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It was Bucky’s first Christmas back. He was still quiet. He didn’t talk much - in fact, he didn’t make much sound at all, and it creeped the hell out of Tony every time he turned around and he was /there/, out of nowhere, it seemed. But actually, he was getting used to having the guy around. He only jumped one foot instead of three when he appeared out of no where, and the sudden extra presence in the lab or on the couch watching movies at three in the morning with him was almost a comfort.
But it was really, /really/ hard to find the perfect gift for an ex-assassin who never said a word and wasn’t entirely comfortable expressing wants of his own, unsurprisingly enough. He sighed. He’d been reliably informed that his gifts were generally over the top and a little intimidating. He still didn’t see what was wrong with buying someone a car, or a horse, or a 7-foot-tall rabbit, but apparently it wasn’t appreciated.
So what on earth did James Bucky Barnes want for Christmas?
Tony sighed a little as he scanned the internet. Two days left… Aha.
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“Tony,” Steve said cautiously on Christmas day. “Why is Bucky’s gift.. moving?”
“Shhhh,” he shushed Steve and carried on with what he was doing.
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“Huh. Not a bad idea,” Natasha said, appearing out of nowhere behind him. “James’ gift.”
Tony yelped. “What is it with you Russian Assassins and sneaking up on people?” he accused, waving a giant ladle at her from where he’d been starting on Christmas dinner. “Stop that!”
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Bucky was quiet on Christmas. Well, that was no surprise. But it was gift time! And Tony was all but bouncing. He’d gotten something special for everyone, but Bucky’s was his favourite - and the most risky. He just hoped it went well. When it was finally James’ turn, the ex-assassin looked at his small mountain of gifts warily, and then at the awfully fidgety one from Tony. Noises could be heard from inside, scuffling. He opened that one last - and out bounded the most adorable, three-legged husky. The dog threw himself at Bucky, who looked astounded. Tony watched with anticipation as Bucky first went blank, then paused, and reached out with his flesh hand to touch the dog’s soft fur cautiously.
“He’s four,” Tony explained quickly. “Certified as a service animal, actually, very well behaved.” It was a therapy dog. “His name’s Baloo, but apparently he answers to Blue, too.”
Bucky didn’t even acknowledge that Tony had spoken, too wrapped up in the fluffy animal bowling him over. He was smiling, though, and honestly, that was a rare thing. Tony grinned to himself a little, pleased that this seemed to be working.
After a moment, Bucky finally noticed Tony again. He paused, a hand still stroking through Baloo’s fluff, and looked at him. “…Thank you.”
Tony nodded. “My pleasure, big guy. He’ll need good long walks.” A good way to get Bucky out a little, he figured. “I, uh, picked up the rest, too, toys, a bed, food, leashes…” He shrugged. “And a little vest so he can go places with you and no one will bother you.”
Bucky nodded, considering Tony. Tony fidgeted a little under the intense gaze, and Bucky looked away again. Everyone was watching now, and one by one, they filed out, leaving Tony and Bucky alone. Tony stood, making his way over to Bucky. He paused, and looked up. “…Mistletoe,” he murmured, pointing.
Bucky looked blank for a moment, and then realization dawned. Tony’s heart thudded a little as Bucky reached out to him hesitantly, and pressed a brief kiss to Tony’s lips, before drawing back uncertainly. Tony’s eyes widened - he hadn’t expected Bucky to play along - and he reached out just as Bucky was pulling back, drawing him into a longer kiss this time, his fingers tangling in Bucky’s hair.
Suddenly, they were nudged apart by a barking, fluffy mess,a dn Tony burst out laughing. “Cockblocked by a dog,” he shook his head, bemused. “I, uh…” He looked up at James, who looked uncertain. “Dinner? Sometime?” he asked quickly, turning a little pink.
James looked taken aback, but he nodded slowly. “Dinner sounds nice,” he agreed with a small smile. “Merry Christmas, Tony.”
“Merry Christmas.”