Work Text:
Ever since getting out of the grip of Hydra, Bucky hasn’t been one to celebrate Christmas. He didn’t see the point, really. It’s not like he had family to visit. It’s not like he had anyone to cuddle up with while watching Christmas movies or baking goodies. He didn’t have anything domestic like that. All he does is go out to fights and try to redeem himself from all the evil he has done.
Of course, that all changed when a certain woman entered his life. She made it her priority to make him feel like he had a place. So now, December 24, Christmas Eve, Bucky was a bit surprised that she hadn’t made any plans with him. Not that he was complaining. Never externally at least. She has family she probably wants to visit this holiday season. She has better things to worry about than some monster that is too broken to truly embrace the Christmas spirit. He doesn’t blame her for leaving him. Even if it hurts as though a bullet tore through his heart.
But that’s his fault. He shouldn’t have got his hopes up. He should’ve known better.
So, that’s why he is sitting alone on the floor in his apartment staring at the black screen of the television as he sips on a case of cheap beer. Pathetic, he knows. Huffing, Bucky hangs his head and fiddles with the label on the bottle. If she were here she’d probably scold him for being such a grump. Her soft hands would probably drag his ass out of his house to go marvel at all the festivities out and about the streets of New York. She’d probably get too cold and he’d have to insist that he would be okay with going back. She’d most likely huff the whole way home, saying that it isn’t even that cold, though he’d be able to hear her teeth chattering and she’d be shivering like a leaf on a windy day.
He smiles, thinking of how she’d probably make him stay at her house as a thanks for walking her home. She’d make cookies with him and probably force him to watch those terrible Hallmark movies that he heard about from Sam. He wonders if she would cuddle with him. Probably not, but a guy could certainly dream.
What he’d give to have that happen. Maybe end the night with her sipping on some wine whilst she rants to him about her stupid manager and work drama. Maybe she’d rest her pretty head on his shoulder and her eyes would drift shut. She’d try to stay awake for him, not wanting to be a bad host. He’d just let her drift off to sleep, knowing that she needs it.
He startles when he hears a knocking on his door. He wasn’t expecting anyone.
Getting off his ass, he trudges to the door. His grumpy demeanour instantly lightens when he sees a familiar pair of mittens. Big boxes block her torso and face. He immediately takes the boxes from her, feeling bad that she had to trudge her way all the way over to his house without any help.
She huffs and shudders in her coat. Her cheeks have a beautiful rosy colour on them.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” she smiles up at him, that gorgeous smile that makes his knees week every time.
“No, of course not,” he replies. He’d never be too busy for her. “What’s all this?”
She giggles, “it’s for you, silly! Merry Christmas!”
He pulls a face, eyes roaming over the tower of boxes that he had just set down. All of this for him? Why would she do something like this?
“I know it’s not actually Christmas, but my family usually celebrates on Christmas Eve. Well, we usually have lots of Christmases because our family is pretty big and spread out, y’know.” She rambles on, whilst taking off her coat and mittens, making herself right at home. She scurries to open one of the boxes that is filled with baking supplies.
“I didn’t know what you all had, so I made sure to bring all the essentials. I also brought some of my favourite movies; they’re in my backpack if you want to go through them.”
His eyes follow her to the kitchen as she sets up a little baking station. “I was thinking we could make some cookies and decorate them while listening to Christmas music. Then you can open presents and we’ll watch Christmas movies until we both fall asleep!”
He grins, loving how excited she is. It’s beyond him how she even puts up with his grumpy ass. She shuffles over to the television and frowns at the half-gone twelve pack sitting by his blanket bed. She tuts and gathers the bottles in her arms before throwing them away.
“Sorry, I-uh… well, I wasn’t expecting company… I’d have cleaned up if I knew…” Bucky grimaces wishing the ground would swallow him whole.
She pouts her pretty lips, “did you really think I’d leave you all alone on Christmas Eve? That hurts, James.”
He bashfully bows his head and scuffs his toe. “I don’t know… I just thought you’d have better things to do than hang out with a grumpy 106 year-old.”
“There’s no other grumpy 106 year-old I’d rather spend my time with,” she teases, making him all the more bashful.
“I’m sure you could think of other people you’d rather be with, though,” he shakes his head, upset that she is wasting her time on him.
She hums and walks over to him. Adjusting his leather jacket in a move that feels all too intimate for two friends like them, she looks into his eyes. His breath is taken away. She’s so close. Her perfume invades his senses and calms him; the scent reminding him that he is safe.
“I don’t wanna be anywhere but here in this moment with you,” she mutters. She sounds so sure of her words. Like there is absolutely no way she’d want to be anywhere but in his sad little apartment. The words puncture his heart. It’s something right out of one of those cheesy romance movies he was forced to watch with her. It’s a moment that is too intimate for his liking. She’s so close. Her lips are mere inches from his. She can probably feel his heart beating out of his chest.
“I… I didn’t really get you much,” he whispers, ashamed of himself for not getting more for the only person that truly matters in his life. She tilts her head, not sure how the serious conversation changed so quickly.
“I didn’t expect you to get anything for me actually,” she casually shrugs, walking away to start getting the cookies made. His heart sinks. How low are her expectations of him?
“Wow, I see how it is,” he jokes. She playfully rolls her eyes. Giving him the box of cookie cutters to open, she starts mixing the dough.
“When’s the last time you baked Christmas cookies, old man?”
He glares at her as he opens the box. She sticks out her tongue at him and starts to roll out the dough. “Alexa, play holiday station on Pandora.”
Soon music fills the room. They cut out the shapes and listen to the music. Bucky smiles when she starts to sing and dance along to the music. He wishes that this could be his normal.
While waiting for the cookies to cool, she pulls him to his empty living room. “A little birdie told me that you used to dance with all the ladies,” she smirks.
He hums, feigning annoyance, “does that birdie happen to be in Louisiana right now?”
She giggles and spins around, seemingly drunk even though she hasn’t had a drop.
She dances with him like how he used to with the dames before the war. His heart skips a beat when she rests her head on his chest. He’s never been one to get nervous around pretty girls, but now he can’t help the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach.
They start decorating the cookies when they’re cool enough and somehow they end up getting frosting on each other's noses.
When the cookies are all frosted and sprinkled, they make their way over to the television. She picks out a movie called Home Alone, claiming that it’s a classic that he just has to see.
Expecting a sappy romance like the ones Sam warned him about, he is pleasantly surprised with the humour and hijinks. In the middle of the movie she left him to go get some cookies and hot chocolate. She argues that he didn’t have to pause it when she came back, but he tells her that he didn’t want her to miss any of it since it seems to be her favourite.
“You’re too sweet,” she coos, sitting considerably closer than she was before. He flushes at the praise and proximity. She sets down the tray in front of them and takes one of the mugs. They eat some of the cookies and joke around.
Her head rests on his shoulder soon enough and he can’t help but smile a little.
Bucky’s eyes slowly open to reveal sunlight pouring in through the previously dark sky. A warm weight rests against his right shoulder. Glancing over, he is surprised to see the sleeping woman curled up against him. Cheeks warming, he slows his breaths and makes sure to stay still, not wanting to disturb the sleeping beauty next to him.
He admires her beautiful face. The way the sun highlights her features is too perfect. She is a picture of beauty.
He blushes further when her eyes flutter open to look back at him. Shifting, he hopes that she isn’t uncomfortable with how they ended up sleeping together. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep. He’d have let her take his blanket and pillow and given her the proper space she deserves.
“Merry Christmas,” she lightly mumbles, still waking up from one of the best nights she’s had in a while. Her eyes flit over to the window and brighten upon seeing the snow gently falling. “It’s snowing! Bucky, look!” Suddenly the energy returns to her lively body and in no time she’s on her tippy toes looking over the New York skyline.
Chuckling, Bucky follows her to the window. “Merry Christmas, sunshine,” he mumbles back, his voice far more low and sexy than it should be.
A gasp leaves her mouth, remembering the one thing they forgot to do last night. “Bucky! You didn’t open your presents!”
He watches her dash off to grab them from near the doorway. Amused, he shakes his head. How can one have so much energy in the morning before coffee?
She proudly sets the boxes down close by their abandoned cocoa mugs and half-eaten tray of cookies. “C’mon! I wanna watch you open your presents!”
He chuckles, “alright, alright, doll. We’ve got all day.” He stops. That wasn’t something he should have said. She’s not going to stay with him all day. He’s sure that she has better plans than staying with him on Christmas Day. Yeah, she’ll probably visit family and forget all about him and their night that they had together. She watches him go to the kitchen, worry etched on her pretty features as he opens one of the drawers and takes out a small box.
“Buck?” She questions, unsure why he’s frowning so much. He looks upset. Did she do something wrong? He grunts and plops down in front of the presents. He shouldn’t be grumpy. He shouldn’t be upset that she has a life outside of him. Not everything about her has to involve Bucky. In fact, she’d be better off the less she is with him.
Opening the first gift, he finds two bags of his coffee grounds from his favourite local coffee shop. The second gift is a handmade bracelet made with chain mail that he knows she got her uncle to make for him. The third is a beautiful and, no doubt, expensive leather jacket just his size.
But the last present is probably his favourite. It’s a flat present that he couldn’t for the life of him guess what was inside.
A book.
Furrowing his brows, he looks up at her. She’s metaphorically at the edge of her seat, excited as can get. She nods in a gesture to take a look.
When he opens it up, he sees fancy calligraphy inscribed on the cover. Her name and Bucky’s next to each other. Flipping the page, he sees a picture that Sam took of them at a bar the one time they went out for his birthday. God, that dress still kills him to this day. The two of them were laughing about something or another. He remembers that day. He didn’t want to get out of his pathetic excuse of a bed. The only plans he had were to wallow in self-loathing. But of course Sam and her showed up to make sure he wouldn’t be alone.
The next page has a picture of the two of them dancing. He really didn’t want to, but how could he say no to her when she pouted her lips like that?
Flipping the page, he sees a selfie of them when they went to Coney Island for her birthday. He almost forgot about that day. He smiles seeing the picture beside it of her holding the giant stuffed bear he won for her.
The pages are filled with great memories that the two of them made. Until it stops.
The rest of the book is blank, and he feels sad that there isn’t more for him to look back on. Seeing a note, he gently unfolds it and begins to read it.
Dear Bucky,
I hope the rest of this book will be filled with our memories to come. This year has been great and I can’t wait to spend another year with my favourite grumpy old man!
It’s signed off with her name and the word “love”. The four-letter word makes his heart skip a beat. Surely she doesn’t mean it the way he’s thinking. It’s impossible. No one could love someone like him. No one could love a monster. Not someone as wonderful as her anyway.
“Did you like it?” She asks, her voice soft and hopeful. Lifting his gaze, it locks in on her bright shining eyes all ablaze with hope.
“I love it, doll.”
A big smile takes over her features, happy to know that it wasn’t a silly gift after all.
“It’s nothing compared to what you got me, but… well, it reminded me of you.”
She gratefully takes the small box he bashfully extends to her. Unwrapping the box she crumples up the paper and sets it aside. Opening the box with care, her breath hitches in her throat seeing the pretty sunflower necklace inside. Smiling, she takes it out to examine it.
A split cuts down the centre of the flower. Tilting her head, she opens up the necklace to see the words “You are my Sunshine” inscribed on a silver pendant.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs.
“Not as beautiful as you, though.” He couldn’t stop himself. It’s not like it’s false. He smiles seeing the red tint on her cheeks. She tries to deny it but he immediately knocks her down. “Don’t you dare tell me any of those lies that you believe, doll.”