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December had always been a very quiet month between him and Tony. Not quiet in the sense that they never spoke to each other, per se, but more that they consciously tiptoed around one another. Bucky understood why, of course – from the very beginning of when they’d first fallen into each other, he’d understood.
After the Snap, after half of the universe was turned to dust, Bucky somehow found himself at Tony’s side. The first year was difficult for everyone; their new world was a boat riddled with holes that let the raging waters in, and the Avengers – what was left of the Avengers and whoever else still alive in the United Nations – had spent the better part of it with a single bucket trying to throw it back out and survive.
The first time Bucky had seen Tony’s metaphorical mask slip was at the height of global command negotiations, in the middle of December in the second year. The genius was tired, and angry, and irritated, and Bucky was just the unlucky bastard that happened to come across him that day. Tony literally unloaded on him, vitriol spilling from his lips, and Bucky let him. When the tears started slipping down his face and the sobs began racking through his chest, Tony cried in his arms, and Bucky let him do that, too.
There was an unspoken respect between them that had over the years flourished into something… unexpectedly beautiful. After Rhodey became Vice President of the United States, Bucky became Tony’s person, in more ways than one. The two of them shared the burden of helping the world get itself back to its feet, and it wasn’t dreadful because they had each other to lean on. Tony, more than anyone, was surprised at how well they worked together, let alone how well they fit together.
Despite the challenges they’d faced and the obstacles they’d overcome, Bucky and Tony still couldn’t quite get past December unscathed. As the days closed-in on the sixteenth, the two of them would stay quietly within each other’s orbit. Bucky wanted to say he was surprised when he saw Tony in his workshop on that night, almost glaring at the glass decanter that sat innocuously on the bench.
Tony must have sensed him staring because Bucky hadn’t even made a sound when he said, “I’m not going to drink it. It’s just…”
“I know you won’t,” Bucky replied softly, making his way across the polished concrete of the floors. He stood beside Tony for a moment as the genius twisted in his stool to face him. The super-soldier went down on both knees then, moving to wrap his arms around Tony’s waist.
“James –”
With his face pressed against Tony’s stomach, Bucky muttered out a quiet, “I’m sorry.” The tension in his shoulders disappeared when he felt strong fingers slip between his dark locks. Tony’s touch was light, caressing his scalp in the way he always did.
“Don’t start this again, James,” Tony said just as quietly, “you don’t have anything to be –”
“I love you,” Bucky interjected gently, breathing it out like a prayer against Tony’s warmth. His arms tightened around his partner; whose response was to hug him right back. “I love you, Tony, and I’m sorry.”
Moments passed where there was nothing between them but beating hearts and soft breaths. Eventually, Tony curled himself around Bucky, and they held each onto each other like they were the last precious things left in the world.
Tony pressed a kiss to the top of Bucky’s hair, one hand leaving circles at the back of his neck with his fingertips. “I forgive you.”
