Chapter Text
1. Christmas Eve
The call came from Nat at two in the afternoon. “It’s happening,” she said, in her usual drawl. “The baby is on his way.”
“How can you be this calm?” Sam shouted from somewhere farther away from the phone. “This is happening. It’s happening!”
“It’s not happening to you, you big baby.” Steve could practically hear Natasha rolling her eyes. “Steve, tell your friend that he needs to take a deep breath and decenter himself from this narrative.”
Bucky was watching Steve with wide eyes, a roll of wrapping paper in his hand, forgotten. “Is it the baby?” he whispered.
“Why did you get the call and not us?” Steve asked. He nodded to Bucky, who pumped his free fist and jumped up to do a victory dance. Steve put down the box of very expensive pens he had been wrapping for Bucky’s mother on the floor of their living room and flipped him off. “Aren’t we uncles too?”
“Again, this isn’t about you. But if you must know, Nakia trusted me enough to tell me where they keep their go bag. Since she and T’Challa went straight to the birth center from the restaurant where they were trying to enjoy one of their last meals as free people, she needs me to go to their townhouse and get the bag for them. Sam and I are headed there now.”
“Oh, okay. Great. Um, I hope it goes well.”
“Not so fast,” Nat said. “You think you’re off the hook? We were going to go and pick up Sarah and the boys from the airport tonight. So guess what you get to do on your Christmas Eve now.”
Shit. Steve loved Sam’s sister and his nephews. But this was truly awful timing. The lights of his and Bucky’s derpy little tree were glowing, the video of the yule log was crackling on the screen of their television, Bing Crosby was crooning about white Christmases, and Bucky was grinning at him with a gleaming red bow perched on top of his hair. “Couldn’t you and Sam just—”
“I won’t be driving any time soon.”
From beyond the phone’s microphone, Sam shouted, “Vodka shots, Steve. Like, seven of them.”
Steve dropped his elbow onto his knee and his face into his hand. “Hell.”
“Yep,” Nat agreed. “So it’s up to you, bright eyes. Or Bucky. But not both of you, because that back seat of yours isn’t big enough for any three people, even though the boys have little behinds. And you better leave quick.”
“T’Challa II has very bad timing,” Steve muttered, but he dragged himself up off the living room floor. “Text me the flight details.”
“On it. You’re a genuine hero. Happy Christmas, kotyonok.”
Bucky barely waited until Steve had hung up the phone. “I told you!” he said, pointing in Steve’s face, still with that shit-eating grin. “I told you that was going to be a Christmas baby. You had better pay up.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve headed down the hallway to the bedroom to get changed out of his pajamas. “If he is born after midnight, you’ll get your money. But Nakia’s got a few hours to get the job done.”
“The odds are in my favor. Admit it, Rogers: you lost.”
“Why are you so happy? This is throwing off your whole evening.” It painted Steve to shove his ridiculous red and black checkered pants off and kick them onto the bed. They matched Bucky’s because they’d picked them out together from the sale rack at the store down the street, and he had never loved a pair of stupid pajamas more.
Bucky shrugged and leaned against the door jamb. “I’ll finish up the wrapping for you and I’ll have the hot cocoa ready when you get back. This is important. This is the start of something big. It’s going to be a great Christmas, a great new year. Can’t you feel it?”
It was supposed to be. Tonight was going to be the beginning of the rest of Steve’s life. More than Christmas, more than the new year, more than new babies and visiting family and all of it. Tonight was the eve of something bigger. But now it was on hold.
Steve pulled on his jeans and sat down on the edge of the bed to tug on some socks. “LaGuardia is going to be a madhouse tonight. By the time I get back from dropping off Sarah and the kids at Sam’s you’re going to be passed out cold. You’re not fooling anyone.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Bucky laughed. He came into the room and caught up Steve’s face between his palms before he could stand up again. A few kisses pressed against Steve’s lips and then his forehead made him sigh and relax. “I’ll go make you a thermos of hot cocoa for the road. And some snacks for AJ and Cass. Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“Think of how excited they’re going to be to see you at the airport,” Bucky called behind himself as he headed out of the bedroom, looking warm and perfect in his cheap pajamas and fluffy socks. “You’re going to be Sarah’s favorite brother after this.”
When Bucky was safely clattering around in the kitchen, Steve stooped to pick up his pajama pants. He dug through the pocket, pulled out the little box, and slid it back underneath a pile of sweaters on the shelf in the closet.
He bowed his head, tried to let go of the thrill of adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins all evening, and turned to head out into the cold.
There was always tomorrow.
2. Christmas Day
Bucky had gone all out for Christmas.
By the time Steve had slid into their bed late on Christmas Eve, Bucky had been dead asleep and hadn’t even stirred when Steve gave him a kiss on his cheek. This morning, he had snuck out of bed without waking Steve up and by the time Steve wandered into the kitchen, yawning, he had Christmas in full swing.
Their thrifted record player played a well-loved and crackly Ella Fitzgerald Christmas album, their tree glowed, the whole apartment smelled like maple sausage and coffee, and Bucky was literally pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven.
“Merry Christmas!” Bucky called out as soon as the cookies were set down and he noticed Steve in the doorway. “Sit. I’ll bring you some coffee as soon as I get the French toast casserole in the oven. We’ll wait to make the frosting until after breakfast and presents, don’t you think?”
“Yep,” Steve agreed, taking his usual seat. The best he could do for Bucky in these little domestic frenzies was follow directions and get out of the way. The coffee was delivered quickly, along with a smile and a soft kiss.
“How are Sarah and the boys?” Bucky asked as he turned his attention back to getting the sugar cookies onto a plate.
“Snug at Sam’s place. Sam actually got home with Nat at the same time I was dropping them off.”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on the group chat and have seen nothing about T’Challa II. Did you get any news from them about it? Tell me now,” Bucky warned, pointing the spatula at Steve. “Is he born? Was he a Christmas baby?”
Steve held up his hands in surrender. “I know nothing. Nat just ran in with the bag and dropped it off, so she has no news for me. I’ll know when you know, and no sooner.”
Sighing deeply, Bucky went back to his work. “Useless to me. Did AJ and Cass at least treat you like hero you are?”
“They were sad it wasn’t you picking them up, and you know it.”
“I can’t help it that I’m the fun uncle.”
“And I can’t help it that I don’t understand why the kids are yelling six-seven and yeet all the time.”
“I forgot I’m living with the oldest thirty year old in recorded history. I’ll let you hand over their presents when they come over later today and you can take all the credit. Maybe that will win you some points.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” Steve muttered into his coffee, but he couldn’t help but grin. This year, the same as last year, he found himself thinking that Christmas couldn’t possibly get any better than this.
It can’t get any better, he thought as he watched Bucky humming. And yet somehow it does. Every day that I get to spend with him is better than the last. Now is it. Now is the time.
Steve set his coffee down and he stood up. That little box was back in his pajama pocket, and the time was never going to be more perfect. This was it.
“Hey,” Steve said, as Bucky put the baking sheet in the sink and Steve came to stand behind him. “Have I said merry Christmas yet?”
“I wasn’t expecting it until after you had at least one cup of coffee,” Bucky said, and turned to smile at him. “Are you excited for today? I’ve got all the presents wrapped and under the tree.”
“There is exactly one present I want today.” Steve took a deep breath to summon up his courage.
With a laugh, Bucky threw his arms around Steve’s shoulders to draw their bodies close together. “That can definitely be arranged, but it will have to wait until everyone else has gone home for the night. Unless you think we can sneak it in early? My parents aren’t here yet.”
That surprised a laugh out of Steve, but he shook his head as he let his hands rest on Bucky’s hips. “Tempting. But that’s not what I meant.”
Bucky frowned at him, one hand buried in his hair and undoubtedly making his bedhead even worse. “Was it on your list? I hope you told me that it was so important to you.”
“Bucky—”
The Ella Fitzgerald album ended almost at the exact moment that an enthusiastic knock at the door interrupted Steve with finality. Bucky’s eyes opened wide. “That’s gotta be my mom. Man, they are really early.” His arms dropped from Steve’s shoulders as he went to open the door. “Fuck, I thought they were going to the hotel first.”
It was strange to feel both happiness and resentment as they went together to greet Bucky’s parents at the door. Steve sighed to himself even as he helped hang up coats and jackets and take bags of presents.
They were all here together. They were happy. That’s what mattered. What came next could wait just a little longer.
3. The Day After Christmas
“Cold as hell out here,” Bucky muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Whose idea was this?”
“Yours, you punk.”
They were walking in Prospect Park in the early afternoon, taking a slightly more scenic route back to the apartment from Nat and Sam’s house to admire the dusting of snow on the trees and grass. It had been Bucky’s idea, but Steve had agreed to it quickly because this was shaping up to be the only private moment they would have today between all of the different events that their friends had planned.
It was a cliche, maybe, to get down on one knee at the park, but Steve wasn’t above that kind of blatant sentimentality. And few people were crazy enough to be out here in the cold, so it wasn’t like there was going to be a big crowd gawking. The last few people they had seen had been joggers who looked like there were doubting their life choices and wanted nothing more than to go home and finish the rest of the eggnog in the fridge.
“Terrible idea. Talk me out of it next time, will you?”
“I swear to never listen to another idea out of your mouth.”
“You’re only bitter because T’Challa II was a Christmas baby after all and you owe me twenty bucks that I still haven’t seen.”
“It’s been twenty-four hours, Buck.”
“Poor excuse for picking a man’s pocket.”
Steve looked up and down the path, wondering if the bridge over the lake would be clear enough for the picture-perfect scene that he had been envisioning. Maybe if he just moved a little ways away from the overflowing garbage can where someone had left a whole cardboard box just sitting on the ground…
“Did you hear that?” Bucky asked.
Not at first. But as they stopped and the crunching of their feet in the snow paused with them, Steve could make out the sound of tiny, plaintive meows. And it was very clearly coming from the little box beside the garbage can.
Oh no, Steve thought. No no no.
“Could that be…?” Bucky didn’t hesitate to go straight to the box and drop into a crouch, the bottom of his long coat brushing the snow as he reached for the top and opened it. “Steve!”
Still with no hesitation or regard for personal safety, Bucky plucked the kitten up out of the box and cradled it to his chest as he stood up to show Steve. Content to be held for the moment, the little white ball of fur blinked blue eyes at Steve as though to say “This is my show now, peasant. Good luck proposing.”
“Steve, look at this thing. What asshole just left this out here! They could have frozen to death. What the hell is wrong with people?”
“Maybe someone got it for Christmas and decided they couldn’t take care of it.”
“Then take it to the shelter, my god.” Bucky seemed to have no problem being outraged and gentle at the same time, running a careful finger between the cat’s ears and down its snowy back before scritching under its chin. It soaked up the attention but its little meows picked up again. “I’ll bet it’s starving. There’s that vet just down the street from the apartment. Let’s see if they can take a walk in. We can find out what kind of food it needs and if it’s healthy.”
Steve stood still on the path and watched Bucky start to walk away, watching his whole afternoon and probably the rest of his life changing right in front of his eyes. Bucky was holding that cat like it was a baby he was going to cherish forever.
But soon enough Bucky turned around and looked back at him, pausing in the cold morning light and smiling at him over the kitten’s head. “Come on!
“Damn,” Steve muttered to himself, breath frosting in front of his mouth. But he couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m coming.”
4. Saturday (The Day After the Day After Christmas)
“Fuck,” Bucky said from down the hall in the bedroom. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
“You still have time,” Steve called from where he was pulling Bucky’s hot laundry out of the dryer and into the hamper. It was dry. Mostly.
“I need the blue shirt!”
“I’ve got it.”
When Steve passed over the blue shirt and thumped the rest of the laundry basket by the bed, Bucky wasted no time in rolling it up with the rest of his luggage before going back to rummaging in the closet. Alpine, their little white gremlin, watched him without concern from her favorite place on the bed and yawned.
“Toiletry bag. Under the sink.”
“On it.” Luckily Bucky kept all of his travel-size things in the bag, so all Steve needed to do was check that none of the essentials were too low before he felt confident that he could go and put it in the suitcase with the rest.
“Laptop?”
“By the door in your favorite backpack.”
“Power cord?”
“In the bag. I checked twice. Passport is in the front pocket with your wallet. You can put it in your pocket after you get in Lydia’s car.” Steve checked his phone. “Who is going to be here in five minutes. Do your last checklist and then zip it up. We gotta get you downstairs.”
Bucky did his final checklist with his hands in his hair, running down the list of everything he needed to be in Miami for two days for work while looking half-crazed. It was Steve’s fault. He had offered to check into the flight for Bucky the night before while Bucky was cooking dinner for his parents and then had set an alarm on his phone for the next morning, but he had neglected to turn his sound back up. So they had overslept and had only woken up when Bucky’s coworker Lydia had texted him that she and her husband were headed over to pick him up in an hour to head to LaGuardia together.
The last hour had been hectic. Bucky had only let Steve apologize three times before he told him to shut up and put his clothes into the dryer. Now he let Steve stop him by the door to fix his hair and then let him carry Bucky’s suitcase down the stairs while Bucky dug through his backpack to do one last check for all of his essential work supplies.
Out on the biting wind as they waited on the sidewalk, Bucky pulled Steve in and wrapped his arms around him in a bear hug. “We did it, you punk. I’m going to be just fine. Tell me how much you’re going to miss me.”
“I won’t miss you at all, jerk.” Steve hugged him back hard and let himself breathe out. They would laugh about this later. Now that he wasn’t on the razor’s edge of adrenaline, Steve was remembering that he was going to spend the whole weekend without Bucky coming and going, Bucky heating their bed up like a furnace, Bucky smiling at him as he joined him in the shower, Bucky holding his hand on the train, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.
He nearly dropped to one knee right there on the sidewalk. It felt insane to let Bucky fly out of the city without hearing how much he meant to Steve. But Bucky was letting him go and waving over Steve's shoulder and the moment, as insufficient as it would have been, had passed.
“Two days, Rogers,” Bucky said, and kissed him. “Take good care of our monster. I’ll see you Monday night. You better set your alarm this time.”
“I’ll be there.”
One more kiss and then Steve was helping to push Bucky’s bag into the trunk of Lydia’s car, waving hello to her through the open door, gripping Bucky’s cold hand for just one more second before he closed the door behind him.
He waved to the car as they pulled out into traffic and then he trudged back into the apartment building, shivering. Two days. Just him and Alpine, lonely in the apartment. It was going to be a long weekend.
5. Tuesday (The Day Before New Year's Eve)
“So have you done it yet?” Sam asked. “Did he say yes?”
“You would know.”
“Because Bucky would have a fat ring on his finger?”
Steve sighed and rested his cheek against his fist, wishing he could care what the Rangers were doing in the second period. He was three craft beers into his evening and he had barely tasted them. Their favorite tavern was too loud, too bright, too full of happy people. “He’d have a ring. My mother would be shooting off bottle rockets. Nat would be giving me a shovel talk.”
“And instead you’re here watching hockey with me—and you have been great company, let me tell you—instead of all that.”
Another sigh, deeper than before. “Yep.”
“So you asked and he said no? Or you haven’t asked?”
“I’ve tried,” Steve retorted. “Since Christmas Eve I’ve been trying, and every time there is something. Something gets in the way. So here we are.”
Sam nodded sagely. “Here you are, bitching to me instead of going home and proposing to your man.”
“He kicked me out. Said he wanted some time to cuddle the cat and watch bad television.” It was only after they spent the whole day together, tumbling in and out of bed, snacking whenever they felt like it, trading kisses and lazy handjobs. Maybe it was the perfect time. Hell, maybe it was the only time that he was going to get. But to Steve it didn’t feel special enough. It wasn’t Christmas Eve, it wasn’t Christmas morning, it wasn’t a walk in a park glittering with frost. It wasn’t even an impromptu, impulsive proposal on the sidewalk before a business trip. It had just been the two of them in their apartment, along with their annoying new kitten, only half-dressed and never entirely sure of the time.
The whole day had passed and Steve had felt the whole time that if he got out the ring and went down on one knee, Bucky was going to laugh at him and tell him that April fools wasn’t for another few months.
The Rangers lost a face off and then promptly gave up a point to the Washington Capitals. Sam booed along with most of the bar and Steve took another drink.
Later, as they were walking out together, Sam wrapped him up in a side hug. “Hang in there, champ. The right time is going to come. You’ll know when it’s right.”
“And then it’s your turn?”
Sam grinned. “And then it’s my turn.”
Bucky hadn’t made it to the bedroom when Steve got back. Man and kitten lay slumped on the couch together, curled up in the warm glow of the Christmas tree lights they had yet to pack away and the sixteenth episode of the latest romcom Bucky swore he only enjoyed ironically.
It took a moment for Bucky’s eyes to focus on Steve’s face when he came into the living room. “Hey,” he murmured, seeming to come out of a stupor as he stretched his arms. Alpine complained on his lap and he gave him an absent scritch. “What time is it?”
“Just about eleven. Time for bed?”
After Bucky had fed the cat, they stood side by side to brush their teeth, Steve thought about it. The ring was right there in the bedroom. All he had to do was bring it in here, let Bucky spit out the rest of his toothpaste, and ask him to marry him. It wasn’t hard.
Not hard. But impossible anyway.
“Don’t forget we’re having everyone over at 10 to go up onto the roof for the party,” Bucky said, when his mouth was empty again. His forehead creased as Steve looked at him blankly. “The New Year’s Eve party?”
“Right.” He had forgotten that they had offered to host in the patio space up on the roof where the building managers always encouraged them to come and watch the fireworks. “Sounds great.”
They went to bed, and the ring stayed where it was, tucked away. Steve threw a leg over Bucky’s legs and blew out a big breath once they were settled.
“Everything all right?” Bucky murmured in the dark.
“Yeah. Just about perfect.”