forty-one.
The last couple of weeks have been quiet, at both the apartment and the base. Bucky'd been walking around like a ghost in his own home. A shadow stuck in the old routine of his old life. Every morning he woke up and padded to the kitchen, had a cup of too-bitter coffee and a half-stale biscuit and begin his 85-year-old work out routine.
Today though was very, very different. Last night, Bucky never went to bed at all. He was up all night like he'd been all week.
Last night, though, he spent all of his time in the kitchen preparing a large breakfast, the room around him lit only by the colorful decorative lights that Steve insisted on stringing up in the Holiday Spirit. Natasha insisted on the small table-top tree, so they could at least say that they had one. Covering the floor around the tree was a stack of presents as tall as Bucky's hip. The bottom of the tree was hidden beneath the sparkling wrapping paper and twine.
The ornaments were a little old, leftover in a box of memories nobody'd opened in years. Old knickknacks covered in dust and sadness, forgotten in the ripple of time just like they once were. The box that Natalia found them in was old, bent in all of the wrong places and covered in a layer of dust so thick that the writing on the outside almost wasn't even legible anymore. The old penned cursive was faded, but Bucky knew Mrs. Rogers' handwriting anywhere.
Bucky turned his attention to the old standing radio in the corner. It was one of their nicer things, that radio was. It cost Bucky almost three months' worth of working the extra shifts down at the docks. He still remembers the first time he and Steve laid their eyes on it as they walked down the street, casually window shopping for things they knew they would never afford. He remembers how Steve's eyes lit up upon seeing the polished wood frame and the built-in turntable in the top.
He remembers spinning the lovely story to Steve about how he'd buy it for them and they'd spend their late nights dancing together in their tiny living room space to the sound of the old music. He remembers the day it became more than a story and Steve came home to the radio standing tall and proud and clean, wrapped with a single twine ribbon around the front of it, and the smile on Bucky's face. He remembers the first time they danced to the music together, awkwardly swaying together in the tight space they'd cleared to do so.
And now, it stands proudly once more, looking as good as new. And it basically was. Bucky's been having Stark repair it every day while Steve's been at work, and now that it's Christmas, he can unveil it to Steve as a working part of their past.
Bucky looked towards the bedroom when he saw Steve shuffling out of it with a tired smile on his face. He offered Steve a cup of coffee the way that he liked it and Steve thanked him with a kiss on the cheek before leaning against the slick new counter. Steve was in love with the new repairs and remodels they were making, and when they'd finally finished the kitchen, you'd think Steve had won the lottery with the way his eyes lit up over it.
Bucky said nothing as he and Steve sipped their drinks, only speaking once their cups were empty. He pointed to the ceiling above them and smirked, "Mistletoe."
Steve looked up with a smile and Bucky glanced at Natalia where she stood in the doorway, and Steve looked at her too before laughing softly. "Do the two of you have some plan for this seemingly strategically placed mistletoe?"
Nat laughed softly as she strode over in her silk slip. "Maybe." She leaned up and started kissing along Steve's jaw as she slipped down onto her knees between him and the counter.
Steve's cheeks turned dark red as Nat pulled his Christmas themed pajama pants down to his knees and started kissing his bare hips. Steve stuttered as Bucky grabbed Nat's hair with one hand and pulled her head closer to his crotch. Her lips glided along his dick and he gripped the countertop behind her head. Steve's been too involved with work and Christmas to have any time to enjoy himself, and what better time for an intervention than 4:30 on Christmas morning?
Steve leaned forward slightly as Nat took his length into her mouth. Bucky slid his metal fingers into Nat's fiery red hair and slid his other hand up Steve's chest, effectively holding the three of them together. Nat reached behind Steve and tugged Bucky's sweats down just enough to expose him as well. Steve's moan of ecstasy when Bucky pushed into him effectively managed to turn them all on even farther.
Bucky let out a groan against the skin of Steve's neck as Nat dug her nails into his thigh. Steve's whining was like music to Bucky's ears as he rolled his hips. Without even looking Bucky could pinpoint the moment that Nat started touching herself just so she could get a little something, and he decided that wouldn't do. Bucky was not about to let the only lady do all the work and not get anything out of it, so he used his grip on her hair to pull her to her feet.
"Наклоняться." He told her, and she did. She hiked up her slip and bent at the hips over the counter in front of Steve, who wasted no time in grabbing onto her thighs and gently guiding his way inside of her. The quiet little gasp she let out was enough for them both to hear. With everyone busy with the move and the remodeling on top of their other jobs and caring for Peter, the three of them hadn't fucked like this in far too long.
The carnal thrusting of their hips was only the beginning. Nat was writhing on the counter in complete bliss as Steve pressed against her g-spot with every knock of his hips into hers. Steve himself was moaning like a whore as Bucky plowed into his prostate. Bucky absolutely loved having the three of them together like this and, well, what better way to christen the new kitchen than this?
Nat's back arched and Bucky knew that this would be it for her, and it was almost it for him and Steve too. Steve grabbed Nat by the hair and pulled, and Bucky grabbed Steve by the throat. Both of their secret little turn-ons being used against them in the final moments of their actions in order to tip them over the line and off into the deep end. And it worked; in a moment all three of them were crying out to one another as they came together.
After the final moments of bliss had passed and everyone caught their breaths, they fixed their clothing and shared kisses and finished their coffee. Steve took to cleaning up any mess in the area while they waited for Tony to arrive with Peter and Bruce. Having Bruce over took some deliberation on all parts, but eventually, they decided, what the hell. Because Bruce was their friend, and despite everything, they still loved Tony and wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn't with them.
Bucky was still indifferent to Stark, and Tony felt the same. After all, it'd been two weeks and there were still metal plate shaped bruises around his neck that just didn't want to go away. Somewhere inside Bucky felt sorry, though he wouldn't say it aloud. Not yet. He wanted Tony to earn the apology. He wasn't just going to hand it over because it's what Steve wanted.
"So, have you thought about what you're going to say to Tony?" Steve asked as he made another cup of coffee.
Bucky, with a mouth full of pancake, said, "Not a damn thing."
Steve paused and looked up at the idiotic love of his life and leaned against the counter. "It's Christmas."
Nat smirked a little, already guessing Bucky's reply. Bucky swallowed and delivered, "I'm Jewish."