Chapter Text
“Written in 1944, this song was originally created as entertainment for a dinner party. It won the 1949 Academy Award for Best Original Song and is now considered a, somewhat controversial, Christmas classic. Name this song.”
There were groans from the crowd. Well, from the back table, as Bucky read the question. It was a bit of a tricky one, but this crowd wasn’t all that ordinary and he liked to keep them on his toes.
A few tables in front of him Dr. Strange whispered frantically to Wong and Christine as they tried to decipher the answer. In the back, Clint and Thor were having a good-natured argument while Natasha coolly wrote down the answer. There was no Tony tonight - thank god.
Tony Stark was without a doubt the worst trivia player in Manhattan, possibly the world. He was loud, rude, and, more often than not, a total asshole when he didn’t get the answer right. Bucky had started docking points from the team for each of Tony’s outbursts.
As a result, the other Avengers had forbidden the man from coming more than once a month.
“Hey Buck, you want anything from the bar?” His co-host asked.
His co-host who happened to be Steve Rogers aka Captain Fucking America aka Bucky’s Fucking Boyfriend!
His number was saved on Bucky’s phone as FUCKING BOYFRIEND 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸.
“The usual please,” he smiled and struggled to tear his gaze away from that Dorito shaped backside as Steve made his way to the bar.
It had been a little over a year since they had started dating and Bucky still found himself pinching his arm in disbelief sometimes
Bucky had had a lot of great things happen in his life. He’d been born to parents who had loved him unconditionally. He had a fantastic sister he not only loved but genuinely liked. He’d survived two weeks as a POW and gotten a super sick cyborg arm from Tony Stark. He’d finally been put on a tenure track at his job.
But dating Steve Rogers was easily one of the top three best things to ever happen to him.
And yes the media attention and Steve’s hectic and unpredictable work schedule could put a damper on things. Bucky still wouldn’t trade it for the world. He knew this was it for him. He hadn’t broached the topic with Steve but he kind of thought Steve felt the same way.
Bucky just hadn't figured out the right time to tell him.
***
“You sure you don’t want to stay the night at the Tower?” Steve wheedled. Despite the winter weather, the two of them had taken Steve’s motorcycle from the bar back to Bucky’s place. Cold didn’t faze either of them.
Leaning over his handlebars, Steve aimed his best puppy dog eyes at Bucky. His motorcycle idling as he tried to make his case.
“I really need to finish up this paper. But Becca and I will head over tomorrow morning. I know how important it is that we not miss Tony’s Christmas Eve Brunch Extravaganza or whatever it is he’s calling it this year.”
Steve sighed. “I get it, I thought it’d be nice to spend Christmas Eve-Eve together. But your research should come first,” Steve stared heroically into the distance as he spoke.
Somewhere a bald eagle cried.
“How about this,” Bucky conceded, “I’ll finish up my paper and, if you’re still awake when I’m done, I’ll come on over?”
“That sounds perfect," Steve beamed. Bucky's heart melted because he was totally whipped. "I’ll see you later, Buck.” He leaned in and gave Bucky a long kiss. Pulling back, he smirked at the dazed expression in Bucky's eyes before revving the engine and roaring off into the night.
Bucky couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty as he walked into his apartment building.
He had lied. The truth was he’d submitted his paper last week.
Tonight he was working on something even more important, Steve’s Christmas present.
And he was really cutting it close.
He probably could have finished it sooner, but he wanted it to be absolutely perfect. Last year may have been their first Christmas together as a couple, but it had been muddled by the ongoing press coverage of Cthulhu and Bucky’s recovery. Things had been new between the two of them and the Christmas presents (socks) had reflected that.
This year was going to be different because Bucky’s present was going to knock last year’s Christmas socks right off of Steve’s feet.
The thing about Steve was that he rarely talked about his family, outside of his mom. What Bucky had slowly realized was that this wasn’t because Steve didn’t think about them or care. He just didn’t know them. He didn’t know anything about any of them.
When historians wrote about Steve they spent barely more than a paragraph on his dad. Sometimes his mom got a whole chapter, but that was it. Bucky wanted to change that.
For the past few months, he had systematically tracked down Steve’s family history and put it all together into a book. The cherry on top was the cache of old letters the Smithsonian had stored deep in a vault. Letters between Steve’s mom and dad while he’d been fighting overseas. Bucky wasn't even sure Steve knew they existed, since they had been discovered after the Valkyrie crashed and the Smithsonian hadn’t thought them relevant enough for the main Captain America exhibit.
It had taken a lot of wrangling and favors but he had finally been able to go in and make copies.
All there was left to do was read the whole thing over one last time and then he could print it from the Columbia print lab.
The night's task in front of him, Bucky began to whistle happily as he got to the first landing.
He was still three floors down from his apartment when he heard it: a muffled thump and a sharp intake of breath.
He stilled and listened. There was another quiet thump as something hit the ground above him, the noise unmistakably emitting from Becca and Bucky's top floor apartment.
He knew he should get the lay of the land, that he should use his stealth training and superior senses to his advantage.
But he didn’t. Instead, he raced up the stairs to save Becca.
He didn’t bother knocking, just lifted one heavily booted foot and kicked the door down with a crash.
There was a shriek as the door flew off its hinges and smashed into the small apartment.
“What the fuck Bucky?!” Becca screamed from where she lay sprawled on the floor, having toppled from her position on top of Sam when he vaulted off the couch to face the intruder. The intimidation factor was only slightly lessened by the Captain America boxers he was sporting.
So… Becca wasn’t in trouble then.
“Oh, wow, sorry, my bad.” Bucky quickly whipped around to give them privacy. Thank god Becca still had on a bra and shorts.
“God damn it Bucky why are you here? You’re supposed to be at the Tower with Steve!” Bucky could hear Becca push herself up from the floor and dig around for her discarded top.
“Uh, yeah I was going to but I have some Christmas stuff I need to finish before tomorrow.” While the two of them worked on getting dressed Bucky turned his attention to the demolished door. Careful to avoid looking in their direction, he scooted past the couch and easily lifted the heavy oak. He then propped it up against the doorframe and grabbed the screwdriver, extra hinges, and screws conveniently stored in the kitchen drawer closest to the entryway. He got to work unscrewing the now-demolished hinges and set about replacing them. He was running out of space both on the door and the frame to reattach it all.
Thank god his landlord was such a Captain America fan.
The silence stretched out as he made quick work of the task. “Sam you been working out? You look, good man.”
“Do not even compliment him right now Bucky,” Becca’s voice was hard enough to cut glass. Or Bucky’s jugular.
Sam laughed. Thank god he was so easy going, he probably wouldn’t have stuck around otherwise.
“I may not have a super serum but I do alright.” Bucky risked a glance over his shoulder and caught the glare Becca was now leveling at her boyfriend.
“Why don’t I just leave you two alone...” Sam pointed at the door to Becca’s room and then made himself scarce.
Easygoing and smart.
“James Buchanan Barnes,” He winced at the use of his full name. “What the absolute fuck is your problem?” Becca's arms were crossed and her foot tapped impatiently. At that moment she was the picture of their mom.
“Becca, I am so sorry. I heard noises and, well, I thought… I thought someone was hurting you.” The thought made his adrenaline spike. She was the only family he had left and he would, without a second’s hesitation, kill anyone who hurt her.
“The only one hurting me is my idiot big brother who keeps COCK-BLOCKING ME!” Bucky fought the urge to cover his ears. He really didn't want to hear his baby sister say the word "cock" if he could help it.
“Okay, that's fair but it was entirely unintentional. How was I supposed to know you'd be making out in the living room?"
"I texted you!" Becca snarled.
"You texted me you were going to be using the public living area to make-out?" He knew he was being a shit, but he couldn't help it.
"You know what I mean Bucky, you said you would work on checking your phone more regularly and you're not! And, tell me, if I was actually in trouble how would kicking in the door do anything to help?" Her voice was steadily rising and Bucky felt his own temper rising in response. He had fucked up, but it came from a good place. Shouldn’t that count for something?
"Well, as a surprise tactic I think it's a pretty good one," he defended. "And excuse me if I feel a little protective of you. How would you react if you thought I was in trouble?”
“We both know how I would react Bucky. The whole internet knows how I would react -- it’s on YouTube! And stop trying to change the subject. This is about personal boundaries and being a considerate roommate. This is about, about, me moving out!”
Bucky couldn’t have been more thunderstruck than if Thor’s hammer had fallen on top of his head.
“You want to move out?” He repeated.
“What if I do?” She snapped.
“But, but, who will I live with? I can’t afford rent on my own in this place and neither can you.”
Becca was momentarily stunned.
“Who will you live with?" She repeated. "WHO WILL YOU LIVE WITH? How about your boyfriend?! You know, the star-spangled man with a plan?”
Okay, Bucky could admit he'd walked right into that one.
“Move in with Steve?” He couldn’t say the idea hadn’t occurred to him but Bucky had never lived with anyone he’d dated before. What if it messed things up?
“We’ve only been dating for a year. You know we haven’t even said the, uh, “L” word yet.”
“You guys haven’t said ‘I love you?’” Sam’s head popped out from Becca’s room, his eyes comically big.
“Hey, it’s a serious thing. You don’t just throw that kind of language around, alright.” Bucky crossed his arms. He wasn’t quite sure how his relationship with Steve had become the topic of this conversation but he didn’t like where this was going.
“You're right,” agreed Sam somberly. Bucky knew Sam would be on his side.
“Hey, Becca?” Sam turned toward his girlfriend.
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” the shit-eating grin Sam sent Bucky made him want to kick in the door all over again.
Becca laughed. “I love you too Sammy-cakes.”
“Oh god, gross.” Bucky squirmed at the overt display of affection.
“What? Do you have a problem with emotions Buck? Does my saying “I love you” to my girlfriend make you uncomfortable? Becca, I love you like the moon loves the stars.”
“I love you like peanut butter loves jelly, smookie-kins,” Becca declared.
“I love you like hippies love double rainbows,” Sam blew a raspberry.
“Okay, okay, you two have made your point!” Bucky threw up his hands, all thought of repairing the door forgotten in the face of such nausea-inducing public declarations.
Grabbing his bag, he made a beeline for the half-hung door.
“We aren’t done with this conversation Bucky. I’m serious about the moving out thing and the cock-blocking thing!” Becca yelled at her brother’s retreating back.
“And I’m serious about you and Steve needing to get your emotionally repressed super selves figured out!” Called Sam.
Ignoring them both, Bucky raced out the door and for the safety of Starbucks.
He never made it.