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Bucky looked up at the sound of a knock on his door and smiled when he saw Steve’s head poking into the room.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
Bucky put down the book he’d been reading and waved Steve in who cautiously entered, dressed up to the nines in his dress blues, the two silver flashes on his shoulders catching the light.
“What do you think?” he asked, giving a slow twirl. “Pepper thought it would be nice for the party if I wore it. Looks good in photos, you know?”
Bucky swallowed. “I think Pepper’s a smart lady,” he said, standing up and running his hand lightly over the ribbons on Steve’s chest.
“I could get a set for you too, you know, if you wanted?”
“Nah, that’s ok. It might draw too much attention, two guys in blues. I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember?” joked Bucky, squashing down the real reason he didn’t want to wear it, that he couldn’t stand next to the best man who’s ever worn the uniform and pretend like he’s worthy of accolade by association.
Steve’s eyes narrowed on him, flickering over his face as if searching for the truth. “Ok then, if you’re sure,” he said, clearly not believing Bucky’s excuse. “You know Tony’ll want to send in his tailor then. You’ll stand out more if you’re not dressed up,” he added, anticipating Bucky’s protestation.
Which is how Bucky found himself, on the day of the party, after standing in the middle of a tailor’s shop getting more parts of his body measured than he thought possible, taking receipt of the most beautiful suit he’d ever seen outside of Tony’s wardrobe.
The fabric had a slight sheen to it and clung to his body in all the right places, falling away exactly where it should. The vest underneath the jacket peeked out a little and his shirt cuffs ended a precise half inch after his jacket sleeves.
After a final check in the mirror, he went to Steve’s room and laughed when Steve was momentarily rendered speechless.
“Jesus, Buck,” he said, voice cracking a little as he fisted his hands at his sides to stop himself stripping Bucky of the suit there and then.
“Later,” promised Bucky with a wicked smile. “You’ve got to get ready. Can’t be late for your own party.”
-
The great and the good of New York flooded into the Tower, filling the lower levels with idle chit-chat, the sound of laughter and glasses clinking as they did the rounds and tried to meet each member of the team. No one was trying to meet Bucky. In fact, no one knew who he was, or what his story was, and he preferred it this way. Instead, he stood at the back, propping up Tony’s exceptionally well-stocked bar with a glass of whiskey in hand. Steve had been whisked away almost as soon as he set foot outside the elevator and had only managed to half-garble, “I’ll be back in a minute,” before he was thrown into the circle of meet and greets.
Bucky knew Steve had intended to keep his promise but he clearly wasn’t going to escape any time soon. None of the Avengers were, such was the demand to meet them and have a few minutes of their time. No one was going to notice if he was gone.
The quiet as the elevator doors closed was blissful and the seclusion provided by the penthouse was just what Bucky wanted. This floor was common space and had been expertly decorated for the holidays by the team of people Pepper had hired. Tony had wanted to do it himself but after he’d waged an almighty war with the tree lights, he conceded that it might be better for everyone’s safety if the professionals came in.
Stockings were hung over the fireplace, one for each of them, and on the left was the tallest tree Bucky had ever seen in someone’s home. A red and gold color scheme (of course) had been chosen and decorations filled the tree topped off by a large five-pointed golden star. The white lights twinkled, adding a gentle luminescence to the room and the tree added a hint of pine to the air which was accented by the cinnamon sticks and spiced dried citrus slices which sat in small bowls around the room. He didn’t understand why people would waste what had been perfectly good food but everything smelled good so really, he didn’t mind too much.
A beautiful black baby grand sat in the corner. Tony had played once, a long time ago, but kept the piano because hey, maybe one day he’d take it up again. Bucky ran his fingers over the lid before slowly lifting it and taking a seat on the plush leather bench in front of it. Tentatively he pressed a few keys and, upon finding it perfectly tuned, began to play.
He doesn’t remember learning to play but then there’s a lot about him now that he doesn’t remember, a whole alternative life in his head fights constantly with that which he knows to be true. He sat and played tunes he was sure he’d never heard but they flowed from his fingers like he’d known them all his life. After a while he stopped worrying about how he learned to play and instead just enjoyed the music, losing track of time until he felt the slight shudder of the floor as the elevator approached and he recognized Steve’s steps. He felt Steve stop in the doorway and knew he was being watched but didn’t stop until the last note had rung out.
“Hey,” said Steve quietly. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” agreed Bucky, turning to face Steve. “Did I worry you? I didn’t mean to.”
“I saw you’d gone but Jarvis said you were up here, and that you were ok. I thought you might leave, it’s not really our scene, huh?” said Steve as he walked over to Bucky, sitting down beside him on the bench, thigh pressed against thigh, and ran his fingers lightly over the ivory keys. “Your playing was beautiful.”
“Thanks,” said Bucky, a little embarrassed. “She just called to me and then all this happened,” he gestured to the keys.
“Would you play a little longer? I’d like to hear more.”
Bucky flexed his fingers, like a grand concert pianist, and smiled at Steve before beginning the next tune which came to mind. The notes rose and soared as they told the story, filling the room, and taking the two men on the journey with them. Steve watched Bucky’s fingers dance over the notes, the way his eyes brightened as the piece unfolded and how his hair flopped a little into his eyes as he bent forward. He loved this man, more than he had ever thought it possible to love another and although Steve didn’t believe in fate and destiny, he thought there had to be something at work to bring them both here, to this moment in time when by rights they both should have been long dead. Quite honestly, he didn’t care about the how or the why, he was just glad he had the opportunity to say all the things he’d been too afraid to say back then.
Steve was aware of two more joining them and turned to see Phil and Clint occupying the space in the doorway which he’d not long vacated. He motioned them towards the couches and they sank into them, listening as Bucky reached the crescendo of the piece and then brought it to a close.
“Nice fingers Barnes,” said Clint, laughing as Bucky showed him another use for his ‘nice fingers’ by flipping him off. “But how about something a little more festive?”
The opening bars of ‘White Christmas’ sounded and Clint got up to fix himself a drink before picking up song at the chorus.
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know,” he crooned, leaning on the piano with glass in hand.
Steve looked over at Phil who was gazing at Clint in the same way that Steve was sure he looked at Bucky, as though you couldn’t believe that there was someone so wonderful in this world and that, by some stroke of dumb luck, they’d let you in. Clint’s smooth baritone accompanied Bucky’s playing beautifully and, as though they could hear it too, the rest of the team appeared in pairs, drifting up from the party.
As the song ended, Bucky looked up at Clint and in some unspoken conversation, carried on playing, segueing seamlessly into ‘It’s Beginning to Look a lot like Christmas’.
Tony very formally bowed to Pepper, offering his hand for the first dance of what now appeared to be the unofficial after party. She laughed and took it, fitting neatly into his body, as they swayed and swirled on the spot. Taking their cue from Tony, Thor then almost carried Jane to dance with him and Natasha dragged Bruce up too.
Steve allowed himself to enjoy the moment, watching the joy and love displayed by his friends as they danced. As Bucky played the last few notes, there was a small cough at his back and he turned to see Phil there, gesturing them both up.
“Go on,” he said, “I still remember a few tunes.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Phil Coulson on the piano,” announced Clint in a cabaret style as Phil began picking out the first few notes of Silent Night.
Steve led Bucky out to a space on the floor and pulled him in close, bringing up his left hand to rest on Bucky’s shoulder and using his other to find Bucky’s metal hand, entwining their fingers before bringing them both to rest tucked safely between their bodies.
As Clint sung, Steve swayed with Bucky in a gentle circle, resting his head lightly on Bucky’s. Nothing else mattered in that moment, just the warmth of Bucky pressed up against him, the smell of Christmas in the air and the gentle sound of the fire crackling underneath the song. Steve had never thought that a time as perfect as this could exist, that he could be so lucky as to be able to share this holiday and all holidays to come with the man he loved and the friends they shared.
“Oh!” breathed Pepper. “It’s snowing!” and Steve heard the rustle of her dress as she pulled Tony over to the window to look.
He glanced down at Bucky who looked almost as blissed out as Steve felt and the two of them went to join their team, standing side by side just watching as the city was blanketed in white.
"Merry Christmas, Buck."
"Love you."