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Steve was feeling pretty tense, as he stared at the disaster in the living room. He'd wanted everything to be perfect, and he knew that Bucky had wanted the same. But now, Bucky was in the kitchen, cursing at the stove while Steve was trying to fix the Christmas tree. And Lucy, she was sitting in a corner looking guilty.
Bucky had decided they were going to have a proper feast, and that meant that Steve had to stay out of the kitchen for a few hours. Bucky's confidence in his dishes had grown in the past two months, so Steve no longer had to hole up in the bedroom. But he still had to stay out of the kitchen, which was fine with Steve. He had some last minute decorating to do, and Steve felt the Christmas tree didn't look right.
Their small apartment had Christmas decorations and lights on nearly every surface that would hold still. There were white icicle lights, silver streamers, red foil bows, green holly leaves, and Santas and poinsettias (fake ones) everywhere. Steve had made most of the decorations himself, and he was very proud.
He especially loved the tree. They'd both picked it out, and spent more than they should have. But it was the perfect size for their living room, and the lights were already installed. The tree even played carols, and the lights would flash in sync with the music.
But for some reason, no matter how Steve adjusted the garlands and the ornaments, it didn't look right to him. Bucky insisted it was fine, but Steve didn't want fine, he wanted perfect. It was what Bucky deserved, after spending so many Christmases alone.
Steve had to make sure that he made up for it. He knew that this wasn't his fault, it was Pierce's. But that didn't mean he couldn't try to erase Bucky's bad memories. Or at least help him replace them with good ones. Which was why they had three celebrations that year.
The first had been on the 23rd, with Steve's mother, Sarah. She was still feeling pretty drained after he latest lung infection, but she'd been thrilled to see Bucky again. Even before Steve and Bucky had been dating, she'd always treated him like a son.
Bucky had brought her the sugar cookies he'd made, and Sarah had been delighted. She'd complimented him, and when he explained he'd made every bit by hand, she'd insisted on giving him her gingerbread recipe. "I'd like gingerbread men next year," she'd told him with a smile. It had been a good day, and Bucky was smiling the whole way back to their home.
Christmas Eve, they'd spent with their friends. Tony had hosted a party at his penthouse, and everyone Steve knew had been invited. Bucky had said he was okay with it, but at the party he mostly stayed in the corner, watching everyone. Steve was worried, but then Natasha had whispered something to Bucky, and pulled him over to her boyfriend, Sam.
After that, he'd mingled more, and had even helped Pepper with some of the party games. Steve asked Natasha, "What did you say to him?"
"I told him if he didn't stop moping around like the ghost of Christmas past I'd call in our old unit buddies and make this a real party," she replied, a smirk on her face.
Later, Steve said to Bucky, "If you didn't want to come, you could have told me. Everyone would have understood."
"It's not that," Bucky insisted. "I did want to come. But I was nervous. I didn't know anyone besides you and Natasha, and I'm not as good at starting conversations as I used to be."
Steve had pulled him in for a kiss, which of course brought hooting and cat calls from the others. Bucky flipped them off while kissing the hell out of Steve.
Christmas Day, they'd decided, was going to be just for them. Steve felt a little guilty for leaving his mom out, but she had plans to see her friends, so she wouldn't be alone. She'd said it was fine, and that she wanted Steve and Bucky to come over for New Years Eve. Since she lived outside the city now and all the noise from the celebrations were hell on Bucky's nerves, they'd both readily agreed.
When they woke up Christmas morning, they'd snuggled not wanting to get out of bed. Until Lucy had started barking like crazy, making Steve laugh and Bucky roll his eyes. They'd taken her for a walk, then had breakfast. They exchanged presents after that. They hadn't been able to afford much, only one a piece. But they were both happy.
Steve had gotten Bucky a stand mixer, with several hooks to make it easier for him to make bread. It was his favorite thing to make. And Bucky had gotten Steve a set of gray scale Prismacolor markers, to use for his personal projects.
After that, Bucky had started cooking, and Steve had been poking at the tree again. None of this sat well with Lucy.
She could smell the chicken cooking, and it had her curious. Bucky hadn't wanted to make a ham, something about the smell bothered him but Steve wouldn't press him about it. Lucy loved chicken, and she was sniffing around the kitchen.
Bucky had shooed her away several times, but as the chicken he was making continued to bake, it had been harder and harder to keep her out. Steve had said she couldn't be in the bedroom by herself, as she would scratch at the door and ruin it. Bucky had grudgingly agreed, which led to him fending off Lucy as best he could.
Things escalated when Bucky took the chicken out of the oven. Steve still doesn't know how Lucy did it, as the chicken was close to her size. But she seized the opportunity, and lunged for the chicken. He was so surprised he burned himself with the pan, and the chicken went flying.
Steve looked over just in time to see the little dog come barreling out of the kitchen, chicken in her jaws and hardly able to see. "Lucy, no!" steve shouted, and tried to catch her. But she dodged around him, and circled the tree. The chicken got caught on one of the garlands, and as she bolted for the bedroom, she brought the whole tree down with her.
Ornaments smashed on the floor, and some of the lights went out. The angel had fallen off the top,and hit Steve on the head so hard that he fell to his knees.
"Steve!" Bucky had rushed right over, and knelt next to his boyfriend. "Are you okay? Let me look."
"I'm all right," Steve had said. "And get up! You're kneeling in broken glass!"
Bucky of course hadn't noticed. After he was sure steve was fine, he hauled the smaller man to his feet. Then it was Steve's turn to look Bucky ove. The burn on his hand hadn't been bad, but Steve still marched him to the sink to run cool water over it. Thankfully, the fabric of Bucky's jeans was thick enough that he hadn't cut himself.
"How's your hand?" Steve asked.
"Hurts, but I'll live," Bucky replied. He sounded angry.
Steve went and turned the stove off, and said, "Stay here, I'm gonna get Lucy." He went to the bedroom, and found Lucy on her dog bed, happily going to town on the chicken. Steve wrestled it away from her, then said, "Lucy! Bad girl! Very bad! No treats!"
The dog looked confused, and followed Steve to the kitchen, eyes still on the chicken. Bucky still looked mad as hell, but he didn't lash out and start yelling. He'd been working hard on his temper, and every time he kept himself in check, Steve's admiration for him grew. Bucky grabbed the spray bottle, and asked, "Steve, would you hand me the chicken please?"
Steve did as Bucky asked, and when Lucy started jumping for it, he squirted her with the water. "No! Bad dog! You know better than that!"
Lucy was startled, and her ears dropped. She walked out of the kitchen, and went to the corner by the bedroom, her 'naughty corner'. Steve watched as Bucky dumped the chicken in the sink, and he said, "Buck..."
But Bucky held up his hand. "I'm not ready to talk yet, Steve."
Steve nodded, and went to sweep up the glass from the ornaments. He waited for over an hour for Bucky to be ready to talk. Lucy pouting in her corner, and Bucky cleaning up in the kitchen. There was a lot of tension in the air.
Finally, Bucky came into the living room and said, "I think we're gonna have to order out."
Steve frowned. "Really? Why?"
"Nothing's turned out okay. Lucy probably did us a favor. The potatoes are water, the rolls are burned, the less I say about the yams and green beans, the better. The only thing that was edible was the chicken." Bucky's expression was hard, but Steve could see tears in his eyes.
Steve sighed and said, "That's okay." He pulled Bucky into a hug and added, "You tried."
"I wanted it to be perfect," he said, voice tight.
"I know buddy, me too," Steve replied. "So how about we order some Chinese food, have some hot chocolate, and watch The Island of Misfit Toys?" He knew that would cheer Bucky up, it was his favorite ever since they were kids.
"You're not mad?" Bucky asked.
"Not if you're not mad at me for the tree falling over and the ornaments getting wrecked."
That made Bucky laugh, but when Steve pulled away he could see he was still crying a little. "I didn't know she could run so fast."
"I didn't know she could carry a whole chicken," Steve said, and that got them both laughing. They ended up ordering Chinese food, and tipped the delivery person handsomely. And when they'd settled in and were watching the movie was when Lucy came over.
She still looked guilty and sad, and Steve looked at Bucky. It was his grand feast that had been ruined, after all. So Bucky was in charge of determining whether or not Lucy was still being punished.
Bucky sighed, and patted the couch cushion between himself and Steve. Lucy eagerly jumped up, and sprawled across Bucky's lap. Bucky scratched her belly and said, "We're getting a baby gate for the kitchen so you can't do that again ya little shit." Lucy was happily panting.
It wasn't a picture perfect Christmas, but despite the doggie disaster, it was the best Christmas ever. At least so far.