Bucky was exhausted. He had only just gotten home late last night from a weeklong mission and Steve had gotten up early this morning to get started on all the food before everyone came over. Sure, he offered to let Bucky sleep in, but knowing how hard Steve was working, all just to feed mostly his friends, Bucky couldn’t just not do anything. He couldn’t complain though, tired as he was, it was nice being able to spend some time alone with Steve in the kitchen before everyone got there. And if it took a little longer than normal to get everything ready because they kept getting distracted kissing or laughing with each other, well that was their business. They were just reunited after a week apart after all.
As Bucky pulls each finished dish out of the oven, Steve brings it over to stage it on their sturdy, dark wooden table with the rest of the goodies they’ve prepared for dinner. Steve cooks for them often, but they don’t really get to go all out like this often, especially with Bucky disappearing on missions so often, so he spends a little extra time trying to make everything as perfect as possible not just for Bucky and himself but Sam and Natasha who will be there soon as well. Steve knows how they all run themselves into the ground on missions and just wants them all to have a nice, normal holiday for once. As Steve sets the last plate, the giant tray of turkey, in the center of the table and finishes rearranging all of the dishes on the table to perfectly frame it, he feels two familiar thick arms wrap their way snuggly around his lithe waist.
“You were right.” Bucky whispers, pulling Steve’s back flush against his sturdy chest, flesh fingers moving up to run through his messy, sandy locks. “It was good to get started so early. Now everything is done, and we still actually have a little time just to ourselves before Sam and Nat get here.”
Steve hums, turning his head to look up at Bucky over his shoulder. “And what exactly did you want to do with our extra time?” He teases, bringing one hand up to cup Bucky’s freshly shaved face.
“I’m sure we can think of something.” Bucky grins before leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips.
They jump apart at the sound of a knock on the door. Bucky groans.
“Go away!” He calls out as the door opens.
“Ooh were we interrupting something?” Natasha struts in, smirking. “Don’t let us stop you.”
She’s trailed in by Sam, carrying a small, wrapped pie container.
“Happy Thanksgiving, guys!” Sam calls, shutting the door behind him.
“Happy Thanksgiving.” Steve says with a smile, separating himself from Bucky’s grasp to take the pie from Sam. “I told you not to bring anything.” He scolds.
“Oh well.” Sam teases, pulling Steve in for a quick hug. “My mom raised me better than to show up empty-handed. It’s pecan by the way.”
“Well, thank you, Sam, but you didn’t have to do that.” Steve says, putting it on the counter with the other desserts for later.
“How are you guys doing?” Bucky asks, pulling Natasha in for a quick squeeze.
“Good.” She smiles. “Excited for a good home-cooked meal.” She softens, pulling Steve in for a hug as well. “Thank you, Steve, for the invite.”
“Anytime, guys. You know that.” Steve blushes, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck shyly.
Bucky can’t help but smile at the sight.
Ever since he had met the introverted artist two years ago, he had been taking care of not only him, but his two closest friends as well. He’s not sure how he had gotten so lucky as to, quite literally, run into him in Central Park that warm Spring day, but he would always be grateful he had. Steve had been scouting a location to get set up to paint for the afternoon and Bucky had been out for a run to clear his head when he ran smack into the much smaller man, sending him straight into the pavement, art supplies scattering in all directions. Bucky apologized profusely, offering him a hand getting up, but Steve, in his typical grumpy fashion, pulled himself up, dusted himself off, and proceeded to tell Bucky off for not watching where he was going. Under any other circumstances, the sight of the short, scrawny blonde yelling up into the face of a terrifying former assassin would have been hilarious, but Bucky was instantly taken by his ocean blue eyes and fiery attitude. Well, he always was a sweet talker and, somehow, he got Steve blushing and convinced him to let him buy him a coffee as an apology, and the rest is history.
Bucky remembers that day fondly, can barely even remember anymore what he did, what they all did, before Steve was around to fuss over them. His smile grows as they sit down to eat, and he looks around at their little found family. He knows he owes Sam and Natasha a lot for always having his six in the field, for helping him learn to be a person again, but he doesn’t think he could ever pay Steve back for everything he’s done for him- treating him like a normal person, treating him with so much kindness and love, even when he wasn’t sure he deserved it. He’s his home. Bucky’s sure this man will own his heart for forever if he wants it. He wants to ask him, to take that step and make them family officially, but he’s been waiting for the perfect time. He thinks tonight, surrounded by the closest thing to a family either of them has left, might be the perfect time. They’ve just got to get through this beautiful meal Steve has prepared for them first.
Making their way over to the table, they all listen attentively as Steve fills them in on the huge commission he’s just accepted and can’t wait to start working on. He’d been approached by a toy company to draw up some comics to accompany a new line of original hero action figures they wanted to roll out.
“That’s amazing!” Sam beams, filling up his plate with the huge assortment of food.
“You must be proud.” Natasha smirks at Bucky, sitting down beside him with her full plate.
“You have no idea.” Bucky melts, turning his round-eyed gaze back to Steve, and the blush working its way down his neck.
“Okay, well thank you, but enough about me.” Steve chuckles, taking his seat beside Sam, across from Bucky. “Dig in, guys. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m glad everyone was able to make it.”
“Happy Thanksgiving!” They all raise their glasses in a toast.
They get about two bites into their meal when Natasha’s phone goes off, the specific beeping tone indicating that it’s SHIELD, and important.
“I’m sorry, guys. They need us. It’s urgent.” She bites her lip, looking around apologetically.
Bucky watches the disappointment flash across Steve’s face before he immediately masks it with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Bucky’s heart aches.
“You guys want to just take your food to go then? I’d hate for it to go to waste.” He offers, standing to start grabbing plates.
“No time.” Natasha softens. “I’m so sorry, Steve. You went to all this trouble…”
“Hey, no, it’s fine.” There’s that fake smile again. “I’m just sorry you guys have to go.”
“We’ll get together again soon.” Sam offers. “And seriously, thank you, man. I know we didn’t get to properly enjoy it all, but what I had was amazing.”
“We’ll suit up at HQ.” Natasha says to Sam and Bucky. “We gotta get moving.”
“We’ll give you two a minute.” Sam squeezes Steve’s shoulder as he passes, following Natasha to the door.
“Meet us outside.” She nods in agreement.
Bucky is up and at Steve’s side as soon as the door clicks shut.
“I am so sorry, sunshine.” He frowns.
“I’m fine.” Steve says blankly. “I just can’t believe they’re calling you back out. You just got home.” He pouts up at Bucky.
“I know.” Bucky sighs. “Stupid of me to think I could enjoy a nice full day home with you.” He pulls Steve into a tight embrace.
“Hey, Buck?” Steve whispers into Bucky’s chest.
“Yeah, honey?” He pulls back just enough to look down at Steve.
“If… If I asked you to do something for me… Would you?” He bites his lip.
“Anything. You know that.” Bucky responds with a nod.
“Even… Even if I asked you to step back from active duty a little?” He won’t meet Bucky’s gaze.
“Steve-”
“I’m not saying retire completely if you don’t want to.” Steve quickly clarifies. “Just… Maybe ask them to send you out less. Only on like super important things they really need you for. They do have other agents, right?”
“Steve… It’s not that simple. I can’t just do that.” Bucky explains.
“Why not? Bucky, they send you out all the time and you don’t even seem to enjoy it very much. You’re always miserable after missions, and lately they’ve been getting longer, and you’re home less time in between. It’s just getting out of hand. I think you should say something.”
“I can’t!” Bucky snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Steve pulls away, hurt expression swimming in his deep blue gaze.
“I’m sorry.” Bucky sighs. “It’s just… I can’t. All those things I did as the Winter Soldier… I’m still making up for it all. Sure, I don’t love going out on missions, and I know it won’t erase everything I’ve done, but at least now I can do some good.”
“Bucky…” Steve softens. “You know none of that was your fault. You don’t owe society some great debt over things you had no control over. Honey, you’ve done so much good, even just in the time I’ve known you, let alone before that… You’re a hero, Buck.” He pulls Bucky back into a hug, only to feel him tense.
“I’m no hero, Stevie. Far from it.”
“But-”
“Look, I better get going before Natasha comes back in here and drags me out by the hair.” He pulls away from Steve’s warm embrace with a tight-lipped frown. “I love you.” He presses a quick kiss to his forehead as he starts for the door, grabbing his phone from the entranceway table on the way.
Steve stays silent, watching him walk away with a sigh.
Bucky shoots him one last look over his shoulder as he opens the door. “I am sorry about dinner. Happy Thanksgiving, honey.” And like that, he’s gone.
Steve shakes his head as he starts on putting all the food away and cleaning the dishes and the kitchen up, appetite gone. He’ll at least have enough leftovers to keep him fed for a while.
An hour later he gets a text from Bucky.
Should be a quick one. Few days tops. Text when we’re on our way back.
It’s not much, but he knows it’s all Bucky is allowed to share with him right now.
Be safe. All of you. He sends back.
We will. Sorry again. Love you.
Steve sighs before texting back. I love you too.
As expected, Bucky doesn’t respond again, probably already on his way to wherever they’re being sent, if not there already. Steve cuts himself a giant slice of pie and then gets ready for bed. He can handle a few days.
. . .
A few days turns into almost a month and it’s Christmas Eve before anyone could see it coming. Steve has heard from Bucky only once since the night he left. On December first he got one text that simply said: Mission running much longer than expected. Everyone is fine. Don’t know when we’ll be home.
Steve had tried texting back, but never received a response. He knows Bucky is good at what he does, knows Sam and Natasha are too, and that the three of them would never let anything happen to one another, but going so long without any kind of information from anyone, it was hard not to worry. To keep his mind from wandering, he had thrown himself head first into his work for the toy company, and, when his fears would scream too loudly in his head once he was alone at home, he would distract himself by obsessively getting everything ready for Christmas.
Steve had always loved Christmas. Growing up the sickly child of a poor single-mother, they were never able to afford to do much for the holiday, but she always tried to make the day as special as she could for them. It was the one day a year she, as a nurse, would always make sure to be home to spend the day with him. They had a scrawny little fake tree they would put in the corner of their small Brooklyn apartment’s living room, by the window, and they would decorate it with their own homemade ornaments. His mom would scrape together whatever she could to make them a nicer meal than they would normally splurge on and they’d end the night with her famous apple pie before going to mass. After his mom had died, Steve still tried to at least put up some decorations, but without any family or any friends close enough to spend the holiday with, it was never the same. Since meeting Bucky, his love for Christmas finally had an outlet again and he would always try to make things nice for them, he figured they both deserved it.
This year, Steve had gone more all out for Christmas than ever before, splurging on a large tree and a ton of ornaments and other decorations. He had good money coming in from his project with the toy company, not to mention that Bucky made way more than enough to sustain them, and it kept him from worrying for too long about the mission if his hands were occupied. Plus, he thought it might be a nice surprise for Bucky to come home to, but as Christmas drew nearer, he began to lose hope that he’d get to see his lover for Christmas at all.
Even if Bucky didn’t make it back in time for the actual holiday itself, Steve would hold off on making the nice dinner he had gotten all the ingredients for for when he returned. Plus, Bucky could always open his gift whenever he came back, and oh, was Steve excited to give him that.
Steve had been at the toy company for a meeting when the idea struck. Ever since Bucky left, he had been replaying that last conversation on repeat in his head. I’m no hero, Stevie. Bucky’s broken voice echoed, tugging at Steve’s heartstrings. Determined to prove him wrong, he had approached one of his contacts at the toy company with his idea and, surprisingly, everyone there was so pleased with Steve’s work so far, they had agreed to make it happen for him. So, after drawing up some designs and handing the rest over to the professionals, Steve was anxious to pick up the finished product on his way out. That’s how Steve ended up walking back to their apartment in the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Eve with a one-of-a-kind Bucky Barnes action figure in hand, pleased grin plastered on his face.
Closing the apartment door behind him, Steve put the action figure down on the coffee table in the living room before taking off his coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and boots and putting them away in the hall closet. He keeps his eyes peeled for any signs of Bucky as he makes his way down the hall to their room to get changed, but, of course, is met with silence and the apartment in the exact same state as when he left. He tries to convince himself he’s not disappointed, normally he’s good at that, but he thinks he’s allowed to feel sorry for himself just this once that his boyfriend is God only knows where on Christmas Eve and he can’t even contact him. He sends up a silent prayer that Bucky and their friends are at least safe and not in too much danger, before heading back to the kitchen.
He’s saving their nice big Christmas dinner for when Bucky is home, so he just reheats some leftovers from the fridge and takes them into the living room with a mug of hot cocoa. Getting all bundled up on the couch with a blanket and his food and mug, he turns on White Christmas, another Sarah Rogers tradition. He’s not sure when he dozes off, but next thing he knows he’s opening his eyes to the final song of the movie.
Once the movie ends, he stands up and stretches, his back popping loudly, before taking his used dishes into the kitchen to clean up. He puts on the radio while he does the dishes and quietly hums along to the comforting holiday carols. As he puts the last of the dishes away, the familiar opening of the Carpenters’ “Merry Christmas, Darling” start to come through the radio.
Greeting cards have all been sent.
The Christmas rush is through.
But I still have one wish to make,
A special one for you.
He sits down in his normal chair at the kitchen table hard.
Merry Christmas, darling.
We’re apart, that’s true.
But I can dream, and in my dreams, I’m Christmas-ing with you.
He hadn’t let himself think about how much he’s missed Bucky this whole Christmas season, how hard it’s been to try to force himself into the Christmas spirit without him here, but now, without any distraction left, it all hits him at once full-force. Who knows where Bucky is, or what he’s doing, let alone when he’ll get to come home? Steve is very familiar with Bucky being gone on missions often, but this is the first time he’s ever been gone so long, and, especially with no contact, it’s difficult not to dwell on how much he worries about him, and how empty their apartment feels in his absence.
I’ve just one wish on this Christmas Eve.
I wish I were with you.
I wish I were with you.
(merry, merry, merry Christmas. Merry Christmas, darling.)
By the end of the song, Steve can feel himself tearing up a little, and that just won’t do. Wallowing won’t bring Bucky home, nor will it be good for him. Looking at the time, Steve decides to just head to bed early. He’s not exactly filled with a ton of Christmas cheer right now, and without Bucky home there’s not anything terribly exciting to do anyway.
Turning off the radio, he heads back into the living room to shut off the TV and all the lights, pausing to take a look at the beautiful Christmas tree he put together this year. It’s a shame it was kind of all for nothing, he thinks bitterly. He grabs the Bucky action figure before shutting the hall light and heading into their room.
He puts the action figure down on his night table while he quickly gets ready for bed, opting for just a pair of boxers and one of Bucky’s sweaters for pajamas. Turning off the overhead light, he climbs into bed and gets comfortable. He rolls over to turn off the lamp on his night table but freezes as he comes face to face with the Bucky action figure. He stares at it for a long minute with a bittersweet smile.
“God, you look life-like.” He whispers with a chuckle. “If you were bigger, you would have startled me for a second there.”
He looks over every detail of the figurine, hesitantly picking it up and running a finger over its tiny plastic face. He knows he needs to wrap it, but Bucky isn’t here right now, probably won’t be there in the morning either, so he can just do it tomorrow. For now, it’s kind of comforting just to look at it.
“Hope you’re alright, Buck. Wherever you are.” He tells the figurine, as if it’s actually Bucky listening. “I know it’s not your fault, but I’m going a little crazy here, pal. It’s not normal for you to be gone so long and not reach out at all. I just miss you…” He sighs.
A moment later he shakes his head to clear it.
“Look at me. Talking to a damn children’s toy.” He laughs. “You’re losing it, Rogers.”
He puts the action figure back on his night table and reaches for the lamp again.
“Merry Christmas, darling.” He whispers, shooting the action figure one last glance. “I love you.” He turns off the lamp and rolls over to get some sleep.
. . .
It’s 2:34 AM when Bucky gets to the apartment. He knows Steve must be in bed by now. He’s exhausted himself, but he jumped at the chance to come home as fast as possible, not even willing to wait until morning. Normally he would have texted Steve to let him know he was on his way, but he wasn’t sure if he was awake or not by the time he was en route. Plus, he figured it might be a nice Christmas surprise for him to wake up and find Bucky home.
He tries to put his boots and jacket in the hall closet and make his way to their bedroom as silently as possible, leaving his bag by the door to unpack in the morning. He had showered and changed at HQ, so all he needed to do was get ready for bed. He can see Steve curled up in their bed, pouting in his sleep, and his heart constricts. Steve is always a sight for sore eyes, especially after such a long mission, but something about seeing the normally prickly petite blonde curled up in one of Bucky’s sweaters just makes the image sweeter to him. Without making a sound, he quickly removes his jeans, shirt, and socks, dropping them by his bag to deal with in the morning. Left in just his boxers, he tries to climb into bed without disturbing Steve, but as he tries to pull some of their comforter over, he sees a blonde head stick up.
“Bucky?” Comes Steve’s sleep-muffled whisper.
Well, he’s been caught. “Yeah, sunshine. I’m home.” He whispers back with a fond smile.
Steve sits up quickly, suddenly alert, and turns on the lamp on his bedside table.
“When did you get back?” He asks, giving Bucky a thorough onceover that he knows is just Steve checking him for any sign of injury.
“Just now.” Bucky smiles, “And I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“Sam and Nat?”
“Also fine. Dead tired, but fine.” Bucky reassures him. “So, can I have a welcome home kiss now?”
After one last hesitant glance, Steve smiles, crawling closer to Bucky and wrapping his arms tightly around his muscular middle before looking up to kiss him.
“I missed you.” Steve admits.
“I know, honey.” Bucky offers him a sad smile. “I’m sorry I was gone so long and for the radio silence. It was just supposed to be a milk-run to gather some intel, but we ended up having to go undercover and… Well, you know that’s really all I can say for now. But I promise we were okay the whole time and I was thinking about you every day.”
“It’s okay. You’re here now.” Steve gives him a sleepy smile. “Best Christmas gift ever.”
“Speaking of…” Bucky smirks. “It looks like Winter Wonderland in our living room” He laughs. “You’ve been busy, huh?”
“Got bored.” Steve shrugs, blush creeping up.
“Ah. Well, it looks great, sweetheart. Merry Christmas, Stevie.” He places a sweet kiss to the top of the blonde’s head.
“Merry Christmas, Buck.” Steve smiles, squeezing him a little tighter.
Bucky settles down into a more comfortable position, pulling Steve all but on top of him, before reaching over to turn off the lamp when he pauses.
“What’s this?” He asks, eyeing the action figure on the night table.
“Oh no!” Steve sits up, pushing Bucky back to his side of the bed. “That’s your Christmas present. You weren’t supposed to see it yet.”
“Well it’s Christmas. And I’ve seen it already.” Bucky smirks. “So, what is it?”
Steve sighs. “Alright. Well…” He picks up the action figure hesitantly, suddenly anxious that maybe Bucky won’t like it. “Well it’s a little cheesy now that I think about it. But I got you an action figure of… of yourself.”
“Stevie…” Bucky softens, taking the toy from Steve to examine it.
“I know it’s probably dumb.” Steve interrupts. “But I just kept thinking about what you said before you left about you not being a hero and I need you to know that’s so not true. Even if you don’t consider yourself one, even if no one else considers you one, I just… Buck, you’re my hero. I love you so much and even though I miss you like crazy when you’re gone, I see all the good you do and I just wish-“ Bucky cuts him off with a kiss that Steve responds to after only a second.
“Stevie. I don’t even know what to say. This is so thoughtful.” Bucky says, pulling back just enough to look Steve in the eye. “I love it, really I do. Where did you even get this? It looks so life-like.”
“I uh… I actually had it made for you at work.” Steve laughs nervously. “It’s a one-of-a-kind Rogers’ original design.”
Bucky is sure there must be hearts in his eyes as he looks from the toy back to Steve.
“I’m gonna retire.” He blurts out. “Well, semi-retire, I guess. No more missions unless absolutely necessary. Only consulting, or desk work, or… Whatever else will keep me here.” He clarifies.
“Are you sure?” Steve bites his lip. It’s what he wants, what he thinks would be best, but if it’s not what Bucky really wants, he doesn’t want him to do this just for him.
“I am.” Bucky nods. “You were right. They take a lot out of me, I hate being gone so much, and I… I don’t like having to fight. I’ve had to do it so much and I’m… I’m tired of it. And… God, Steve, I’ve realized, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. If I’m your hero, well that means the world to me, sweetheart, because you’re my world.”
“Always a sweet talker.” Steve shakes his head, sniffling against the threat of tears.
Bucky smiles at him fondly. “Come on, honey. Let’s get some sleep.” He places a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “We can talk about it more in the morning.”
Steve agrees and they get comfortably situated. Bucky places the action figure on his night table while Steve turns off the lamp on his and they meet back in the middle, Steve draping an arm over Bucky’s waist and resting his head on his chest, Bucky running his metal fingers up and down Steve’s spine.
“Thank you for my present, Stevie.” Bucky whispers. “I love it almost as much as I love you.”
“Mmmm I love you too.” Steve beams. “And I gotta say, you coming home and telling me you’re retiring? Best gift ever.”
Bucky’s smile grows as he thinks of the ring that’s been sitting in his sock drawer for months now. “Oh, I’ve got one more gift for ya, but you’ll get that tomorrow.”
Steve, already halfway asleep again, simply just nods in response. “Okay, Buck.” He yawns.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Bucky gives him one last kiss on the head. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, darling.” Steve mumbles, face buried in Bucky’s chest.