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The cheesy Christmas decorations plastered on the walls of the hospital room did little to distract from the throbbing of Steve’s arm. He was trying to not move it, so that it wouldn’t twinge quite as badly, but it was still all that he could seem to focus on.
It wasn’t like he had intended to get into a fight on Christmas Eve. Honestly, all he had wanted to do was make his way home, and maybe invite Nat and Sam over so that they could marathon old Christmas movies (which he had really been looking forward to).
But then he had heard panicked cries just a couple blocks away from his apartment, and had followed the noise until it led him to two people in one of the back alleys. The man was the rough-looking type, with a scar on his left cheek and dark, angry eyes. The girl who accompanied him was in tears by the time Steve arrived, with her arm being twisted behind her back in a way that looked intensely painful.
Steve didn’t need to know anything more. His fists already in the air, he approached the two of them. The man had scoffed and shoved the woman to the side, and before Steve knew it, he was sprawled on the ground, only hoping that the woman had been able to escape or run out of the alley.
Nobody deserved to be with an asshole like that on Christmas.
At some point, Steve must have gotten knocked out, because he woke up later, freezing, with his head pounding and a wounded arm. Every muscle in his body screaming, he had pulled himself to his feet and managed to find his way to the ER, which was, except for a couple of listless-looking people, empty. Steve had procured a spot in the far corner, and let his head drop to his shoulder. He was exhausted.
About ten minutes later, he felt someone tap his shoulder. Opening his eyes blearily, he focused on the dark-haired, handsome man who was standing before him.
“Oh, good.” He said, relaxing. “Sorry, you just looked really out of it -- I wanted to make sure you weren’t dying or anything.”
“Not yet,” replied Steve, adjusting himself in his seat and grimacing slightly. “But I shouldn’t talk too soon.”
The man sank into the chair next to him. “I’m Bucky.”
“Steve.”
“Can I ask why you’re at the ER? On Christmas?”
Steve wanted to laugh at the disbelief in Bucky’s voice. “Got into a fight with some abusive dick I saw near my apartment. You’re in the ER too, though, so it’s not like you can be too judgemental.”
“A fight?” Bucky shook his head. “Damn. I hope you got in a couple good punches?”
Steve shrugged. “Did my best. Got knocked out, though, so I have no clue what happened to him.”
Bucky exhaled. “Jesus. Does this happen often to you? How do your friends sleep at night, knowing you’re out there starting fights?”
“They do their best to keep tabs on me.” Steve laughed, feeling Bucky’s eyes on him. “Someone I know, Tony, once tried to put a tracking device on my pencil case, hoping that I’d bring it with me and he’d be able to find me. I got rid of that pretty quickly.”
“I don’t blame him.”
Steve smiled. “You never said why you ended up here?”
“Oh!” Bucky grinned, tapping his forehead. “I knocked my head against a tree. My friend Clint decided that we should go to Central Park and find one of the bigger hills to toboggan down. Turns out he’s shit at steering the sled, so we ended up heading straight for a tree. He’s going to get me some coffee right now to apologize, in case I end up concussed or something.”
Steve leaned back. “Wow. I can’t remember the last time I went sledding.”
“Well, if you ever go again,” Bucky said, pointing at him, “Wear a helmet. And go with someone who can actually steer. No point messing up such a pretty face.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Steve told him, ducking his head with a smile.
The door swung open loudly, and the two of them looked up to see a man walking into the room, holding two cups of coffee and shaking the snow off of himself. Clint, Steve assumed.
This was confirmed when he made his way over to Bucky, handing over one of the cups.
“I leave you alone for a second, Barnes,” Clint said, eyeing up Steve, “And you manage to find some guy to flirt with.”
Steve hid a smile.
“A guy,” said Bucky, reaching over and plucking the second cup of coffee from Clint’s hands, “Who deserves a cup of coffee more than you do.”
“Hey!” Clint reached for the cup, but Bucky had already passed it to Steve, who accepted it with an apologetic smile at Clint. “You should be more thankful that I braved the cold outdoors for you.”
“Sure. But while you were showing off your terrible tobogganing skills and getting your friends concussed,” Clint opened his mouth to protest, but Bucky pressed on, “Steve here was out there fighting crime in the backstreets, protecting our city.”
Clint tilted his head, glancing at Steve. “That’s why you’re so beat up?”
“It’s not so glamourous as that,” Steve told him, “But yeah, that about sums it up.”
“I’m just wondering,” continued Bucky, as if neither of them had spoken, “What would have happened if he hadn’t woke up after getting knocked out, and had frozen to death on Christmas Eve.”
Steve rolled his eyes, taking a tentative sip from his coffee. “That doesn’t matter, because I did wake up. And I’m perfectly fine.”
Clint glanced between them. “Okay. Well, you seem to be in pretty good hands here, so I’m heading back to my apartment. Barney’s supposed to be arriving sometime tonight.”
Bucky nodded. “See you later.”
“Merry Christmas,” Clint said, waving at the two of them. “Don’t get into too much trouble, there, Steve.”
“I’ll do my best,” Steve called after him. Bucky smiled.
“Alright,” said Steve, turning towards his companion. “We have no idea how long we’re going to have to wait until we get admitted, so we’re going to make the most of Christmas Eve.”
Bucky took a sip of coffee. “Alright. Any ideas?”
They passed the night in a whirl of games, learning more about each other every second. Steve felt as though they had known each other forever after only a little while. With every laugh that he managed to draw from Bucky, he felt himself becoming more and more taken with Bucky.
It was almost disappointing when Bucky’s name was called, but they said their goodbyes and Bucky followed the nurse out of the room, explaining his situation as he went. Only minutes later, Steve was called up. Funnily enough, his arm didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before. Maybe Bucky had been the distraction he needed.
Nothing was broken, to Steve’s relief, so it didn’t take long for the doctor to finish his assessment of Steve’s injuries. After suggesting a couple of pain medications that he could use if he was really in discomfort, Steve was sent on his way.
As he exited the ER, he noticed Bucky leaning against the wall, yawning. As Steve approached, he looked up, his eyes brightening.
“Hey!” said Steve in surprise, glad to see the other man. “How’d it go? Have you got a concussion?”
Bucky shook his head. “Nothing. You?”
“Me neither.”
“Listen,” said Bucky, shifting on his feet. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“How’d you like go to Central Park?”
“I trust there’ll be no sledding involved?”
Bucky smiled. “Nothing.”
Steve grabbed his hand. “I’d love it.”
As it turns out: spending Christmas Eve in the ER isn’t at all as bad as it sounds.