Work Text:
This is Bucky’s second holiday season in Louisiana after moving down at the end of last summer. With Sam’s help, he had an apartment in New Orleans, had gotten his GRE, and was currently taking classes part-time at Tulane. Most of this past semester was spent in the city learning and studying, but the weekends he often spent at the Wilson household.
Since mid-October, there had been a domino effect of things breaking down in the house. Sarah had gotten quite a few things fixed on her own, but now with the semester over, he had more time to help out. Throughout the day he had fixed a running toilet upstairs, installed a sturdier shelf in the living room after the old one had warped under the pressure of all of Cass’ new sports trophies, and set up the new porch swing after the last one came crashing down during a particularly bad storm.
He had just finished putting in the last of the pull-out cabinet drawers Sarah wanted when he hears the beep of her car unlocking and the door opening. He makes his way outside and greets her by the back door, grabbing bags of groceries from her hands.
He takes them all easily leaving her with two containers of eggs. She closes the door with her hip and he follows her back inside placing the bags on the counter in the kitchen. Together they put away the items, her taking the fridge and freezer, he taking care of the pantry items with ease with the new slide-out drawers. When he’s finished, he watches her create space in the freezer to squeeze in the last bag of frozen berries. Once closing the door, she places her head and palms on the metal refrigerator door.
“Bad day?”
She shakes her head. “Just a migraine. Shouldn’t have been driving.”
She turns and stands with her back against the fridge door, eyes closed and taking deep breaths. He steps to her, placing his hand on the back of her neck and notices the increased temperature.
He kisses her lips, her nose, her furrowed brow, “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nap?”
“Cass and AJ-”
“Are at a friend's house this afternoon,” he reminds her. “You have a few hours to nap before they get in. I’ll be here.”
She wraps her arms around his torso, pulling him in closer to her. Her eyes blink open slowly, and her hands reach down to give his butt a small squeeze drawing out a smile from both of them.
“I should get upstairs before we start something we can’t stop,” she says,
It takes them a few moments to unwrap themselves from each other, but then she’s grabbing a bottle of migraine medication and a glass of water before heading upstairs.
The boys arrive home hours later, getting a ride from their friend’s mom and Sarah’s still not awake. AJ is looking for her when Bucky tells them both that she’s having a nap. Cass asks if they can watch a movie, and they settle on a kid’s movie about a family road trip that Bucky is thankful is not a musical. Throughout the movie, AJ is fidgety and keeps looking up the stairs which Bucky assumes is because he’s waiting for Sarah to come down.
When the movie is over Cass asks to play video games but Bucky knows that Sarah doesn’t want them to have that much screen time, so he bargains with a board game instead. He tells Cass to set up one of the strategy games they own, while he checks in on AJ who’s been banging around the kitchen since the movie’s been over.
He enters the kitchen to see AJ’s sweater sleeve already half covered in flour as he handles an open bag to place on the counter. Bucky had heard him in the kitchen but didn’t expect for him to have so many things out on the counter already, pots, a few bowls, eggs, and now a bag of flour.
“What’s going on in here AJ?” AJ looks at him with wide eyes like he’s been caught doing something he’s not supposed to. “Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m supposed to make sausage puffs for school and Mama said she was going to help me, but she’s still sleeping.”
“You have to make them tonight?”
“Yes, it’s for tomorrow!” He exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. “We’re having a holiday feast.”
“And you were just going to do it all by yourself?”
“You told me to leave Mama alone,” his voice is getting higher-pitched, a little louder and Bucky recognizes the early signs of him getting frustrated
“Hey, hey,” Bucky says putting both hands on AJ’s shoulders and bending down to his height in an attempt to calm him down. “Look at me, what’s wrong?”
“Mama says I’ve got to be more independent, but I need help.”
“And you didn’t think to ask me?” He puts his hand on his chest feigning insult. “Your mom might be sleeping, but I know how to cook. I can help you.”
“You don’t know how to cook,” AJ declares.
“Says who?”
“I don’t know,” AJ shrugs. “You never cook.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know how. I’m smart enough to figure out a recipe,” Bucky says tapping the side of his head with his pointer finger.
“I have to make enough for my whole grade.”
“And how many is that?”
“Like, one hundred.”
“Okay, well we better get started immediately.”
“Can I help?” Cass asks appearing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Really? You’ll help me too?”AJ asks, surprised.
Cass’ arms are folded across his chest and the way he’s leaned on the doorframe at this moment, Bucky sees a bit of Sam in him.
“You have to make a hundred rolls and it’s almost bedtime, you need all the help you can get.”
“Okay, let me go get the recipe Mama put in my folder, it’s in my backpack,” AJ says before sliding out of the room.
Bucky pats Cass on the shoulder as he walks past him to the sink to wash his hands, “You’re a good brother you know.”
Cass scrunches up his face like he’s ashamed to show kindness to his brother. AJ comes rushing back into the room holding waving a piece of paper, nearly falling over until Bucky lifts him up into the air and places him on the counter in one swift motion. Bucky stands beside him and looks at the ingredients and instructions in his hand.
“Alright, well, we won’t really need the flour because we already have pre-made puff pastry.”
“But I wanted to make everything from scratch.”
“Maybe another time, alright? To make puff pastry from scratch you have to let it freeze overnight and we don’t have enough time to do that to have these ready in time for tomorrow. They’ll still taste good though, I promise.”
It’s luckily not too many instructions or ingredients, so it shouldn’t be complicated. Unfortunately, the instructions of the package of the puff pastry recommend for it to defrost overnight in the fridge, but that realistically he’ll have to let it defrost out on the counter.
It’s almost eight and their bedtime is at nine, and he realizes that he’s going to be up doing this on his own for most of the night, but he doesn’t mind. It’s rare days like this when he gets to feel useful, especially useful to the boys since they ask him for help even less than Sarah does.
He gives Cass the job of separating the eggs out because he claims he knows how to do it, and gives AJ the job of measuring out the herbs and spices. AJ is using the measuring spoons efficiently, but Cass is having problems with the eggs. They only need two eggs separated, but after he messes up three, Bucky steps next to him.
“I know how, I just forgot,” he mutters before Bucky can say anything.
“Here, let me show you.”
He cracks the egg with both hands and passes the yolk back and forth in the shell while letting the white run out into the bowl. He places the yolk in a separate bowl and tosses the shell to the side. He passes Cass another egg and watches him do the same with shaky hands, but with concentration trying to separate every little bit of egg white out of the shell. He smiles when he plops the egg yolk in the bowl with Bucky’s and gives Bucky an eggy high-five. Bucky’s in charge of rolling out the puff pastry once it’s defrosted, but it’s got some time until it’s ready. Instead, he puts on the smart speaker that Sarah has in the kitchen on a low volume and the three of them have a small dance party.
Once the puff pastry is ready, they’re able to scrap together thirty sausage rolls on two baking sheets. It’s more than Bucky thought they’d be able to cook at once, but he knows they have at least two to three more batches left to cook. Between each batch, they have to wait long enough to let the pastries cool before removing them off the tray and placing the next batch in the oven.
At first, both boys are excited to stay up a little later past their bedtimes, until about nine-thirty when he sees them both hiding their yawns during the wait time.
Their second batch of puffs are just getting placed into the oven, when he instructs them to start getting ready for bed. By the time he makes it upstairs, they’re in the bathroom already in their pyjamas brushing their teeth. Usually, they both want some reading time before bed, but they climb into their beds and close their eyes easily. He pops his head into Sarah’s room and sees her asleep in her clothes on top of her sheets. He’s able to get her under the covers without much fuss. She mumbles something, but she’s still out like a light. He checks her temperature with his hand again and the heat radiating off of her seems to have subsided.
He goes back down and the second batch is nearly done. He switches the music to a playlist Sarah had made for him full of songs she thought he would like and sways his hips along to the songs. He eats a pastry from the first batch which is now properly cooled and thankfully tastes good while he rolls out more dough for the third batch. With the third batch of sausage rolls in the oven, he begins to make an omelette with the eggs that Cass wasn’t able to properly separate. He hears footsteps padding down the stairs.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No, did you come upstairs?”
He nods, “A few minutes ago.”
“Maybe, but I think it was the smell of andouille that got me awake. You’re making the pastries by yourself?”
“No, Cass and AJ both helped out until they got too tired.”
“Cass helped?”
Bucky nods, “He even offered.”
She reaches toward the plate he’s placed the cooled sausage puffs on.
“Just to make sure they’re not poisoned,” she teases him.
“For some reason, the people in this house think I can’t cook, when I can cook. In fact, I’m making an omelette right now.”
“An omelette isn’t cooking, but if you want to show off, you can make me one too.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Gimme a kiss.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Her ears catch wind of the song playing in the background and she sings along to it, surprised when he joins along with her harmony. They eat, sing, and dance while finishing baking enough sausage puffs for tomorrow.
It’s nearly midnight when they’re all done and cleaned up. He detaches his arm, placing it on the newly cleaned-off counter, and does the best he can to clean it for now.
“You staying here tonight?” Sarah asks him. “It’s late.”
He doesn’t spend the night in the house often, usually, their alone time is spent in his apartment, but she’s offering so how could he deny her. He grabs his arm off the counter and follows her back upstairs to her bedroom. They get ready for bed, making eyes at each other in her bathroom mirror. He sees it in her eyes when she realizes, turning her head to the toilet before pointing toward it with her toothbrush.
“It’s not running anymore.”
“Nope. I told you I’d be fixing things today.”
“What else?”
She’s almost running out of the room to see the things she had missed when she first came through the door with a migraine when he grabs hold of her waist keeping her in the room.
He kisses her shoulder with minty breath, “I’ll show you in the morning, let’s get to bed.”
They stay up for another hour talking, as she’s got a second wind from her hours-long nap, but at some point, he falls asleep on her. He doesn’t mean to, but he wasn’t lying when he said he was tired.
He wakes up the next morning to her wrapping her arms around him and throwing her leg over him. Louisiana isn’t as cold as the Brooklyn winters, but the chill in the morning air means she wants his embrace to stay warm. He’s not a huge fan of cuddling, but he does it for her, likes it with her.
They almost don’t make it out of bed at all when he puts his mouth on hers, taking her body gently and lazily. She clings to him, dragging her nails down his back until they’re both satiated. He’s not ready to get out of bed with her, but with the promise of her blueberry pancakes, he makes it downstairs ten minutes after her.
The coffee machine starts to spew out coffee when he enters the kitchen. She’s mixing the batter for the pancakes, but he knows she’ll wait for the boys to come down before she starts to cook them.
“The toilet, the shelves, and the cabinets,” she takes note of his handiwork. “You had a busy day yesterday.”
He smiles as he pours them both a cup of coffee, knowledgable enough at this point to know exactly how she takes it, a mouthful of hazelnut creamer and a splash of sugar, while he leaves his black.
“Yes, but you may have missed the best part.”
He hands over her cup and goes into the living room to grab the spare throw from the couch to place it over her shoulder.
“Lemme show you something real quick.”
He takes hold of her hand and opens up the front door for her. Even though she missed it yesterday, it’s the first thing her eyes land on stepping outside. She shows no trepidation toward his handiwork, sitting down on the swing with ease. He sits down next to her and they rock in silence, sipping their coffees, listening to the creaking of the swing in the wind. She pats his thigh, the tears in her eyes saying more than words ever could. He takes her hand in his and they stay out there until she gets too cold.
The boys come down moments after they’ve re-entered the house. AJ runs straight into his mother’s arms, hissing away when he feels the chill still on her clothes. He’s full of energy literally bouncing around the kitchen as he tells her about the process of making the sausage rolls. She smiles and listens intently as she makes the blueberry pancakes. Bucky stays standing next to her, leaning on the counter with ankles crossed as his attention bounces back and forth from the boys eating to Sarah finishing off the last of the batter. The two of them are eating off the same plate with their hands as she cooks, fingers occasionally brushing each other.
They have a moment when the boys go back upstairs to get dressed for the day where she brings up an unused blueberry to his mouth. He takes the offering, teasing her thumb with his tongue for just a second.
“Behave,” she says swatting his chest.
“Never when you’re around.”
He rinses the plates from breakfast to toss them into the dishwasher as she makes her second cup of coffee. She pinches his butt with a laugh, eliciting a dangerous smirk from him over his shoulder.
“Behave,” he teases back.
“Never,” she repeats.
The rest of the morning is spent figuring out how to safely put the sausage puffs in the back of Sarah’s car. They include him easily into their morning routine and he revels in the domesticity of the past twenty-four hours. They’ve allowed him into their hearts and their home and he would continue to stick around for as long as they let him.