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“Why am I even here?” Bucky asked out the corner of his mouth, his tone clear if Darcy’s side-eye was anything to go by.
“Who else would wear a couple's Christmas sweater with me?” Darcy paused, then smiled sweetly. “Plus, you need to get laid. You’re grumpy, irate, annoying and this party might have someone who can remove that stick out of your ass and replace it with something more…well, stick-like.”
“Jesus Christ, Lewis. I am not a grump,” Bucky retorted grumpily, then sighed hard enough it blew away a long strand of hair that had fallen over his face. “Also, I need you to note that I did not agree to wear a ‘couple’s’ sweater to a stranger's Christmas party.”
“Practically a stranger,” Darcy smirked, “yet, here you are…”
“Under duress.” Bucky hissed as Clint strode up, grabbing Darcy in a large full-bodied hug.
Bucky still couldn’t get a read on the guy he and Darcy had met at the gym three months earlier. He seemed friendly enough, in a large golden retriever kind of way. But there was something odd about his voice, or his large frame or maybe it was the small skin-toned plaster across the bridge of his nose that Bucky couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was driving him nuts.
Clint was also incredibly affectionate.
“Thanks for the invite,” Darcy said as Clint moved across and lifted Bucky up off his feet, spinning him once for good measure. It was equal parts impressive as Bucky was solidly built, and mortifying because he was not a piece of lettuce in a salad spinner.
He tried not to think that it was the most action he'd seen in the better part of a year.
“So glad you could make it,” Clint said with a grin, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder once with a surprisingly strong grip. Clearly Clint didn’t skip hand day at the gym.
“We wouldn’t miss the soiree of the year.”
“So…” Clint trailed off and looked between their sweaters with a sharp bark of laughter. “Tinsel Tits and Jingle Balls.”
Darcy beamed. “What can I say - I wear the balls in this friendship.”
Once again Bucky lamented the fact he’d been forced into a sparkly sweater with the words ‘Tinsel Tits’ emblazoned across the front. Even if his tits were fabulous.
Clint’s rainbow striped sweater with a cartoon print of He-man singing ‘Heyyeye - Merry Christmas’ was inspired and Bucky really needed to do some research into sweaters for the next year. Not that he was starting to enjoy the holiday season. Not at all.
“Who’s that absolute smokeshow?” Darcy whisper-shouted, then pointed across the room. Bucky slapped her arm down. It was worse than having an embarrassing little sister; because he chose to be best friends with Darcy.
Clint’s expression changed from dopey to something altogether more fond, tinged with…longing.
“That’s Nat, she’s my partner.”
“Oh, you have to introduce us - I didn’t know you were loved up.” Darcy exclaimed excitedly.
A stricken look passed over Clint’s face, followed closely by a blast of red. Bucky couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, the poor bastard.
“Not like that. I mean work partner. We do a lot of work together. Not the other…no not partner, partner.”
“Hmm, well I still want an introduction. She looks like she could kill me with a glare and a flick of her wrist. I like it.”
“You’re not wrong,” Clint chuckled under his breath, looking over Bucky’s shoulder. “Ohh, hang tight, I’ll be back in a minute, I didn’t realise Johnny could make it.”
Clint bounded off into the press of bodies, a booming ‘shots-on’ following soon after.
“What I would give for half his energy,” Bucky said and took the first sip of his egg-nog, nearly spitting it back out as the burn hit his mouth.
“Strong, isn’t it?” Darcy said, then looked Bucky dead in the eye and drained the remnants in her glass.
“Oh, no you fucking don’t,” Bucky upended his glass, eyes bleary by the time it was gone.
“You are too easy,” she laughed in response.
“Tell that to some of the guys here.”
“And there is the patented Bucky bite we love to see.”
“Pipe-down,” Bucky replied with the smallest of smiles, “now, feel free to top me up.”
“That’s why we are here - to get you topped up,” Darcy laughed at his harangued expression and grabbed his glass. “That’s my boy.”
It was either going to be a very long, or exceedingly short night.
As the drinks flowed, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what Clint’s deal was for the millionth time. The apartment was large and well presented, bigger than Bucky thought a gym rat could afford, but it was the small homey touches that made it interesting. Even though it was dark and coloured lights flashed everywhere, he swore he saw a photo of Clint with the former President, and a few scattered with a dark haired girl (daughter maybe) with arrows strapped to their backs? Maybe he was into cosplay?
Bucky was keen to find Clint’s doggo though and give them a belly rub as he’d seen the food bowl in the kitchen when we went to find water. Lucky sounded like an adorably small and cute puppy.
When he’d returned, Darcy had given him so much shit for his clear glass of liquid, but he was a man in his thirties, he couldn’t drink pure alcohol all night without taking some precautions for his future self. One glass of water for every five eggnogs would help…right?
Bucky wasn’t drunk though, not even close, well, maybe a little - but he couldn’t help wondering if his vision was impaired as every other person in the room looked familiar. As he was trying to work out if it was in the ‘I’m a celebrity, get me out of here’ way, or the egg-nog goggles were out, or just that Clint knew a bunch of ridiculously good looking people, Darcy started to speak.
“Who the fuck is that?”
Speak was being generous, she was practically yelling in his ear to be heard over Andy William’s crooning.
“Who?”
“What do you mean, who? That tall, lanky, epitome of hotness over there.”
Bucky looked over his glass in the general direction she was gesturing to. “The long haired emo guy who clearly shops in Lego Batman pty?”
“What does that even mean? As in he doesn’t have parents?”
“How would I know that? No he clearly only wears black or very dark grey.”
“You, Dickless, you need a life,” Darcy raised a brow.
“I have one thank you, and a dick too.”
“Yeah but you’re never going to use said dick again if Lego Batman is your go-to comeback.” Darcy downed her drink and slammed the empty glass onto the windowsill they were hovering in front of. “I’m going over.”
“Over where?”
“To Lego Batman of course. I wanna check out his dance moves, see if his underwear is black too.”
Bucky baulked. “You can’t leave me here.”
“Of course I can, you’re a big boy now.” Darcy said and took one step away before Bucky grasped her arm.
“I came with you.”
“And if you’re lucky you’ll be going home with someone else.”
“The fuck?”
“Happy hunting, Tinsel Tits.”
“You know I’m leaving as soon as you walk away,” Bucky threatened, annoyed that Darcy was looking over his shoulder and not giving him attention. The smile that slowly crept across her face was unnerving.
“I bet you fifty that you’re not going anywhere.”
“Easy money.”
Bucky turned and immediately in his field of vision was the broadest man he’d ever seen; his muscled back was made for climbing, his shoulder to waist ratio too ridiculous to exist anywhere outside of a comic book. And to top off the perfection of Bucky’s walking fantasy, that honestly had to be an egg-nog mirage at this point, encasing that gorgeously huge frame was a thick cable knit sweater that looked perfect for nuzzling into from behind.
“Maybe I’ll stay for five more minutes,” he gasped.
“Called it. You know my bank deets,” Darcy’s laugh was knowing as she walked away. But he couldn’t be annoyed, not when his future husband was walking around having no idea the love of his life was currently ogling him. He’d not even seen the man’s face yet, but he didn’t need to.
It was fate.
Bucky made himself comfortable in his little corner of the apartment, eyes glued to the new arrival. The room was full of people jostling, hugging, laughing and catching up; the egg-nog had its intended effect and inhibitions were lowered. But the love of Bucky's life still hadn’t turned his way. He was caught between a tall brunette woman and a scary looking man with an eye patch. If it had been Clint, Bucky would have run across the room for an introduction. As it stood, he sipped at his nog and daydreamed about wrapping a bow around himself and giving the man the present of a lifetime.
The man's hair appeared to be light, dirty blonde maybe, it was hard to tell when red, white and blue christmas lights continued to flash, giving a patriotic appearance for a moment. He caught a side profile for less than a second and sucked in a breath, the man’s nose was slightly crooked, which was hotness personified, but it was the beard that made Bucky’s knees weak.
He had a thing for big men with scruffy beards.
Well, he did now.
Bucky had no idea how long he stood probably not so discreetly ogling the man, but he’d also managed to witness Santa and Rudolph dirty dancing, someone in a ‘go Jesus, it’s your birthday sweater’ fall into the Christmas tree and Darcy and Lego Batman fall deeply into a conversation with hands flailing everywhere. Lego Batman sure could smirk sexily though, Bucky’d give him that.
As Bucky’s mind drifted into a world of wondering how many balls of wool would be required to make a cable knit sweater the size of a small horse, he realised he couldn’t see the object of his…admittedly over-the-top desire.
“Well, fuck.”
If he’d left before Bucky could make grabby hands at that ass, he would be devastated.
Pushing away from the window he’d been leaning against, Bucky braved his way through the crowd, capturing a glimpse of dark blonde hair ducking into another room.
Not wanting to look like a stalker, Bucky didn’t follow immediately, as much as he wanted to.
“You must be James,” a smoky voice stated from behind him.
Bucky tried not to frown at hearing his given name, Darcy had to be behind it. He didn’t know anyone else at the party, unless the person was a spy. Bucky smiled at the stupidity of the thought.
“I prefer Tinsel Tits thanks,” he quipped and turned to come face-to-face with Clint’s work partner .
“Oh thank god, James is so 1911.”
Bucky could appreciate a gorgeous, strong female and the one standing before him, hip cocked, a knowing smirk on her face, was lethal. Thank god he was gay. He smiled, liking her already.
“Oddly specific, but true.”
“I’m Natasha,” she introduced herself, eyes flicking over his shoulder for a microsecond before holding his again. “Are you single?”
Bucky spluttered his recently acquired egg-nog and coughed loudly. “I’m gay, I like dick.”
Why on earth had he clarified what gay was?
“Yes, kind of comes with the territory. Are you single?” Natasha asked again, a tone in her voice that was either fondness or impatience. He was betting on the latter.
“Yes…” he drew out, not certain if he was somehow signing up to have his kidney stolen. Clint did have a lot of ice arriving earlier, and Bucky noticed the tub in the bathroom.
“Excellent. Do you have a type?”
“You do realise this is a strange way to start a conversation, right?” Bucky said fondly, the need to respond to her quickly rising in his throat at her steely eyed gaze. “Okay, I’ll play. Big, beardy, strong with lots of stamina and who likes cats and coffee.”
“Five out of six ain’t bad…” Natasha half said under her breath. “You can stop hiding now.”
“What are you…” Bucky trailed off as a man…no, the man, walked slowly through the crowd of people, everyone parting as he made his way towards them. His face chiseled, perfect and sittable.
“I do like cats,” the man spoke to Natasha quietly and Bucky shivered. The deep timbre of the man’s voice was like syrup, coating Bucky completely in a haze of lust. The words didn't even make sense, but they didn’t have to. Bucky was a goner and it had been less than three seconds of partial interaction.
“Next time you can ask then,” Natasha smirked.
“Hopefully there won’t be one.”
Bucky had never been to a tennis match, but he wondered if it was like watching the two people before him volley shots of conversation at the other. His head moved from one to the other as they poked good natured barbs until Natasha turned and left with a small knowing smile and finger wave. Bucky took the opportunity to look down at the broad chest covered in cable -
Oh fucking hell, Bucky could not believe the front of the knitted sweater, it was obscene, it was hilarious, it did not track with the gorgeous man standing before him.
A reindeer, with its butt-hole made of red tinsel, looked directly back at him with the words, ‘Santa's view on Christmas Eve’ sprawled underneath. It was tacky, ridiculous and Bucky fell deeper in love.
“Hole, hole, hole - Merry Christmas.” The adonis said with a shrug, his cheeks slightly pink.
‘No…no way,” Bucky said. “You can't just stand there, looking like that and say one of the most objectively funny puns I've heard in my life.”
“But wait there's myrrh,” the man smirked.
“Unfuckingbelievable.” Bucky grinned as wide as his face would allow. “Seems that good things do come in tall packages after all.”
“Oh deer, that was a terrible line.”
"How rude-olf of you. Did it work?"
The man’s laugh was more akin to a roar, his whole body became involved as he threw his head back and let it out. It was glorious. He had a neck Bucky wanted to nibble on. The man hadn’t answered his question.
“I’m Steve,” the man chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes and a genuine smile that Bucky had a suspicion wasn’t given to everyone. Well, he hoped not anyway.
It took until the smile faltered for Bucky to realise that he’d not responded. At all.
“Buchanen Barnes, err, James, Jimmy. Fuck, just call me Bucky….or whatever you like.” He was a bonafide idiot.
Steve’s eyebrow rose, “that was a mouthful.”
“You have no idea,” Bucky shot back with a wink and cursed the inevitable betrayal of his smart mouth. He needed damage control, but Steve was already speaking.
“I look forward to finding out if that's true first hand, Bucky.”
Bucky’s mouth fell open, his heart hammered so fast his ribs creaked and his dick engaged, all on board for anything this man was willing to give. And Bucky’s name sliding out from between those lips was carnal. Jesus, he was in public and a mess already.
“Want a top up?” Bucky asked, gesturing to Steve’s empty glass, needing to say something that wasn’t a proposition. Plus it was an excuse to keep talking, see if they had more common ground than Christmas puns. But to be fair, Bucky wouldn’t care if that was it; it was more than he’d had with some previous partners.
“Come with me,” Steve beckoned with a sly smile and somebody needed to get a shovel and bury Bucky. He was dead. Death by blood rush to the dick. “I know where Clint keeps the good stuff.”
Bucky grinned and followed Steve and his compelling form towards the kitchen.
Christmas had never looked so good.
Bucky had no idea how long they stood in the kitchen chatting inanely for. Steve's hip rested on a counter full of empty alcohol bottles and Bucky leant against the sink. Not a huge amount of space existed between their bodies, and Bucky found it hard to concentrate whilst under the intense blue gaze. He hoped against hope he wasn't giving up all his embarrassing secrets, having a tendency to overshare in social situations if there was a lull in the conversation.
They had only topped their glasses up once in the hour or so they'd been together, too busy talking about their respective lives. It was a nice feeling, knowing that it wasn't the alcohol that kept it going. Steve had been guarded about opening up at first, his conversation stilted when it came to his upbringing and his job, but Bucky didn’t press, he didn’t need to know everything about Steve immediately. If anything, Bucky was impressed that if his oversharing and forwardness hadn’t frightened Steve off yet, then it wasn’t likely to.
For that, he was glad, because Bucky desperately wanted to not only wrap his legs around Steve’s head and waist, but wanted to have dinner with him, snuggle up for a movie, potentially even have him meet his mom. Winifred would go spare if he brought home ‘tall, not-so-dark and drop dead handsome’. It might even make up for the time he introduced the kleptomaniac that stole her commemorative plate for a European Royal Wedding he’d never heard of.
But he was getting ahead of himself.
Although Bucky could sense the off-the-charts chemistry between them, he couldn't help worrying that it might fall flat once they touched.
The lack of mistletoe hanging from any surface was irresponsible.
What the hell kind of Christmas party was Clint holding?
Just as he was about to find a picture of mistletoe on his phone and hold it above his head, somebody covered his eyes.
“Darcy, I know your perfume too well, considering I gave you that bottle.”
“Well, I feel like it's time you bought me another one then,” she responded, removing her hands. Bucky immediately saw that Steve had taken a step back, his mouth pulled down at the corner. “Looks like you found a new friend, going to introduce me?”
Bucky didn’t love the teasing smirk in her voice, he’d also not transferred the money over yet and she wasn't going to forget it. He loved her dearly, but also wanted to shake her to her toes sometimes.
“Darcy, this is Steve. Steve, Darcy.” He kept it short, sharp and shiny, hoping she'd get the hint to leave.
Steve nodded hello, but still hadn't said anything, his eyes currently moving between Bucky and then Darcy's chests as she started to talk about interlocking lego in too much detail.
Was Steve judging their choice of Christmas sweaters? Surely he couldn't, not with the monstrosity currently emblazoned across his own chest.
“So yeah - I’m going to head off with Loki, check out this other party, and will meet you for brunch tomorrow, not breakfast as planned.”
Bucky still couldn’t get a read on Steve’s expression, his easy smile had disappeared, his brow pinched, and shoulders slightly sagged.
Hang on…Loki?
“You’re awful at listening when cock-struck.” She said loudly, Steve blinking once at her crassness.
“What the hell?” Bucky spluttered, Darcy's laughter all too knowing.
“I said Loki and I are off to another party, so I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Loki? Don't you mean Lego?”
“Oh my god, James - you’re also incredibly thick when cock-struck.”
“Can you please stop saying cock?” He hissed in her general direction, mortified.
“Never,” Darcy called as she slipped into the crowd.
Bucky turned back to Steve, whose eyes were averted, jaw tight. Shit, had he messed up everything…had Darcy? Surely the words cock hadn't made him wary? If it did, maybe Bucky had read the entire situation wrong.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?” Bucky asked with a frown, needing Steve to narrow it down. A lot bothered Bucky in general, he didn’t want to get his complaints wrong.
“That your girl-”
“Brother!” A booming voice called across the kitchen space, and within a second Steve was enveloped by a huge blonde man and Bucky watched wide-eyed as Steve gripped him back.
“Thor, I didn’t think you were making it down this week?”
As the two insanely large men chatted, Bucky took a step back, then another.
The reality of the situation finally hitting him.
Clint.
Natasha.
Loki.
Thor.
Steve…
He’d been pine-ing over Captain fucking America. Not only that, but he’d been flirting outrageously with one of the most virtuous of men, the literal flag of the USA emblazoned across his chest. He was not going to be into dicking Bucky down for the Christmas break and beyond.
Fuck his life.
He fled.
The fire escape was twinkling with a soft white glow, the string of lights tacked around the bar making it appear magical. But it was the coloured ones running around the window that blinked furiously on and off that made Bucky’s eye twitch. Or maybe that was the embarrassment of imagining sucking down Captain America’s dick like an icecream on a 104 degree day for the rest of his life.
“You’re a dick,” Bucky breathed out, his exhale creating puffs in the chilled air. He then took a moment to see if he could make rings appear by huffing like his dad used to do.
He could not.
A soft chuckle broke him from his fifth attempt. "Yule be sorry you missed Clint’s famous Christmas speech.”
Bucky spun quickly, heat infusing his cheeks at finding Steve standing before him, holding a warm glass of what smelt like mulled wine out. He took the proffered drink gingerly, unsure what to say. How to act. But the smile at Steve's pun came unbidden, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating.
“So,“ Steve continued and blew across the top of his glass, Bucky wondering if heat could even hurt Steve. “I’ve been informed that I’m an idiot and that you’re not with jingle balls.”
Bucky snorted a laugh and rubbed a hand over his face.
“The only jingle balls I have are mine, but I’m in the market for a matching set.”
Bucky baulked, not believing he’d just said that out loud. To another human being.
Steve’s grin turned megawatt. “And what about tinsel tits?”
“Can’t a guy rock both?”
“He can, and does.” Steve conceded and took a sip from his glass.
Bucky grinned.
“Captain America, hey?”
Steve winced and shrugged before taking another sip.
“To be fair, I thought you knew. Is it a problem?”
“I don’t know…is it?” Bucky asked plainly. He didn’t want it to be an issue, but who knew what an Avenger could or couldn’t have.
“The only problem I see is the lack of mistletoe anywhere in Clint’s apartment.”
“Oh my god, yes! What kind of a sham Christmas party is this?”
Steve took another tentative step towards Bucky, taking the glass from his hand and placing it on the railing. It looked precarious but Bucky figured if anyone could make it safe it would be Captain America.
Another more confident step and Bucky’s breath caught.
“Do you believe in love at frost sight?" Steve whispered as his hands came up to grasp Bucky's hips, his head lowering until Bucky could feel the warmth of breath tickle across his lips.
"Sleigh, what?!" he exclaimed with the biggest, dopiest grin of his life; pitching forward to capture Steve’s lips with his.
It was warm, sweet and spicy like the wine they'd just consumed, and Bucky had no trouble deepening it, gripping the back of Steve's head and pulling him down with a grunt.
Steve took all of three seconds to deepen the kiss, his tongue filling Bucky's mouth deliciously. The push and pull of them both trying to take control sending a thrill of anticipation down Bucky's spine.
There was absolutely no issue with their chemistry translating to the physical, Bucky was hard pressed not to climb up onto Steve, wrap his legs around him and beg to be filled.
“Jesus, you can't say things like that to me. Not when I can't act on it immediately.”
Bucky's cheeks heated, having no idea he'd been saying his fantasies out loud.
Nipping at the corner of Steve's lips, he pulled back with a grin at the shuddered breath, glad Steve was just as affected by their kiss as he was.
“Did you want to feel the front of my Christmas sweater?” Bucky asked. “It's made of boyfriend material.”
Steve's laugh filled the space, warming Bucky up from the inside, before smashing their lips together again for a hot, deep and steamy kiss.
"Hold on for deer life. This is going to be one hell of a ride." Steve smiled against his lips.
Bucky did, and would for as long as Steve would have him. Even if stupid puns were what they built a relationship on.
As Steve kissed him again, Bucky nestled into the warmth knowing that this Christmas would be the first of many together. A lifetime even.
But he did owe Darcy.
He’d buy her a Lego Batman in the morning.