibly be.

They switched seats once more, and Bucky was glad for that. They didn’t have much further to go, but with the hot coffee slugging through his system and the sight of the road, he was right back to himself all over again and able to continue on his way.

“You hungry?” Bucky asked as Steve got back into the car.

Steve shook his head. “I’ll eat when we get there,” he said. “We’ll see what’s around us after we settle in, get our bearings for a little while.”

That was lined up pretty closely with Bucky’s plan, so he started the truck up again and got going, feeling a sense of anticipation that wasn’t quite there before beginning to steadily build in the core of his chest.

He was eager to see the cabin for himself, to see if the pictures really did it justice and if it was, in fact, everything it was cracking up to be. He wanted this to turn out as perfectly as he’d been envisioning it, and didn’t he and Steve deserve that? They’d been gearing up for a Christmas alone together for so long, so wasn’t it high time that it finally happened?

Bucky thought so.

-

They finally reached Phoenicia, which was smaller than Bucky expected, but no different to the pictures he’d seen. The rooftops were covered with snow and there were a few restaurants and shops, a few small hotels, but he didn’t look for too long since the cabin was just outside of town, so back on the highway he went, which had Steve arching a brow.

“What?” Bucky said. “I told you it was a few minutes out, didn’t I?”

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to start heading for the mountains,” Steve chuckled. “You have the address?”

“Just turn the GPS on,” Bucky said, handing his phone over. “We’re not that far away.”

He turned onto a quiet road lined with trees, one that twisted upward and led them a little deeper into the mountains where the trees only got thicker. It was getting colder, which only made sense since they were only headed further north. Two hours away from Brooklyn’s slushy snow and storefronts felt like another world, and Bucky felt like it was a secret everyone was in on aside from him.

“Is that…?” Steve began, looking out the window and then whipping his head back around to Bucky. “Buck, when did you—?”

“About two months ago,” Bucky answered, resisting the pleased smile trying to pull at his lips. “Wanted to make sure I definitely had it.”

“How much did this cost?” Steve pressed. “Look at this place, it’s like—” he grinned. “It’s more like a mansion than anything else.”

Bucky shrugged. “Think of it as part of your Christmas present,” he said. “I figured if we were coming out here, we might as well make the most of it.”

The cabin was enormous, and no different to what Bucky paid for. It was fit for far more than just two people, but with its warm lights and big windows, he couldn’t say no to it. He was anxious to see the inside, and he was so unbelievably relieved when he noticed the garage connected to it as he drove up. There would be no scraping snow off of his windshield and warming the truck up until it stopped feeling like an igloo in there, so that was where he headed first, carefully parking inside and then finally getting out just as Steve did the same.

They uncovered the bed of the truck and grabbed their bags before going around to the front, since that was where the keys were waiting. The snow on the ground had mostly melted, so there was no trudging through any of it. They walked up the few stairs leading to the porch and Bucky found the keys in the mailbox with a burst of anticipation. He found the correct one and unlocked the door, stepping inside first.

It was incredibly spacious. The windows were massive and left the entirety of the room flooded with light. A spiraling staircase led to the second floor, and when Bucky turned, there was a long leather couch opposite an obscenely large television—which was hung above a large fireplace—and a towering Christmas tree.

There was so much to take in, and he’d need to explore the whole cabin to do so. He was so enamored with the sight that only the sound of the front door shutting snapped him from his reverie. Steve was right beside him a second later, and with the warm lighting flooded through the room, he looked about as golden as the look in his eyes.

“Bucky,” he said softly.

“I know,” Bucky said as he opened his arms wide. “Go ahead and say it.”

Steve came close, fingers curling into the lapels of Bucky’s coat before he sealed their lips together. Bucky reached up to take his face into his hands, savoring in the feeling just before they both broke away. “I love it,” Steve said, smiling with every word. “Better yet, I love you.”

“I know you do,” Bucky teased before pulling him right back in to kiss him one more time. “You really like it that much?”

“I love it,” Steve repeated. “It’s perfect.”

Steve didn’t deserve anything less, and with perfection crossed off the list, Bucky was more than ready to focus on the rest of the trip.

“It’s our first Christmas as a married couple,” Bucky said, resting his forehead against Steve’s for a moment. “Had to make it special somehow.”

“Buck,” Steve said, and then trailed off, just shaking his head. He didn’t continue, but he didn’t need to. All Bucky wanted was for him to be happy, to enjoy their getaway, and it seemed that Bucky was getting the job done after all,

He smoothed his thumb over Steve’s cheekbone before he let go, nodding toward the stairs. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go see what the rest of this place is all about.”

They grabbed their things and went straight for the largest bedroom at the end of the hall, which had more space than either of them knew what to do with. The bed was bigger than any bed Bucky had ever slept in, and the bathroom had a sleek glass shower along with a tub, double sinks, and floors that were fashioned to look like big slabs of stone. There was a thermostat on the wall, which Bucky raised a brow at, and then became even more perplexed by when he realized its actual function.

“Who the hell needs heated floors?” Bucky asked.

“Rich people, apparently,” Steve answered, popping his head in.

“Well, that’s who we’re renting from,” Bucky said. “Imagine explaining boiling water for a bath to this guy.”

“Or sharing a bathroom with everyone in your apartment building,” Steve added.

Bucky nearly groaned at that. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “I wanna think about getting in this shower with you sometime, not Mr. Meyer.”

“I feel like he didn’t even realize there was a lock on the door,” Steve said.

Bucky shook his head. “He knew,” he said. “He just thought people had some kind of sixth sense and that they’d know not to try to walk in the bathroom while he did his business.”

“Buck,” Steve groaned. “Gross.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Bucky said. “So, enough about him. Get unpacked and then we’ll get some groceries.”

“Actually,” Steve said. “Do you mind doing it? I kind of want to take a shower after I’m done unpacking. Maybe see if the heated floors are actually any good.”

Steve’s poker face wasn’t bad, but Bucky had a feeling Steve needed him gone for a bit, so he took the hint and shrugged. “Take your time,” Bucky said. “We got plenty of it, sweetheart.”

He punctuated that with a quick kiss, and he let Steve go, buttoning his own coat back up. He stood long enough to help Steve carry the bags up and unpack before he got going. Christ, this place was huge. Bucky could probably do a lap through the entire place and end up breaking one hell of a sweat. He wasn’t used to houses, cabins, or anything with more than one level.

“Call me if you think of anything we need, huh?” Bucky said as he opened the front door. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Steve leaned in to steal another kiss before Bucky stepped out, and his smile was soft, completely at ease as he stepped back. “See you then,” Steve said. “And I saw a waffle maker in the kitchen, so buy us a box mix while you’re there.”

Bucky gave him a two fingered salute and then made his way down to the truck, pulling his hood up against the cold. He hoped that being in such a small town meant less chaos at the grocery store. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and surely everyone had the grand idea to get dinner for both tomorrow and Christmas Day covered now.

He cranked the truck’s heat up and tried not to worry about it. Things were off to a good start, and he hoped they stood that way.

-

The grocery store was a breeze, especially since they agreed to keep dinner simple. It was only the two of them, after all, so Bucky was back at the cabin soon enough, hauling the few bags he had up to the porch and letting himself inside.

“Steve?” he called as he scraped his boots on the mat by the door.

“Be down in a second,” Steve shouted back, voice echoing. Not even a few seconds later, he was coming down the stairs, changed into sweatpants and one of Bucky’s sweaters. His hair was still damp, sticking out stubbornly, and he pushed it back in an attempt to get it out of his eyes. “You’re back this soon?”

“Didn’t have that much to buy, so it was a piece of cake,” Bucky said. “Wanna help me out with these?”

They put everything away, and since they were both feeling ready to eat something, it made sense to just eat whatever was easiest, so they ate BLTs at the kitchen counter, nearly pressed arm to arm. 

“You have to try the shower out, Buck,” Steve said around his mouthful. “It’s gonna change your life.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked. “And what’s your stance on the heated floors?”

Steve stifled a laugh as he swallowed his food. “We’re getting them whenever we get a house of our own,” he said after. “Definitely. I’m sold.”

“As enticing as that sounds,” Bucky began. “I’m more interested in the hot tub.”

Steve gave him a look. “What hot tub?”

“The one on the deck out back,” Bucky said. “You didn’t notice it?”

Steve turned to look out the window behind him, spotting the covered hot tub. “And you don’t think you’ll freeze once you get out?” he asked.

“I think I’ll survive,” Bucky said. “Ain’t too far to get back inside. You gonna join me?”

Steve turned his attention back to what remained of his sandwich, and he seemed to be deep in thought as he finished it off, but then he met Bucky’s gaze soon after, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Why not?” he asked. “You wanna do that tonight?”

Bucky tilted his head. “If you’re up for it,” he said. “Maybe once the sun starts going down.”

“You trying to romance me?” Steve teased. “You know, you bring a guy up to a place like this and he can’t help wondering what kind of plans you have.”

“You know exactly what kind of plans I have,” Bucky said. “I think you know me well enough to know those plans pretty well.”

“Lucky for you, I’m on board with all of ‘em,” Steve said. “Is that why you said to bring swim trunks?”

“What, you think I mentioned that for no reason?” Bucky asked. “And hey, if it gets too cold, we have a nice big fireplace right over there.”

Steve nodded, leaning into Bucky when he reached forward to bring him closer. “Kinda want to check that out now,” he said. “Couch looks pretty comfortable, too.”

“Like I told you, we have plenty of time to do everything,” Bucky said. “Hell, we can even change up which bedrooms we sleep in since there’s four other ones. Whatever we want. That’s the whole point of the trip. Right now, we’re barely getting started.”

It felt good, reminding himself of that fact. For now, they could simply focus on relaxing, on doing nothing at all. They had nothing to do and nowhere to be until the first of January, and they’d take advantage of that however they damn well pleased.

-

They ate dinner, and while it turned out to be far, far too cold to even bother looking at the hot tub, it didn’t really matter too much. The fire was far more appealing, anyway, and with an old fashioned burning sweetly down his throat, with Steve laying between his thighs, it was one of the most peaceful nights he’d had in a long time.

“You wanna pick the next one?” Bucky asked before offering the remote over to Steve.

Steve shook his head. “I’m saving my picks for tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll spend it like this all over again if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Feeling up to it?” Bucky repeated. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Steve leaned up to take a sip from his own drink and then settled back into his original spot before falling back into silence for a while. Bucky picked another movie, but as time went on, he found that he wasn’t paying much attention to it. Rather, he was far more aware of just how tired he was, and Steve seemed to be in the same boat, or so he thought.

Once again, he’d turned pensive, and before Bucky could ask what he was thinking, Steve looked up at him. “You know,” Steve began. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I just need to get it off my chest, I think.” 

He shifted until he could come closer, and Bucky moved to accommodate him, turning onto his side with his back against the couch and letting Steve come to lie beside him, ankle linking with Bucky’s own. “It’s not hard for me to believe we’re here anymore, or that we actually made it this far,” Steve said. “But right before we left I realized that wasn’t the case for Christmas, Buck. Not by a long shot.”

All Bucky could do was nod. He didn’t want to cut Steve short when he finally mustered the energy to say what he was thinking. What they were both thinking. Bucky set his hand at the side of Steve’s neck, thumb poised against the corner of his jaw, a silent signal to urge him on.

“The last real one we had together was before you shipped out,” Steve continued. “And sure, we tried to make it happen when we were in London, and then again the next year, but I barely remember it because right after that—”

“I know, pal,” Bucky said gently. “I know.”

Steve only seemed to be capable of nodding until he found the urge to speak once more. “So, sometimes, I still can’t believe we’re here,” he said in a rush. “The fact that we can do this, the fact that we’re married with papers and all, the fact that everything ended up working out. I’m not used to it. I’m just not, and when I’m not thinking about it, it’s fine. I’m fine, but since I woke up, I couldn’t get any of it off my mind.”

“Steve,” Bucky said. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about myself. Some days feel like no time passed at all but then others, it’s…it’s damn near impossible not to think about how much time we had to lose.”

Another nod. Steve’s hand was set on Bucky’s side, his eyes still burning right through him, even as Bucky kept talking. “But listen,” he continued. “You said it yourself just now. We’re here. Against every goddamn odd thrown at us, we’re here and we’re able to have all the things we wanted. We have time for all of it now, and I think we deserve that, if you ask me. You deserve that, Steve. The past ain’t meant to define the future, and I’m starting to figure that out myself. Us getting the short end of the stick for a while doesn’t mean it’s gonna be like that for the rest of our lives. We’re having our second chance right now, a real one this time, no one’s taking that for us.

Steve attempted to huff at that, but it just came out as a trembling breath, his fingers worrying at the hem of Bucky’s shirt. Bucky’s insides twinged as he pulled him closer, close enough for their bodies to tangle together, for Bucky to lean closer and trail his lips, as gently as possible, over the side of Steve’s face, up over his cheek, his temple, the shell of his ear, only stopping there to speak.

“We’ve been done fighting for a while,” Bucky said softly. “It’s our cue to do whatever we want now.”

Steve’s breath was warm against Bucky’s skin, and his expression was still so raw, so open when Bucky pulled back to look at him. “I’ve been telling myself something like that for a while now,” he said. “Trying to, at least.”

Even though Bucky knew his own words were true, there was still that small part of him wondering how much longer it would be until someone yanked the rug out from under his feet, snatched the peace right out of his hands, and Steve feeling the same just meant they had to dig their heels in and persist against it. 

The past had its markings on both of them, in ways both big and small. Steve’s aversion to the cold and to deep water, the nightmares that still persisted. Bucky had his own gripes with the cold, but the feelings of restraint, of feeling confined in any way made him feel like he could practically choke on his own memories. His own nightmares weren’t kind to him, but he wasn’t unable to discern them from reality. He’d been alert since the moment his head emerged from an oily, debris-ridden river with Steve in his arms.

Here in the present, Steve was trying to both steel himself and to stop doing so at the same time—a small, private war happening right before Bucky’s eyes. “I know it’s not like I can flip a switch and stop thinking about it for good,” he said. “I know that, but it’s just hard not to think about sometimes.”

“Steve, I doubt it’s ever gonna be easy,” Bucky said. “All we can do is find our own way through it. Make it up as we go. Ain’t like there’s a guidebook for this.”

Steve’s smile was a little distant as he shook his head. “No, no there’s not,” he said. “Maybe making our own rules for it is the best thing after all.”

It was certainly on Bucky’s mind. After they’d both been under some form of control for so long, it was high time that he and Steve called the shots, and if that included focusing on what was ahead for now, Bucky was prepared to jump at it. “So, if that’s the case,” he began. “What’s on the agenda for the rest of tonight?”

“Just more of what we were doing, I think,” Steve said, leaning in until their noses brushed together. “Getting back to it sounds good to me.”

“I think I can work with that,” Bucky said, and before he suggested anything else, he tried to stay sober. Just for a moment. “Don’t feel like you gotta bottle it up if something else is on your mind, though. Whatever‘s eating you, you gotta tell me. I’m not just gonna sit here while you deal with it on your own, and don’t think you’re gonna spoil anything by talking about it. Whether we’re here or anywhere or even once we’re back home. It’s not like we’re talking about anything small. This is our life, Steve. We’re gonna have to talk about it one way or another.”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but instead, he chose to press his lips against the corner of Bucky’s. “I know,” he murmured against his skin, breath just as warm but without a tremor this time around. “I know, Bucky.”

It was easy to curl an arm around Steve’s shoulders, to focus on nothing but their mingled breaths for a minute, and while it felt like a lifetime, Bucky was relieved to have him this close. To know his words were getting through, and that they could muddle through this in their own way, but then again, Bucky wouldn’t even call it muddling at this point. Both he and Steve were getting a feel for how to navigate this, to push through the currents and cresting waves that sometimes tried to drag them down.

All they could do was what they could, and now, that was taking it day by day.

“You wanna finish this movie or go to bed?” he asked after a while.

Steve raised his head, glancing over at the television and then back at Bucky. “I think I’m pretty comfortable where I am,” he said. “Unless you’re tapping out.”

Bucky shook his head. “It’s not that late,” he said. “I’ll even start another after this. I’m a night owl, sweetheart. It’s in my nature.”

“If you say so,” Steve said, and it seemed like they were already getting back to where they were just a short while ago. He turned onto his other side, keeping his back to Bucky and still sticking close.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky asked, winding his arm around Steve’s waist and pillowing the other beneath the pillow his own head was currently on.

“It just means I’m doubting you’ll make it through to the end,” Steve said, teasing. “You’ve fallen asleep during almost every movie we’ve ever seen together.”

“I was working twelve hour shifts back then, for your information,” Bucky said. “Back then, if you put me in a dark room for more than five minutes and it was only a matter of time before I was dead to the world.”

“So, what’s your excuse now?” Steve asked.

“Well, I’m still working, aren’t I?” Bucky said. “Plus we watch almost everything in bed, so I don’t think you can blame me for that one.”

He leaned in close to brush his lips against Steve’s hairline, working his way down until he found his lips again. “I’ll give you a free pass, then,” Steve said between kisses. “But back when you would start snoring in the middle of the theater, I was more than happy to pretend I didn’t know you.”

That had some truth to it. 

Well, it had plenty of truth, actually. Bucky had snored himself awake during plenty of movies and woke up to at least five people giving him dirty looks for disrupting their night out. The worst instance might have been the night Bucky was on a date with some girl he barely remembered, and he woke up to find that not only was the movie over, but he also didn’t have a date anymore. Steve had run that joke into the ground when Bucky told him what happened, and told him he’d probably fall asleep exchanging his wedding vows.

Well, Bucky proved him wrong, didn’t he?

“Any more lip out of you and you’re not getting any presents,” Bucky said. “So watch it, mister.”

It was enough to get Steve properly smiling again, and that made Bucky feel a little more at ease. From there, they tried to get back into the movie, rewinding everything they missed and getting comfortable all over again. With the warmth of Steve’s body pressed close to his own, the fire roaring on, and how easy it was to just sink into the soft, worn leather of the couch, Bucky found himself relaxing quite easily. He laced his fingers with Steve’s and kept his eyes on the screen for a while, but the movie didn’t make a lot of sense, if you asked him. It jumped around too much, and Bucky wondered what the hype was all about for a movie so…

Another long blink, and the movie was over.

So, maybe Steve was onto something, but the joke was on him since he was sleeping like a log himself. Bucky would have found it funny if he hadn’t just opened his eyes. He glanced at the clock, finding they’d been asleep for more than two hours.

“Steve,” he said, giving him a gentle shake. “Come on, big guy, we’re better off sleeping in an actual bed from here on out.”

Steve made a displeased noise. “Wasn’t sleeping,” he mumbled, cheek pressed against the couch cushion. “Just closin’ my eyes.”

“Well, you can keep closing ‘em for as long as you want once we go upstairs,” Bucky said. “Let’s get going.”

Steve rose slowly, rolling his neck on his shoulders, and Bucky followed him up. Thankfully, the lights were still on. Bucky would really rather not fall down on his way up the stairs. He barely had a clue how he would get down them in the morning, since he barely had the brain to walk into the living room some days.

Still, he and Steve managed to deal with the spiraling staircase, and soon enough, they were in their room. Bucky was relieved that all he had to do was climb into bed, and after killing the lights, that was exactly what he did.

“Oh my God,” Steve murmured as he got under the covers. “We’re getting one of these. Whatever it is. Feels so nice.”

“First the couch, now the bed,” Bucky joked, coming closer to let Steve rest his head against his chest. “Next thing you’re gonna want is to move out here.”

Steve hummed. “Maybe one day,” he mumbled. “It’s pretty nice.”

Once Bucky had gotten his brain working well enough to process that, to even think of asking Steve to elaborate, it turned out he was already asleep again, breathing turned soft and deep.

Even though Bucky wasn’t far off himself, it was hard not to think of what Steve had said as he drifted back into sleep. Brooklyn was home, but there was a whole world for them to explore, to think about establishing new roots in if they really wanted to. Or, maybe they’d just find somewhere that was a temporary escape, just like this. Anywhere they wanted.

The world was their oyster, after all, just like Bucky always said.

-

Bucky woke up to snow.

It was falling heavily outside, thick flakes falling down rapidly, which meant it would inevitably stick, but the cabin was stocked in case it turned out to be a storm and they had nowhere to be, anyway. It was the perfect excuse to spend the whole day in bed, and if that didn’t sound like a perfect way to kick off the day…

He rolled over and reached out, hoping to find Steve beside him, but the bed was empty. The bathroom sink was running, and Bucky was about to give him privacy before he remembered there was a second one, so up he went, needing desperately to scrub the tiredness off his face.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Steve said around his toothbrush, which made it come out partly garbled.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Bucky said, feeling like he had a throat full of gravel. “Sugar plum.”

He had a feeling Steve would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t busy gargling. Bucky pulled his hair up before he splashed his face with cold water, sudsing up his hands and giving himself a good scrub.

“Hey, I was gonna ask,” Steve said, much clearer now. “What do you want for breakfast? We have plenty of options, so the choice is yours.”

“I’ll help you figure out the waffle maker if you want,” Bucky said after lifting his head. He dried his face off, then grabbed his toothbrush and squeezed a bit of toothpaste over it. “Just gotta give me a second.”

“No rush,” Steve said, and Bucky watched from the mirror as he came closer and left a kiss on Bucky’s cheek even as he brushed his teeth. “Meet me downstairs?”

“Copy that,” Bucky managed to say. It was hard not to return the smile, to stifle it even when Steve left and headed downstairs. He wanted to bring him right back up, but there would be plenty of time for that later on.

He finished up, made his own way downstairs, and found Steve in the kitchen, already preparing the box of waffle mix in a large bowl. “You wanna do the honors?” Steve asked. “I’ve used one before so I can tell you what to do.”

“As long as you can take care of the coffee,” Bucky said. “My head feels like it’s gonna fall off.”

“I’ll help you glue it back on if it does,” Steve said, nudging his side gently as he moved past him. “You can handle that thing, right?”

“It’s a waffle maker, Steve,” Bucky said. “If I can fly a helicopter, I can figure this thing out.”

The coffee brewed and flooded the kitchen with its familiar smell, soon joined by the smell of blueberry waffles and sizzling bacon, all of which were soon taken to the dining table by one of the enormous windows, leaving them looking out at the falling snow all the while. The food was good, the coffee was just the way Bucky liked it, and with Steve this close, this content in their little pocket of the world, he felt more than content. He was peaceful.

-

The snow stopped in the afternoon, and wouldn’t start start up again until midnight, but it was still too cold and too snowy to bother doing anything else but going right back up to bed a while later, and while Steve didn’t need much help keeping warm this time around, he was definitely inclined for more, and more, until there was nothing else for either of them to do but clean up.

“Think the tub has jacuzzi jets?” Bucky asked. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed again, and didn’t plan to for quite a while, but Steve seemed to have the same idea aside from wearing Bucky’s stolen robe. He had half a mind to get Steve one of his own, but there was something about him wearing it, and Bucky wasn’t about to snatch that opportunity away from either of them.

“Guess it’s about time we checked,” Steve said before turning the faucets on. Bucky tossed him a bottle of bath gel and he squeezed some inside, which instantly left bubbles forming at the bottom. They left it to run, remaking the bed and throwing their clothes into the small hamper they’d brought along. Bucky was tempted to fix himself another drink, so he gave into pulling on a pair of shorts before going to do just that, and mixing one up for Steve while he was at it. He was relieved he’d bought the little bottle of gin at the grocery store. It had always been Steve’s poison of choice, no matter how it was served, and seltzer and lime was a no brainer despite it not being festive. 

Besides, there was no luck finding eggnog, so making do was about all Bucky could do.

By the time he was back in the bathroom, the tub was half-full and nearly overflowing with bubbles. He tested the temperature and found it almost a touch too warm, but that would end up being perfect. He’d rather have a hot bath than a cold one.

Steve abandoned his stolen robe and stepped past Bucky to get into the tub, and he did so with a groan. “And you were gonna make me go outside to do this?” he said. “Yeah, no. I’m good here. Really good.”

“Now I’m worried that I’m just gonna end up spoiling you,” Bucky said, handing his drink over. He set his own on the edge of the tub before sitting down, turning to slide inside himself. “How am I gonna take you back home now?”

Steve smiled over the rim of his glass before he took a sip. “Guess you’ll just have to bring me back here sometime,” he said. “We can start making a tradition out of it.”

Bucky lowered himself down into the water, which immediately loosened his muscles up, working in tandem with the whiskey. “No complaints from me,” he said. “I don’t think I’d pass up on coming back. ‘Specially knowing it’s this good.”

Steve abandoned his drink to come up close to Bucky, water sloshing around him as he did. “It can’t get much better than this, if you ask me,” he murmured.

“Is that a challenge?” Bucky said, sliding his hand up Steve’s back and tracing his fingers over hot, soapy skin. “Because I have a whole week to one up tonight, just so you know.”

“I’m just saying I’m pretty happy like this,” Steve said. “Today’s been…it’s been incredible, Buck.”

The kiss they found themselves leaning into was slow, dripping with warmth. Steve tasted a little like gin, like the sourness of lime, and that only made Bucky deepen the kiss. He felt Steve’s hands settle at his chest, fingers splaying out there. He let himself be pulled even closer, let Bucky wrap his arms around his waist and pull him to sit on his thighs, and he only hummed as Bucky’s hands began to wander all over again, just as they’d been doing for nearly the entire day.

“You plan on actually getting clean in here?” Steve asked, a soft laugh lacing his words. His head tilted back, throat bared as Bucky trailed his lips slowly over the smooth skin there.

Bucky made a noncommittal sound into his skin. “Eventually,” he murmured. “Maybe.”

Steve sighed, almost pleasantly. “I’m willing to wait,” he said. “More than willing.”

It was so easy, falling right back into mapping out Steve’s body with just Bucky’s own hands and his lips. Having him here just like this was making Bucky feel dizzy with bliss all over again.

-

They stood in the warmth of the bath until some of the bubbles began to disappear, and after they dried off and changed, Bucky only left the bedroom to set their glasses in the kitchen sink. He was back a moment later, and he had no qualms about getting right back into bed. It was late enough that there was no point in doing anything else, and diving into the softness of the blankets all over again with Steve was too tempting to pass up.

He smelled fresh, skin smooth under Bucky’s lips. He didn’t move with much intention, just slowly taking the time to savor everything laid out beneath him. They seemed to be done for the night, and just taking some time to breathe before they inevitably fell asleep was all Bucky could bring himself to think about, anyway.

When Bucky shut the lights off, he lifted his arm to give Steve the space he needed to curl against Bucky’s chest, to be held close. His damp hair tickled under Bucky’s chin, but it was so hard to focus on anything else by then that it didn’t matter. They barely had any time to talk before sleep finally claimed them, and it washed over Bucky slowly, like waves lapping over his body.

-

There was more snow in the morning, falling even heavier than before, and when Bucky dragged his bleary eyes over to the clock on the nightstand, he found that it was barely seven o’clock, so going back to sleep a moment later was a given. This time, he reached out and found Steve, who almost immediately shifted himself closer all over again.

“Should we get up?” Steve asked, muffled between the blankets and his lips pressed against the crook of Bucky’s neck.

“Too early for that,” Bucky managed to croak. “Get some sleep, honey.”

Steve’s breathing evened out only a few seconds later, and Bucky followed him right back down into the warm darkness he’d initially left behind.

-

When he woke up the second time around, Steve was still barely able to keep his eyes open, heavy as he met Bucky’s. “Hey,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, doll,” Bucky said, draping his arm around him and shifting until they were close again, foreheads brushing together. “You sleep okay?”

Steve hummed softly in response, leaning forward to seal their lips together in a soft, lazy kiss. “‘M glad we went back to sleep, I know that,” he said. “Feels like I don’t know how not to wake up early on Christmas morning. It’s like you’re just wired for it.”

“Remember you and your ma came to stay with us one year?” Bucky asked. “She slept in the room I shared with the girls and all of us kids were crammed into the living room.”

“God, yeah,” Steve said. “It was during that big snow storm. Our pipes froze up and the power was on the fritz. That was probably one of the first times I realized how similar you and your ma were, ‘cause she right came over and somehow she got her to agree to staying over. I’m glad she did, I think it was the best Christmas we could have asked for.”

They were young when that storm rolled through the city. Eleven and twelve while the girls were practically babies, all insisting to sleep in the living room because they were so worried about missing out on any fun. They piled blankets and couch cushions out on the floor and since it was so cold, even with the wood stove burning, they had no qualms about sticking close together.

Bucky wished there were pictures from that night, or the morning that followed, but the Barnes family didn’t get their hands on a camera until Bucky was about sixteen, and it was passed around between Bucky, Jean, Dolores, Rebecca, and Steve as the years went on, which meant they had plenty, plenty that the Smithsonian still had their hands on and finally coughed up when Steve and Bucky made a stink about it.

The only Christmas picture is back in Brooklyn, framed like all their other photos. It’s all three girls standing by the Christmas tree with Steve and Bucky standing right behind them. It’s far from perfect since Jean is looking one way, Bucky seemed to be saying something to his pop behind the camera, and Steve was trying to move into another pose, but these days, if you ask Bucky, it is perfect. These days, he could look at that picture and still smell the dinner simmering in the kitchen, the bright sweetness of the orange that was always gifted to all four Barnes kids, or according to his folks, five since Steve had long since become part of the family.

“Us too,” Bucky said, a slow smile pulling at his lips. “Probably the loudest Christmas we’ve ever had on top of everything else.”

It made Steve laugh, and Bucky found himself doing the same. “I gotta say that the last thing I ever expected was my ma to dance,” he said. “And you were the only one who could keep up with her.”

“See, this is why I don’t know why you insisted you had two left feet,” Bucky said. “I know you can do more than a little more than a one step, pal. One of these days I’ll finally get it out of you.”

“I can slow dance, isn’t that enough?” Steve asked, far more awake and leaning up on his elbow.

“It’s enough for now,” Bucky said, reaching forward to poke him in the side before sitting up himself. “You win, I’ll leave it on the backburner. I’m more concerned about getting coffee right now.”

“That I can second,” Steve said. “But maybe in a little while, I’m still pretty comfy.”

Bucky was about to speak, but when Steve leaned forward to curl against him once more, it didn’t really matter. The bed was too comfortable to get out of, and they still had the entire morning ahead. Why shouldn’t they take advantage of it?

Ultimately, that was what they did, taking a little extra time to wake up and sticking close as they did so.

-

Later, after they finally made the journey downstairs and put a pot of coffee on, they made breakfast and ate it in front ot the TV. It ended up being more waffles and bacon, but with how peaceful the morning was, Bucky would have been happy having just about anything. They finished, left their plates in the sink, and after a moment of getting their heads together, they made their way over to the tree.

They’d had the same tradition for as long as Bucky can remember, picking out the first gift they each spotted and then opened them at the same time. That persisted throughout the years, and even during what they thought was their last Christmas together, they managed to make it happen, even if it was just trading a couple of chocolate bars and wool socks.

Now, they had all the time in the world to continue the tradition, to make it bigger and better every time, so why not start with the biggest boxes at hand and work their way down this time around?

They sat down on the floor by the tree, sliding each present out and passing them over to each other. When Steve slid two over, Bucky’s brows knit together, but Steve shrugged at it.

“That’s part of the gift,” he said. “Can’t really have one without the other.”

That could mean almost anything, and Bucky’s curiosity was instantly piqued. “Guess I’ll see what it is in a minute,” he said. “I’m ready when you are. Just give me the go sign.”

Steve smiled from one corner of his mouth. His eyes looked bright in the pale morning sun streaming through the windows, in the rainbow of lights on the tree beside him. “Go,” he said.

Go they did, pulling the wrapping paper off and keeping their eyes on the present only. Bucky’s felt heavy, and as the last of the paper came off, he realized why.

Evidently, they both had the past on their minds, and both had the grand idea of bringing it to the present.

“Jesus, Steve,” he breathed out. “When did you get this thing?”

It was a record player, and while it seemed to double as a speaker, Bucky was far more surprised at holding one. He was never able to afford one of his own and even with three working people, neither was his family, but now here he was, holding one in his hands.

“A little while back,” Steve said, looking utterly pleased with himself. “Go ahead, open the other one.”

Bucky had an idea of what might be inside, but it was still thrilling to pull the paper back and see vinyl after vinyl stacked on top of each other, each one as good as the last. Billie Holliday, Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington, Artie Shaw, and then a Chet Baker was the last to reveal itself, a newfound favorite that made Bucky grin.

“Look at you,” Bucky said. “Knowin’ me this well.”

“Do you like it?” Steve asked.

“Love it,” Bucky said, leaning over to kiss him. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Steve repeated, smiling against Bucky’s lips. “And I just might dance with you if you play one of these.”

Bucky was tempted to get it working now rather than later, but he still had the entire day to do it. There would be time for music, time for dancing after they finished opening their presents.

“I’m holding you to that, just so you know,” Bucky said. “Now come on, keep opening that up, huh?”

The box was only half unwrapped, so Steve did indeed continue, peeling the paper back until he found the wooden box underneath and gave Bucky a curious look before he opened it.

Steve's expression immediately changed as he did so, his smile broadening until he beamed. “Bucky,” he laughed. “Bucky, are you kidding me?”

“Look, I couldn’t get it for you when you first had your eyes on it,” Bucky said. “And somehow, I found it all over again, so sorry if it’s a little late and that it ain’t exactly the same, but—”

Steve tugged him forward and sealed their lips together in a kiss that seemed to say it all, radiating so much warmth that Bucky knew, in the end, that this was the right gift after all. He set his hand at Steve’s nape, thumb smoothing over his hairline.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Steve murmured after breaking the kiss, breath warm against Bucky’s skin..

“That’s what they tell me,” Bucky said, not caring how dazed he sounded. His head was spinning in the best possible way, nothing but warmth thrumming through his blood. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Buck,” Steve said.

It might have been the best Christmas they’d ever had.