Work Text:
It had been Bucky who had revealed his Judaism first. He had huffed asking to borrow Sam’s laptop, Sam had laughed at him a sweet sound that filled the air lightened the mood like nothing else in the world could. They played for a few minutes, arguing more playfully than seriously. It took a few minutes for Sam to get what Bucky wanted out of it.
“I want to look up a synagogue.” The words caught Sam off guard. Memories of his temple back home flooding back into his mind. It was fall. Of course Bucky was looking for a temple, it was fall. Sam had not even remembered what the traditional change of color meant to them. The high holy days were approaching with alarming speed and it had been the farthest thing from Sam’s mind. Why wouldn’t it be? The year before had been filled with the search for Bucky so he had skipped everything much to his mother’s disapproval.
The high holy days were always a difficult time for Sam, there are too many memories around it. Memories of spending it with Riley, of fasting together even when they were not technically supposed to do so. Yom Kippur was always his yortzite. Which was too much for the former pilot, he had simply avoided celebrating the holiday at all for the past few years much to his mother’s frustration. It was the holiest day of the Jewish year. Hell if he was honest with himself Sam would realize, with the exception of Passover and Chanukah he had managed to avoid celebrating any Jewish holidays whatsoever since Riley’s death.
“Can I look?” Bucky asked more awkwardly this time, snapping Sam out of his moment of remembrance. Sam laughed at the other which made him bristle up kind of a like cartoon characters his nieces had spent so much time watching.
“You know all the seats are probably booked already. It’s the middle of September.” The falcon watched Bucky deflate a little but there was something more relaxed in his posture and Sam understood it. There’s always a kinship that you felt when you met another Jewish person, especially when you were constantly surrounded by stressful situations. “But I guess we can look. I can’t skip out again this year.”
“We don’t have to go in, we just need to look.” Sam got that too, it looked like they would both almost prefer if they could not really get a spot in the synagogue. Just that they tried to keep a thousands year old tradition because that’s what Judaism is really about isn’t it? It was about trying your best. To be the best person, to live your best life, to try your best to take care of each other. Which is how they found themselves huddled maybe a little bit too close to each other, looking at the websites of every single temple in Amsterdam.
After an hour on the internet they had just managed to narrow it down to three choices. Sam’s picks for the most part. They debated the merits of visiting them in person both of them ending up laughing as they attempted to one up each other with increasingly outrageous standards about each temple needed to have before they dared to step foot in it. Bucky demanding that it had to have an Olympic Sized swimming pool like a Jewish community center, despite it not being a community center and Sam requiring that they had to be served at least five star food before they even considered going anywhere near the temple.
Maybe their fingers brushed over the mouse together once, maybe Sam squeezed Bucky’s hand gently, and maybe just maybe Bucky leaned his head over to rest it on Sam’s shoulder and maybe they stayed there completely still for a while just enjoying each other’s company. And maybe it’s finally then that they finally look over the list of potentials and chose one that suited them.
After the hand holding they make a conscious effort to start trying to spending as much time together as they possibly can. Wether it be preparing for the upcoming holidays or just trying to keep watch at the same hours, Sam and Bucky very often pressing increasingly more passionate smooches with every day that passed.
It was a week of those weeks later that they celebrated Rosha Shoana on a roof in the middle of Amsterdam with an apple in Sam’s hand and Bucky clutching to his side both of them trying their best not laugh at how clumsy the once natural Hebrew sounded on their incredibly unpracticed tongues. Their traditions had been so different. Sam’s memories of soft Ethiopian songs clashing with the harsh slow melodies of Ashkenazi traditions from decades ago. They had worked in the end forming something in between the two, any observer would note that it was a beautiful combination but maybe that was just them naturally.
When their incredibly festive meal is over and more than a few kisses have been shared for each prayer they’ve sang out the men they lay there on that roof in the cool October air. It’s the perfect temperature for them to lay together the blanket that had eaten their meal arm. They fit together well, Sam clutched a little bit tighter than he would normally be comfortable with in Bucky’s arms, his head on the super soldier’s chest.
It’s a full hour and a half before they finally pull apart urged only to do so by the rain drops now pelting them vigorously, telling them both that it’s time to get up and back into the small apartment that they have been call home with Steve for the past couple of weeks and as they followed each other to spend the night in Sam’s room for the first time, neither of them could think of a more perfect holiday.