Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started with a bicycle. 

“Don’t make it obvious,” the guy had said, gesturing to the hot pink mess of chrome and streamers in front of him. 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. Fucking hell in a handbasket, did he ever hate Christmas. 

“It’s a bike!” His inner boiling pot finally overflowed and Steve waved his arms around wildly at the item in question, currently taking up valuable floor space in the congested mall. There were only a few more sleeps until the Big Day and the shopping centre was completely packed. Steve could already feel his head sweating under his too-big elf hat. Ho ho no, he was so done with this bullshit and it was only 11 a.m. “It won’t even fit on the wrapping table!” 

The guy looked completely nonplussed. “This is a wrapping station,” he said blandly. "You wrap the thing and I pay you. It’s a simple concept." 

"First of all, condescension will get you nowhere, big guy. Second, we have size limits for things. I can't wrap a bike! It's not even in a box!"

"It was a floor model," the guy shot back, his tone starting to take on a bit of heat. "It didn't come with a box." 

"Not my problem," Steve declared with a sniff. 

The guy narrowed his eyes a bit. "You really wanna ruin Christmas for my niece that badly, huh?" 

And oh, wasn't that a reindeer kick to the nuts with a Brooklyn-drawl bow on top. 

"Not my problem," Steve repeated, but it was weak this time and the asshole smirked a little, well aware of his impending victory. Awkward silence reigned as Steve tried to figure out a way to concede defeat without his self-respect crumbling like the walls of a first-grader’s gingerbread house. "I can't get it done right away," he finally caved, because yeah, this thing was gonna take him an hour to not only wrap but also somehow disguise, and his station was already piled up with more reasonably sized gifts to finish. "Come back at closing tonight and pick it up."

The guy nodded once and turned on his heel, leaving Steve to stand in the middle of the floor with the bike, his ridiculous elf hat, and an ever growing sense of renewed rage as the man began to walk away. 

"Hey, fuckface!" Steve called out after him. "What name do I put on the order?" 

The man stopped short, turning and looking at Steve from under a cocked brow. "Do you talk to all of your customers this way?" 

"Yes," Steve nodded. It was the truth.

The man grinned, his straight white teeth flashing and the creases framing his eyes deepening with the motion as he continued to gaze unflinchingly at Steve. 

"You can call me Bucky." 

“It’s a unicorn,” Bucky stated later that evening in disbelief, feeling his eyebrows lift in surprise. It was almost ten at night and the shopping centre was finally beginning to clear out for the day, the stores around them turning off their signs and pulling their gates closed with a series of shuddering clangs. 

“You said that already.” The angry little elf huffed out a breath of air in what Bucky assumed was both a mix of exasperation and a genuine attempt to blow the little puffball on the end of his too-big hat out of his face. It didn’t really work for the latter, unfortunately. Bucky could also see some blonde hair sticking out from the edges of the hat and absently wondered what the elf’s hair looked like underneath it. His contemplations were interrupted by a growing glare from the elf though, and he snapped his attention back to the gift before the guy could give him any more shit today.  

“It’s fucking amazing,” Bucky admitted, because truly, it was. The guy had gone all out, somehow using a pearly white wrapping paper and what must have been a literal ton of ribbon to make the mythical rainbow-maned masterpiece. Ellie was gonna flip her shit when she saw it, and Bucky was definitely earning World’s Best Uncle bragging rights for the upcoming year. 

The compliment must have softened the guy a little bit because his face wasn’t quite as confrontational when Bucky turned back to him. In fact, was that a blush? 

“Thanks,” the elf grumbled, the tips of his ears turning the slightest shade of pink. 

“Do you have like, art training or somethin’?” Bucky questioned, genuinely curious now. How did he even get the horn to stand up like that?  

“If you’re referring to a degree, then yes,” the little asshole spoke with a spirited mixture of condescension and pride. “I’m in art school.” 

“Damn,” Bucky grinned at him, deciding to momentarily ignore the air of superiority in the guy’s tone. Bucky knew he was a fucking Brooklyn born dummy, but had at least put himself through trade school for welding. That was nothing compared to getting an actual degree though. “Only in the summer though, right? Santa needs all hands on deck in the cold months, I bet.”

The elf just slow-blinked at him, obviously unimpressed with the joke. “Sure.”

Bucky sighed, seeing the end of this particular stretch of road. “Alright then, so what’s the damage?” He asked, pulling his wallet out of the back pocket. He glanced up in time to notice the elf had been a second too slow in pulling his own gaze away from the front of Bucky’s jeans, his package made more prominent with his movements, and Bucky smirked a little as the guy’s blush returned tenfold. Maybe this wasn’t over after all. 

The elf dashed over to the cash register, effectively hiding his face for a few moments as his back was turned before scanning a clipboard and punching in a few buttons on the register. “Alright Bucky, that’ll be $75.99,” he stated with a smirk, his attitude back with a vengeance and Bucky’s name like knives on his tongue. 

“The fuck?” Bucky felt his brow furrow and his mouth drop open in outrage. “That’s highway robbery! That’s more than the actual bike cost!” 

The man shrugged, but the small smirk playing at the edges of his mouth betrayed his indifference. The little prick was enjoying this. 

“It took a lot of time and material,” he justified. 

“Motherfucker,” Bucky swore under his breath as he slapped his credit card down on the counter, the price effectively killing any of his remaining desire to flirt. Fuck it all, he’d save his crying for January when the bill came in. “You better be getting all A’s at your fancy art school if I’m payin’ your tuition,” Bucky groused as he roughly scrawled his signature across the paper receipt, pointing the pen at the man when he was done in an effort to make his point. “I’m talkin’ Picasso levels of shit that you need to be putting out.”

“I’m puttin’ out just fine, thank you,” the elf sassed back with his own bite of Brooklyn, taking a second too long to catch on to his double entendre, his cheeks pinking up again when he did. 

Bucky grinned widely as the ball was unintentionally thrust back into his court. 

“Who should I make the tag out to?” The elf asked suddenly, powering through his embarrassment by way of his sense of duty. 

Bucky leaned on the counter, dropping his gaze to the man’s mouth and letting his eyes hood over a bit. His growing desire to throw this punk off his game and make him flustered was reaching never before seen levels. “Tell me your name first,” he bargained. 

The man exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment, obviously searching for patience from some higher power or something. He gripped the pen Bucky had handed back to him tightly, his delicate knuckles appearing slightly white with the strain. 

“Steve,” he ground out finally, blue eyes opening back up but remaining slightly narrowed in frustration. Saint Monica must have been occupied elsewhere today, Bucky mused.  

Bucky let the name sit with him for a long moment, allowing the man’s frustration to mount just a little more. Bucky never really treated himself, even at Christmas, so this was like a small gift to himself; the joy of stirring the anger pot. “Make the card out to Ellie, Steve.” 

Steve did so with a flourish despite his sour attitude, his penmanship just as impressive as his wrapping skills. Bucky was unsurprised by this; those hands looked like they were more than capable of a number of awe-inspiring things.

“Thank you,” Bucky spoke as he watched Steve attach the tag to the gift as artfully as ever, stringing it onto another ribbon and placing it over the unicorn’s head like a bridle, complete with a bow. It really was something to look at. Bucky cleared his throat, suddenly realizing just how much this guy had done for him today, despite the steep cost. “Really, thank you,” he repeated, his voice softening. “You’ll make her Christmas with this. She’s going to love it. This year was shit for her, and you’re gonna end it on a high note, so thanks.” 

Steve popped a blonde eyebrow, a playful fire lit behind his eyes. “What, did she finally realize she got stuck with an asshole for an uncle?”

The edge of Bucky’s mouth quirked up but he couldn’t make the smile meet his eyes, despite Steve likely not meaning anything by the comment. 

“Nah,” Bucky scraped his work-booted foot across the mall of the floor, mood suddenly sobering. “Just an asshole for a dad. My sister’s husband, or ex-husband I guess now, fucked off this year, left ‘em high and dry, so it’s their first Christmas without him. I got a nephew too, Conner, but he’s too small to really get it yet. Ellie knows though, ‘specially since they had to move in last month. New York rent ain’t easy for a single mom, you know?” 

Steve’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and Bucky regretted even bringing it up as he watched the man try to come up with a decent response. This wasn’t the kind of flustered look he liked seeing on Steve, so he did his best to change the topic. He didn’t know what had gotten into him anyway. It wasn’t like Steve actually gave a shit. 

“Forget it,” Bucky said, pasting on a fresh smile and grabbing the unicorn around the belly, conscious of not catching a training wheel in the rib. “You did real good, Steve, thanks again.” And with that Bucky turned and headed for the exit, only catching the faintest whisper of the “Merry Christmas,” Steve belatedly threw out before the mall doors shut behind him, the cold of the Brooklyn December enveloping him in its chill. 

A HUGE and happy thank you to Mitsususu for drawing the rainbow unicorn bicycle!

Chapter Text

“No, no, no! Get outta my line with that thing!” 

Steve was definitely pointing directly at him, but Bucky feigned confusion and checked over his shoulder with innocently wide eyes, only to miraculously find no one behind him as he approached the wrapping desk. He was happy to see that despite Steve ending yesterday's interaction with the whisper of a holiday wish, the elf was still reliably full of piss and vinegar today. 

Bucky shifted the cumbersome sled to rest underneath his non-dominant arm and then pointed at himself. “You mean me?”

Steve’s eye roll was one for the ages despite him being in the middle of wrapping some old woman’s gift. The elderly customer didn’t seem to notice, focused as she was on Steve’s packaging of a set of slippers. Fortunately for her Steve hadn’t even slowed in his process, sharp corners of paper and clean lines of tape being laid down without hesitation. 

“You’re a multitasker,” Bucky grinned, happy to wait his turn for Steve despite the other employee at the station being obviously free of customers. “You can run your mouth and wrap a gift simultaneously. Did you make the naughty or nice list with a skill set like that?” 

‘Fuck you,’ Steve mouthed at him over the top of the old woman’s snow-white head. He directed his attention back to her and smiled, bright and charming. “All set, ma’am. I hope your husband enjoys it.” 

Bucky waited until she had wandered off with the gift before approaching the counter fully and leaning the sled against the edge. He propped an arm on top and settled in to antagonize. 

“Jessica, can you help this customer please?” Steve asked, overly sweet to the goth looking teen standing disengaged and slightly off from them, snapping a piece of chewing gum between her teeth. The cheery elf hat sitting on her head was unnerving in combination with her vampiric style of dress and makeup. 

“Can’t.” Her dead monotone mixed with the sound of the gum made Steve’s eye twitch, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile wider at the micro reaction. “I’m on my break,” she announced listlessly, grabbing her coffin-shaped purse and somehow exiting the booth without even looking up from her cell phone. 

Steve was white-knuckling the counter and Bucky was gleeful. 

"Is there a bell I can ring to get some service around here?" Bucky leaned in to ask, just to be a dick. 

Steve closed his eyes and counted to ten, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. 

“Is lip reading a prerequisite to getting a gift wrapped, or is there just a course at art school on how to ignore a blue collar worker?” Bucky nodded down at himself, conscious of his dirty coveralls and thick boots. He had just gotten off work and had wanted to hit the mall before going home to clean up. Considering the state of some of the job sites he worked at, a little dirt had never bothered him much, until now. 

The lip moving had transformed into teeth grinding, but at least Steve had opened his eyes back up. The elf adjusted his hat and pasted on the fakest, brightest smile Bucky had ever seen.

“Sorry sir, how can I help you?” Steve asked, sarcasm in excess. 

“Sir? Is that how it’s gonna be between us?” Bucky smirked as Steve immediately caught his mistake and turned five different shades of red from the slip. 

“I mean… agh.” Steve huffed out a frustrated noise, attention fixing on the gift. “A sled today?” A blonde eyebrow lifted as the subject was abruptly changed. 

Bucky allowed it, deciding to cut the man a break. “Yeah,” he grinned and gave the wooden contraption a hearty pat. “I realized Ellie’s gonna love the bike, but she’s also gonna be upset that she can’t use it until the spring. Now she’ll have the best of both worlds.” 

“Uncle of the Year, ” Steve announced sarcastically, but Bucky could sense a hint of approval from the smaller man despite the sass. His shift into a more natural tone said as much, even if Steve would likely never admit it himself. “Do you need it disguised again, or no?” 

“I need it to not cost me a C-note, so you tell me how far that'll get me,” Bucky shrugged. “To be honest I’m pretty bad at wrapping shit in general, so if you could maybe put your degree on the shelf for a minute and just do a twenty dollar job, I’d appreciate it.” 

“You’re obsessed,” Steve shook his head as he accepted the large sled over the counter, surprisingly calm considering his initial objection to the object. 

Bucky felt his face flame at being called out but thankfully Steve was already looking at the wrapping supplies lined up behind him, obviously trying to figure out the best plan of attack. 

“...With art school,” Steve finished as he turned back around, and Bucky felt his shoulders relax slightly. “Why does it make you think I’m a snob or something?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Come on Steve, even you can’t be that naive. A guy like you, all attractive and educated, there’s no way you’re not lookin’ down your nose at me, at least a little.” For the first time as an adult, Bucky felt a modicum of shame for his lot in life. He did ok for himself, but he’d never be sipping wine in some fancy gallery somewhere. He really should have gone home to change first though, fuck. 

Steve looked absolutely bewildered for a moment as he parsed through Bucky’s response, obviously at a loss for words. 

“Wait, you think I’m- No. Bucky,” Steve paused, running a hand through his hair but forgetting he had the hat on, the action sending the red and green cone tumbling towards the floor. His hair was very blonde underneath, the colour of sun-kissed wheat even under the artificial lights of the mall, and Bucky fixated on the sight while it was available, Steve quickly bending over to retrieve the hat to shove it back on his head carelessly. A few haphazard strands of blonde poked out the front from the mistreatment, and Bucky had to press his hands against the counter to keep from reaching over and tucking them behind a pale ear. 

“I’m not... I’m not better than you.” Steve glanced down at the ground for a moment before meeting Bucky’s eyes, earnest in his response, “and I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. My mom was a nurse, you know? She would come home covered in far worse than dirt and grease at the end of the day, and it didn’t bother me. She was a provider, just like you are. And in case you haven’t noticed,” Steve smiled now, small but true as he gestured around them. “I work at the fuckin’ mall. This isn’t exactly the Met. So don’t worry, I’m not judging you.” 

Bucky nodded and held Steve’s gaze as he absorbed his words, noting the man’s use of the past tense as the silence between them settled in comfortably, the white noise and distant holiday soundtrack of the busy shopping centre creating a lulling drone around them. 

“I’m back.” Jessica’s colourless voice announced her return to the booth, her severely charcoaled eyes still glued to her phone, and Bucky was proud to realize he hadn’t jumped at the sudden interruption. Steve was not quite as unaffected. 

“Jesus Christ,” Steve jerked and swore under his breath before settling a hand against his chest, heart likely beating a mile a minute with the scare. “It’s like working with the ghost of Hot Topic, I swear,” he whispered across the counter with a small shake of his head, Bucky having to lean in to catch his words. 

Bucky couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at his completely serious tone, and Steve grinned as he pulled back, Jessica thankfully not extending her awareness to anything outside of her screen. 

“So, a sled,” Steve nodded down at the gift on his desk with a small yet content smile. “I can do that.”

Fifteen minutes and twenty dollars later, Bucky exited the mall with a perfectly wrapped sled and a warm feeling in his chest. 

Chapter Text

"So that explains the glow you've had lately," Steve greeted with a smirk from behind the counter, his blue eyes flashing with mischief. "I can't believe you didn't even invite me to your shower!" 

"So rude of me," Bucky replied with an eye roll as he pushed the stroller to a stop in front of the wrapping booth. A small smile twitched across Steve’s lips and he leaned on the counter a bit to look the thing over. 

“For your sister, right?” He asked softly, dropping the joke. 

"Yeah,” Bucky sighed. “Becca's been lugging Conner around without one, and when it's two kids against one, she needs all the help she can get. So," he gestured needlessly to the item, "a stroller."

Steve was squinting at him funny and Bucky wasn't sure why, because there was no biting wit or smart-ass remark to accompany it. Just a look of quiet consideration, if Bucky had to put a label on it, and even then he didn't know what it was prompted by. It had to be either the stroller or his appearance, because he had, this time, gone home from work to shower and change first before making the trek to the overcrowded mall. Without thinking too much on the why of it all, he had wanted to switch out his greasy coveralls for something better and was instead wearing his favourite wool jacket and a fitted pair of jeans. His hair was freshly washed too and he had to admit, not walking around with the grit of a hard day's labour on his scalp was a nice change. 

Steve was still analyzing him but eventually looked away with a blush once Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly. 

"Right, so, a stroller." Steve came out from behind the counter to inspect the contraption more closely, and their difference in height and stature was suddenly made very apparent as Steve stepped in close to avoid the flow of holiday shoppers outside of the booth's cordoned off area. He was almost a head shorter than Bucky but had a wiriness to him that suggested he could still throw a punch or two should the need arise. Hopefully it would never come up, but Bucky had no doubt that Steve's mouth got him into trouble more often than Bucky would personally prefer. 

"Are you incapable of buying presents that come in conventional boxes?" Steve asked, poking at the cushioned push bar of the thing. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. "It was in a box but I had the store assemble it. You think I can hide the assembly of an entire stroller in my small ass apartment? The thing's gotta go in fully ready and wrapped or else Becca will immediately see what it is." 

"Just hide it in your bedroom or something!" Steve was getting a little heated as he frowned down at the large wheels on the bottom of the thing, obviously not enthused about the idea of having to somehow wrap them. 

"I can't," Bucky ground out, temper flaring. "I only have a one-bedroom place and I gave Becca and the kids my room." 

“You what?" Steve's head shot up, that unreadable expression from earlier back tenfold. "Where are you sleeping?" 

Bucky shrugged, not understanding why this was significant in the least. "On the couch." 

"Motherfucker," Steve swore under his breath and Bucky would've taken offense, but it didn't actually seem like it was directed at him. Was Steve mad… on his behalf? 

"You don't need to be mad at Becca," he was quick to explain, "I offered, obviously. She's not takin' over my apartment or anything without my permission. She's a good person and just needs a hand right now. It's the least I can do until we can figure something else out for her and the kids." 

"...Of course he... fucking perfect..." Steve was shaking his head and quietly muttering to himself so Bucky moved in to see what the issue was as the elf messed around with the plastic bits at the back of the stroller. 

"This thing has gotta at least fold down somehow," Steve eventually said in a more normal tone of voice as Bucky leaned in over his shoulder to inspect what he was doing. Steve smelt like paper and coffee and cinnamon spice, and Bucky tried to keep his expression from giving him away completely as he subtly inhaled the scent. 

"Where's the instruction book?" Steve asked and Bucky frowned, because they hadn't given it back to him at the store when he'd picked the thing up. 

Steve did not take the news well. 

"Jesus Christ." He ripped his elf hat off his head to run a frustrated hand through his blonde hair, and Bucky couldn't look away, couldn't move, because Steve was angry and flushed and cursing and Bucky was so damn gone on this guy, fucking hell. 

He swallowed hard and got his wits about him, trying to draw his attention back to the stroller and away from Steve. "I think if you just push it here…" 

"I tried that," Steve remarked sourly, moving in even closer so his back was almost pressed completely to Bucky's front as they struggled for dominance over the mechanism. "It doesn't work." 

Bucky ground his teeth together. "You obviously didn't do it right." He leaned in further and batted Steve's hand away to press the little plastic piece down hard. Nothing happened. 

"I told you!" Steve crowed, spinning in his arms and pointing an accusatory finger up at Bucky. "You're just not fucking paying attention to me!" 

"Of course I'm payin' attention to you, that's all I'm fucking doing!" Bucky shot back without thinking. Steve's constantly running mouth finally snapped shut, his blue eyes taking in Bucky's frustrated expression from only a few inches away, close enough to breathe each other's air. 

A snicking sound and a movement beside them had them both turning their heads suddenly, Jessica leaning on the now-folded up stroller as she silently observed them. "I have four younger siblings," she explained in her patented monotone, her black-painted lips the only part of her to move as she stared at them unflinchingly. "I'm very good with children." 

Steve was the first to step back as whatever tension remaining between them dissipated, looking down at the floor for a moment before raising his head, a light dusting of pink still lingering on the tips of his ears. "Thank you," he addressed Jessica sincerely and Bucky nodded, chastised, and added his own thanks. He could have sworn he saw the shadow of a smile flit across her face, but then Jessica was turning and trudging back behind the counter, dragging the train of her long gothic skirt behind her. 

“Come back in a couple of hours,” Steve turned to Bucky and sighed, resigned. “It won’t be up to unicorn standards, but I’ll make sure you can get it in the house without Becca knowing what it is.” 

Bucky dropped a hand onto Steve’s thin shoulder and squeezed, letting the warmth of the blonde’s body seep into his skin for just a moment longer than necessary. “You’re a lifesaver, Steve. Thank you.” 

Steve bobbed his head, his eyes fixed on Bucky’s hand as he regretfully pulled away and dropped it to his side. 

“Yeah, Bucky,” Steve cleared his throat. “It’s no big deal. I’ve got you.” 

Chapter Text

“Holy. Shit.” Bucky practically threw himself onto the counter in front of Steve, making the smaller man jump in surprise as he whipped around to face him. 

“These people,” Bucky spat the word like a curse, “are animals! It’s a fucking checkout line at a toy store, not the gates to Heaven, Lord Almighty.” He set his newly acquired stuffed octopus down, huffing out a sigh and running a hand through his disheveled hair. It fell back across his forehead immediately, so Bucky pulled the hair tie off his wrist to gather it into a messy bun, the heat of the crowd plus his winter coat making him feel more than a little overheated. "Did you get the stroller wrapped ok?" He asked, pulling the last few escaping strands into place. 

"...Uh," Steve's eyes snapped from his hair to his hands to his face, wide blue eyes blinking rapidly a few times. “What?”

“The stroller,” Bucky repeated, letting his arms drop and leaning over the counter a bit, hoping to see the finished product. 

“Oh yeah, the stroller.” Steve pulled his elf hat off and ran a hand through the short scruff of hair at the back of his neck. His cheeks were a little pink, and Bucky wondered if the heat of the mall was possibly getting to him too. 

“You feelin’ ok?” Bucky narrowed his eyes at him critically, and the pink increased tenfold.

“Just a little warm,” Steve mumbled, and Bucky felt his brows come together in concern with the confirmation. 

“Steve is actually due for his break now,” Jessica announced from across the booth without turning her head. She was putting what looked to be the finishing touches on a brightly wrapped gift, her hands wielding a sharp pair of scissors as she curled a red ribbon flawlessly. “He can help you carry your stuff to your car.” 

Steve began to object and Bucky shot a quizzical look towards the girl’s back, wondering where this was coming from. She must have felt his eyes on her, as she turned around suddenly and met Bucky’s questioning gaze. “To your car,” she repeated bluntly, “ where it’s parked outside. In the fresh air.”

“Oh, no, Bucky really doesn’t want my help, I mean…” Steve was stammering, but Bucky was already nodding, shooting Jessica a quick wink. Message received.

The smirk she sent back his way would have made Morticia proud. 

“I actually do need help,” Bucky turned towards Steve and watched him mutter about a mutiny, and how he didn’t deserve this, or something equally dramatic.

Steve eventually slumped in defeat, eyeballing the cute octopus toy Bucky had dropped on the counter earlier. “You want this wrapped up for Conner?” He huffed out a breath at Bucky’s nod, likely already beginning to contemplate how to wrap the eight-legged logistical nightmare. “Let me get this figured out, and then I’ll help you. Don’t even know why you’d need my help though,” he started muttering again as he turned with the toy to begin collecting wrapping supplies, Bucky straining to hear what was likely meant to go unannounced, “when you’ve got arms like fucking tree trunks.” 

Jessica slid smoothly into his place as Bucky stood there like a dummy, adjusting her elf hat slightly and giving Bucky what could only be described as a look of camaraderie. 

“Steve’s just stubborn,” she said quietly, chancing a quick look towards the man at the back counter. His head was down, entirely focused on his work, and she turned back to Bucky, keeping her voice low. “But you’re getting there. He likes you.” 

“What? No he doesn’t.” Bucky frowned. The idea alone was laughable. “He fucking hates me.” 

“More like he wants to fuck you, actually. Steve’s into you.” 

Despite his long hair now being off his head, Bucky could feel himself begin to sweat again. “This is an incredibly inappropriate conversation to be having with a customer,” he stated, because he was really at a loss for words otherwise. 

Jessica rolled her eyes dramatically and Bucky wondered if Steve’s habits were beginning to rub off on her. “As if we’re not constantly breaking the rules of workplace propriety left and right,” she replied, jerking her head back to indicate the mouthy holiday elf currently working behind her. “I’m being serious about him. Trust me, he’s attracted to you. And I should know, I’m basically a relationship expert.” 

“Oh yeah?” Bucky leaned in, unable to pull away from this conversational car wreck. He was still attempting to wrap his head around her opinion of Steve’s emotional state, but he had to see where this was going. “How so?”

“I’ve been in a committed relationship for three years,” she answered, turning slightly to allow Steve back into the fold as he finished up and approached them at the front. 

“Really?” Steve questioned, having caught the tail end of their conversation. “With who?”

“The ghost who haunts the Hot Topic on level three,” she replied seriously. “It’s going really well.”

“You…” Steve sputtered and blinked a few times. “I can honestly never tell when you’re fucking with me anymore.”

“That’s a shame,” Jessica answered blandly.

“Like that!” Steve exclaimed, waving an arm around in exasperation. “Is that sarcas-”

Bucky cleared his throat, attempting to interrupt what was very likely a regular argument between the pair. “You still up for giving me a hand?” He asked the blonde. 

Steve sighed but nodded, turning and grabbing the wrapped stoller to bring it around the counter to Bucky before taking the octopus toy for himself. He had disguised it as a helicopter, and Bucky had to admit, it was cute as fuck. “You’re in charge,” Steve pointed what was likely supposed to be a threatening finger at Jessica. “Don’t set anything on fire.” 

Jessica was already moving back to her ribbons. “That was one time, Steve, and it worked. That doll needed to be exorcised and you know it.” 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, collecting himself momentarily before grabbing Bucky’s sleeve and tugging him towards the exit. “I need out of here.”

Bucky hastily grabbed the wrapped stroller before he was forcefully pulled away from the booth, Steve surprisingly strong for his size, and shouted a quick thank you to Jessica before they disappeared around a corner of the mall. 

“Where did you park?” Steve asked grumpily, frowning towards the doors leading to the parking lot. 

“We’ll get there,” Bucky grinned, pulling back on his sleeve to force Steve to come to a halt. “I need to make a stop first.”

Steve let out a long breath and let his head fall back to gaze up towards the ceiling. Bucky presumed he was looking for a bolt of lightning to come down and end his supposed suffering, but he could have just been admiring the snowflake decorations too. Who could really say?

“I hate Christmas,” Steve announced to no one in particular, confirming the snowflakes could indeed fuck all the way off.

“C’mon Steve,” Bucky smiled cheerfully and threw his free arm around the elf’s shoulders, directing him towards the food court. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”

Bucky was infuriating. 

“What looks good to you?” He asked before glancing up at the handwritten chalkboard sign of a seasonal drink pop-up stall.

“Is going home an option?” Steve sighed, watching Bucky contemplate. He was literally tapping a finger to his scruffy chin in thought, his thick arms slightly crossed, and it was just... Uff. So annoying. 

“If you’d help me choose, I could leave faster,” Bucky suggested with a smirk, and goddamn it, Steve hated this guy and his stupid, pink lips, all twisted to the side in amusement. 

Steve frowned at him but had to admit he had a point. “The cinnamon hot chocolate is good, I guess.” 

Bucky grinned, bright and luminous, and stepped forward to order two, popping his remaining change in the tip jar for the smiling barista. 

He collected the drinks and passed one over to Steve once he returned, Steve grumbling out a thanks despite feeling a warmth pool in his belly and cheeks at the gesture, unrelated to the heat of the beverage itself. The worst part about this particular asshole was the fact that he was just so goddamned nice to everyone . 

“I’m out this way.” Bucky finally nodded towards the double doors and Steve readjusted the items in his hands before following him outside. The cool air hitting his face was a welcome relief as the doors automatically opened for them, and Steve let the refreshing feeling wash over him as he followed Bucky through the maze of cars to a slightly older but well-maintained pickup truck. 

Bucky set his drink on the truck’s roof before carefully lifting the stroller into the truck bed, his biceps bunching up with the motion, not that Steve was looking or anything. He took the squishy octopus toy a moment later when Steve offered it up, setting it on the passenger side before leaning over to stick his keys in the ignition, letting the truck warm up a bit in the cold weather. 

The chill that had felt welcoming only a few minutes ago was now biting into Steve’s hands and upper body, and he curled himself slightly around his cup as if it would offer up any additional heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky was swearing and then whipping off his own coat, settling it around Steve’s shoulders a moment later. “You didn’t bring your jacket.” 

Instead of offering up a sarcastic remark about stating the obvious, Steve just shook his head, trying not to let the masculine scent of Bucky’s coat overwhelm him. It was overly large on him which worked well at the moment, keeping his hands and arms tucked away from the cold while still letting him sip his drink easily. “Thanks,” he said simply instead, and Bucky looked surprised for a moment before that megawatt smile was back tenfold, Steve’s knees feeling wobbly at the sight. 

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, actually,” Bucky drawled, and Steve raised an eyebrow at him in an unspoken request to go on. “I wouldn’t have gotten all this stuff wrapped up properly without your help,” Bucky continued, “so thanks again. It’s a relief to be done finally.” 

Steve felt his neck jerk as his head snapped up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “You’re done your Christmas shopping?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky was looking at him questioningly, the corners of his eyes slightly creased. “I already have stocking stuffers and shit at home, I just needed a hand with the bigger things.” 

“Oh,” Steve mumbled, not sure why this information was suddenly putting such a damper on his mood. It would be a relief to not see Bucky in his lineup with another impossible item to wrap tomorrow, to not have to deal with that Brooklyn-born mouth that deserved to be washed out with soap. Besides, tomorrow was Christmas Eve, how long could he have expected this to go on for? 

“So I guess,” Bucky hesitated, eyes searching Steve’s face. “I guess I’ll see you around then.” 

“Yeah,” Steve couldn’t seem to lift his eyes from the ground, the intensity of the unspoken potential in that icy blue stare across from him suddenly too difficult to acknowledge. “It was nice meeting you, Bucky.” Steve shrugged out of the coat, passing it back over quickly and ignoring the furrowed brow of its lender as he quickly turned and headed back toward the entrance, arms wrapped around him to ward off the chill. 

He didn’t look behind him as he retreated, but he somehow knew that Bucky didn’t turn away until he had disappeared back behind the safety of the mall doors. 

Jessica gave the drink in his hand an appreciative look as Steve reentered their booth, slumping on to the counter in defeat as he contemplated all the ways that should have gone, scenarios where he wasn’t such a chicken shit in the face of a possible romance and had actually asked Bucky out instead. Steve was all bark and no bite when it had mattered most, and he fucking hated himself for it. 

“I hope that drink came with a phone number,” Jessica commented absently, taping down the wrapped edge of an almost completed gift. 

“I blew it,” Steve admitted, his voice muffled from where he had his stupid mouth pressed up against his stupid arm. 

Jessica shook her head sadly and addressed the empty air beside her. “I know, Jeremy. They’re idiots.” 

Mitsususu drew a little octopus in a helicopter! Thank you for this cute addition! :D 

Chapter Text

Bucky was in his lineup. 

Bucky fucking Barnes was back in his lineup, three customers away, oh God.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, testing out the possibility of a mirage, but no, there he was. 

“Holy shit, I’ve gotta go to church on Sunday now,” Steve quietly whined out loud before noticing Jessica beside him, her shoulders shaking at his unintended admission. He had never seen her laugh before, and it was slightly frightening. 

“Oh my God, did you pray for him to come back last night?”

“No!” Steve lied. He totally had.  

Steve felt his cheeks begin to burn and he ducked his head a bit, trying to focus his attention back on the gift in front of him. His fingers felt a little clumsy and his heartbeat was a bit too fast as he tried to think of a good opening line for when Bucky approached, but his throat got all tight and nothing was coming to mind. Steve was no stranger to flinging snappy insults on a whim, but having to be charming and funny and smooth was just so not in his wheelhouse, particularly when the guy he was hoping to woo (oh God, woo, he was hopeless) was Bucky Barnes. Bucky was kind and funny and fucking burning hot, and while Steve was confident in a lot of things (his art, his morals, his dislike of elf hats) he had never been confident in… romancing someone. There was no question as to why he had essentially run away last night. 

He was so damn bad at this. 

And nervous. Don’t forget nervous. 

He somehow managed to work through his remaining customers with a thought-process more frozen than an icicle, still at a loss for words as Bucky stepped up to the counter. He was well dressed again today, not that Steve had ever disliked his work coveralls, but seeing him all put together and sexy as hell was almost cosmically unfair considering Steve was stuck wearing his fucking elf hat again. He was smiling now too, smiling at Steve, and whatever cosmically unfair actually equaled out to, just multiply that by infinity, because that smile was just... Not allowed. Too good for this universe, and then some. Bucky worked hard and looked after his family and slept on his own fucking couch just to give his displaced sister and her kids a bed, and then he had to nerve to smile at Steve like that, and Steve’s dumb fucking coconut brain couldn’t even form a sentence for him. 

The issue was, Steve decided, Bucky Barnes was not actually an asshole at all. He was actually too sweet, and life was very cruel indeed for crafting this horrible plot twist. Steve could deal with a grumpy, mouthy New Yorker any day of the week without hesitation. Hell, he himself was a grumpy, mouthy New Yorker. The problem was that funny, attractive saints didn’t take an interest in him like this every day. It had actually been many, many days in between events such as this. Like since… the beginning of days. Never.   

Steve was, to put it mildly, inexperienced at love.

“Hey,” Bucky greeted, rapping his knuckles on the counter to draw Steve back to the present. He had evidently been internally drifting in the sea of longing but needed to return immediately if he had any chance of salvaging their possible courtship. Jesus, just kill him now. 

“Hi,” Steve untied his tongue to respond, trying to think fast. “More bullshit to wrap today? I thought you were done.” Steve internally cringed at himself. Old habits die hard, he supposed. Luckily, Bucky laughed. 

“Not at the moment, no, but I actually do need your help with something. Turns out I have one more person on my list, and I was hoping you could make a recommendation.”

Steve felt a small surge of relief flow through him, because yes, he could help with this in fact. He literally wrapped hundreds of gifts a day so he was pretty well versed in what the mall had to offer for any particular situation. 

“Absolutely,” Steve perked up a bit, knowing he could impress Bucky with his mental catalogue of wish list items. “Who are you shopping for?” 

Bucky grinned, his eyes going soft and crinkly at the edges with the motion. “Someone special. Someone I’m hoping to pursue. You know… romantically. ” 

“Romantically.” Forget Steve’s frozen thought-process, his whole body could now be classified as a meat popsicle. Of course Bucky had some sort of potential boyfriend or girlfriend waiting in the wings. There was probably a lineup around the block to date him. Of fucking course he could do better than Steve. 

“Romantically,” Bucky confirmed, his eyes not leaving Steve’s. 

Steve swallowed, trying to stay professional as his heart did a funny internal screeching thing at him. 

“Um, there’s a good artisan chocolate shop on level two-”

“I’m thinking it should be a little more special than that,” Bucky cut in, giving him a bit of a look that Steve was unable to decipher. “Like, if you could have anything at all for Christmas, what would you want?”

Steve took a breath and leaned on the counter to think for a moment, thankful no one else had gotten in line behind Bucky yet. It had been a long time since someone had asked him that question.

“I guess… I guess I would just want to spend Christmas with someone I care about, someone who cares about me,” He finally admitted, his poor little heart deciding to bleed all over the place, because why not. Bucky Barnes was apparently off the table before he had ever even really gotten on it. Steve was allowed to be a little sad. “I haven’t really loved Christmas much since my mom died a few years ago; she was the one that always made it seem special, you know? So I guess to have that feeling back again, of family. That would be nice.”

The look on Bucky’s face was indecipherable, and Steve realized he had fucked up, his answer a little too personal for the question. “Or like, a cheese plate, I guess,” he tacked on, because the first item on his particular wish list was not exactly tangible. “I like a good Swiss.” He shrugged, trying to display an indifference he did not feel. 

“So,” Bucky was slow forming the word, “for Christmas you would want either your Mom back or a cheese plate? Those are the options?”

Steve nodded, not feeling the need to add his voice to such a ridiculous list.  

"I know a good Medium!" Jessica called out from the back of the booth, elbow deep in a bag stuffed with tissue paper. 

Steve huffed out a shaky laugh, thankful to her for breaking the heavy mood but not quite able to shake the sudden melancholy of it all. There was still a line between Bucky’s brows as well, and Steve was rather embarrassed to admit that he had no particular plan to get himself out of the inevitable ‘pity’ hole he had just dug for himself. The last thing he wanted was for Bucky to feel bad for him. 

Bucky was silent for a long moment, unbothered by the line of customers that was now beginning to form behind him. 

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, that’s all you needed then?”

Bucky met his eyes. “How late are you open?” 

Steve glanced at the clock on the cash register. “Only for another hour. The mall closes at six tonight.”

“Any plans after?”

“No,” Steve frowned, unsure of what that had to do with anything. 

“I’ll be back.” Bucky slapped the counter meaningfully once and pivoted away quickly, obviously in a rush to get his last-minute gift for what was undoubtedly going to be his next incredibly lucky romantic partner. 

“The cheese is on the third floor!” Steve called out after him as Bucky practically ran towards the exit. 

“I’m not getting you fucking cheese, Steve!” Bucky yelled back, and Steve blinked, because what the hell?!

By the time he was slipping his coat on, the mall cleared out and the till counted for the last time, Steve had come to terms with the fact that he had obviously misunderstood Bucky’s final shout, because this universe was obviously not the universe where Bucky Barnes could want one Steve Rogers as a boyfriend. And Steve got it, he totally did. It was just that despite only knowing the guy for a few days, it was going to take a little while to get over that reality. Steve had faced worse. He’d be ok, eventually. Probably. Maybe by next Christmas, if he was lucky. 

Steve wasn’t sure he’d be doing any gift wrapping next year if he was still too busy carrying a torch though. That was a fire risk, and the one fire had been enough. 

“You were right,” Steve murmured to Jessica as she wound what looked like a ten-foot black knitted scarf around her neck. “That doll did need an exorcism.”

Jessica frowned and then moved forward to pull Steve into a hug, an uncharacteristic gesture from her which he, uncharacteristically, accepted. 

“I still don’t think this is over for you, Steve,” she stated confidently, squishing his face into the scarf with a surprising amount of strength. “He’s gonna come back for you.”

“There’s nothing to come back to.” Steve pulled away as the hug ended and followed Jessica’s lead of removing their elf hats for the final time that year and dropping them on the empty counter. The owners would be by to deconstruct the booth later. This was usually a cause for celebration, but today it just felt sad. “We’re done here.”

 Jessica frowned but said nothing as they walked towards the exit together. 

“Do you have a safe ride home?” Steve asked as they turned the corner towards the doors. 

Jessica nodded. “My mom is picking me up.” She squinted at him, considering. “If you want to come over tonight, my family is celebra-”

“Thanks, but no. I’m alright,” Steve cut off the well-meant reply, appreciating the invite but knowing he didn’t want to bring down an entire family’s celebration with his moping. 

Jessica stopped suddenly just before the glass doors leading outside, a chill passing through them both as Steve automatically stopped alongside her. 

Jessica blinked a few times, tilting her head to the side as if listening. “Jeremy says you won’t need to come over anyway. Bucky’s here for you.” 

Steve shook his head vehemently, not needing the pity of pretend ghostly optimism. “Stop.”

“Didn’t you feel that? That was him!” 

“That was a draft through the door!” Steve exclaimed as they started walking again, the automatic sensors opening the glass panes with a burst of cool air from the outside. 

“I swear to God, Steve, Jeremy says-”

“-And I swear to GOD,” a familiar voice rang out from just past the doors, a heat and volume to the words that Steve would recognize anywhere by now, “I just need to get inside for two minutes! I’m not tryna rob the place, Jesus!” 

They turned the corner to find Bucky in the midst of a verbal spar with a cranky looking security guard who was attempting to block him from entering the now closed mall. Bucky was holding what looked to be a kitchen chair and was waving it around a little wildly as he continued to argue.

Jessica grinned fiercely and very kindly did not rub this obvious I told you so moment in his face. “Merry Christmas Steve! See you next year!” She waved happily, the most joyous display Steve had ever seen from her, and bounded off towards an idling car, giving him one final wave as she tugged on her seatbelt before the car pulled away. 

Steve watched the car’s tail lights get lost amongst the heavy traffic and turned back to the situation at hand, Bucky’s reddening face a crimson parallel to the disappearing glow. 

“Hey, asshole!” Steve shouted, and Bucky’s head whipped up, his frustrated expression breaking into one of pure relief as he noticed Steve approaching him. “Stop being such a dick to the mall employees,” he grinned, knowing his face was far too pleased for the words to land with any sort of barb. “He’s sorry for the trouble.” Steve nodded towards the security guard. “He’s genetically dispositioned to being a shit head, I think. Just can’t seem to help himself.” Bucky’s eyes practically danced at that, but he added in his own sincere apology as the guard grumbled off to finally lock the external doors. 

“The fucking mouth on you,” Bucky laughed once he was gone, his face lit with the warmth of the holiday lights strung up in the few ornamental trees that lined the short pathway to the parking lot. “You’re here!” 

“You’re here,” Steve parroted back stupidly, his coconut brain back full-force. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Bucky ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his apparent exasperation over the ordeal with the guard easing slightly as he moved closer to Steve. “Traffic was a bitch. This is for you.” He nodded towards the worn-out chair in his arms, lifting it up a bit like an offering. 

“Uh, ok?” Steve took in the item with a tilted head. The chair was a little older looking but well cared for, reminding him a bit of the dining set his mom used to have. “The mall’s closed, obviously,” Steve cleared his throat, the following words hard to muster, but he pushed through regardless, “but if you need help wrapping it for your, uh… intended, I can still try to help you out. I think there’s a convenience store open a block from here that sells wrap-”

“Steve,” Bucky was frowning at him, the concerned line between his brows from earlier back with a vengeance. “Did you not hear me earlier? It’s for you. Well, technically,” he started to fumble a bit, “it’s my chair, and you’re probably not gonna, like, keep it, but it’s uh, supposed to be symbolic or something?” Bucky set the chair down to settle in the light dusting of snow on the walkway, taking another step forward to gather Steve’s hands in his own. Bucky’s fingers were warm and solid and Steve felt his heart trip over itself with the contact. “We’re having Christmas dinner tonight, me and Becca and the kids, and it’s a seat at the table, for you. And well, I know we can’t replace your mom, and my apartment’s pretty small, and there’s crayons crushed into the carpet like, all the time now, and it’s noisy, and Conner shits his diaper sometimes, and that smells just fucking awful, but I thought that maybe…” He ran a frustrated hand across his face, words trailing off. “Holy shit, I am not good at this emotional stuff, you gotta help me out here a little, Stevie,” he said desperately, eyes wide as they met Steve’s own. 

“Oh,” Steve breathed. “Ok.” And he pushed up on his toes to shut Bucky up for good. 

Bucky exhaled into the kiss like the weight of a thousand pounds was suddenly being lifted off his shoulders, his eyes falling closed as his arms came up to wrap around Steve. Steve returned the embrace, tucking his head under Bucky’s chin once the kiss ended naturally, happy to discover that despite the snow around them, romance could in fact be as easy and comfortable as a summer’s day. 

Steve’s phone rang just as he was shuffling from his bed towards the french press in the kitchen, a glance at the screen showing Bucky was on the other end. 

“Merry Christmas, Steve!” Bucky’s smile was evident over the line. 

Steve knew his own stupid face was sporting an equally ridiculous one to match though. “You just said that to me like, six hours ago when you dropped me off.” 

“Well, I’m sayin’ it again!” Bucky huffed out, and Steve felt his grin widen even further at his stubbornness. 

Dinner last night with the Barnes family had been both wonderful and chaotic, the easy laughter and flowing conversation encompassing everything Steve had missed about Christmas since his mom had passed. Looking over and seeing the glint of the tree lights shine in Bucky's eyes as they sat on the couch and talked long after the others had gone to bed had been something else as well, something never before experienced but entirely welcome nonetheless. It had felt like champagne flooding through his bloodstream, the effervescence concentrating on his lips whenever Bucky leaned over to press a soft kiss there, a sensation Steve was immediately sure he would never tire of. Giving rise to the flush of warm blood in Bucky's cheeks by way of his own tongue slipping into that impossibly soft mouth once he got up the nerve to properly kiss back was also something he knew he would be happy to do all day, now that the floodgates had been opened. 

The night had reluctantly come to a close hardly half a dozen hours ago, but from the sounds filtering in from the background, it seemed like the chaos aspect (courtesy of the kids) was still going strong. Steve shot a glance at the clock on the stove; 6:47 am . There was definitely some Christmas morning excitement happening over there if Conner’s sudden echoing shriek was anything to go by.

“Listen, I know we were gonna get together again this afternoon, but would you want to come over a little earlier? The kids and Becca really like you, and honestly, we could use you here.” Bucky blew out a long breath, the audible equivalent to him wanting to pull his hair out in frustration. “Ellie won’t open the fucking unicorn because she doesn’t want to destroy it. I told her you wrapped it and now she’s digging her heels in even more, because Steve made this and how dare I ever even suggest she rip open the damn thing! Jesus Christ, Steve, she won’t even need the training wheels anymore by the time I talk her into it.”

Steve cast a longing look at his french press then turned towards the bedroom to start pulling out clothes, knowing the trade-off was more than worth it. 

“Want me to pick up coffee on my way over?”

Another ear-piercing shriek sounded in the background. 

Bucky sighed. “Holy fucking shit, yes.”

Bucky met him in the hallway of his building half an hour later, already looking frazzled despite the still-early hour, but his face eased a bit as Steve approached. 

“Merry Christmas,” Steve greeted, holding out the promised drink. 

Bucky swooped down for a gentle kiss before accepting the coffee, Steve feeling the heat of it all the way down to his toes as Bucky pulled away with a smirk. 

“You look pretty cocky for someone who’s loitering barefoot in a hallway in their pyjamas,” Steve raised an eyebrow as Bucky leaned cooly back against his door, taking a pull from his cup like his life depended on it. 

Bucky licked his lips and let his eyelids droop a bit, gaze drawing over Steve from head to toe. “Guess I don’t need to ask if you remembered to shove that stick up your ass this morning before pulling those ridiculous jeans on,” he replied lightly. 

Steve felt his cheeks heat, unable to stop himself from looking down at his skinny jeans critically. “Fuck you.” 

Bucky’s Cheshire cat grin grew even wider. “Maybe once we go back to your place. There's children present here, Steve.” 

“Oh my God,” Steve gave in and facepalmed. “Why did I even come over?” He asked the ceiling.  

“Because you like us. You like me.” Bucky smiled, but there was a bit less confidence in it this time. “So hey, before we go in. Last night, dinner, it was great, and you’re great, and I guess...” Bucky cleared his throat, obviously trying to get his thoughts in order. “I guess what I want to say is I really like you Steve, but I know I’m a stubborn asshole, and I come with a lot of complications.” He jerked his thumb back towards the door, where the slightly muffled sounds of the kids and Becca were still drifting through. “I don’t even have my own goddamn bed right now, but they’re my family, and I’d do anything for them. So if this is gonna be too much for you, because it is too much sometimes, I know it, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to turn around now. Chalk it all up to one nice Christmas memory and call it quits. I would get it. I just want you to know that before you come inside and dig yourself any deeper into my chest. I’m not askin’ for a commitment, but with them in my life, you’re either all in with everybody or you’re out, you know? It’s not just me right now, and it may never really be just me. I’m always gonna look out for them.” Bucky slumped back against the door a bit, eyes weary and a little guarded as they met Steve’s own. 

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” Steve swallowed, his throat feeling oddly tight with the action. “You’re sayin’ this stuff like you think it’s a turnoff.” He chuckled a bit and ducked his head to run a hand across the back of his neck, meeting Bucky’s eyes again when he finally looked back up. “You know it’s a lot easier for me to talk to you when you’re bein’ a dick, right? This,” he waved a hand back and forth between them, “sincere stuff, it makes me feel like my tongue is swelling up or something.”

Bucky’s smile twitched, pleased with the admission. “I may have gotten that impression when you ignored every attempt I made to show you I was interested, and then ran away from me in a parking lot a couple days ago.”

Steve cringed as he felt his face take on a bit of heat. “I’m sorry I did that. I just didn’t know what to say.” 

“It’s alright, Steve. You know I'm ok with going at whatever pace you feel comfortable with. And hey, it worked out. You’re here now.” Bucky’s smile was soft and sure, no hint of resentment or judgment in sight. 

Steve felt something in him release, a settling of tension he hadn’t been aware existed in his shoulders until now. “You’re right. I am here.”

“So what do you say?” Bucky tilted his head back towards the door, the warmth in his eyes matching that in his voice. “With all our cards on the table; my shitty temper and lack of apartment space, and your smart-ass attitude that doesn't know how to take a compliment. You wanna get outta this hallway and come inside with me? Because I don’t know if you noticed, Steve, but I’m barefoot and in my pyjamas out here. It’s fucking embarrassing. I’ll even sweeten the deal with a cheese plate if it helps. I think Becca brought home some Swiss the other day.”

Steve felt something warm and fond settle in his chest as he stepped forward to press Bucky up against the door, the brunette angling his head down slightly to meet Steve’s gaze. Bucky’s eyes were soft and lined at the edges, the creases evidence of too many long days at work and early mornings up with his niece and nephew. It only made him more beautiful though, that physical reminder of the caring nature Bucky displayed so openly, and although they were new to each other, still getting to know likes and dislikes, passions and pains, Steve knew that this was something he wanted to wrap himself in and become a part of. It wasn’t a life-long commitment, not quite yet, but it was an acceptance, a wholehearted understanding of life and circumstance not always being perfect, but doing your damnedest to find those perfect, fleeting moments in between, and holding tight to them as best you could once they arrived. It was the desire to try. 

Steve smiled and leaned forward to press a long kiss to that annoying, offensive mouth he was already beginning to love. 

“Yeah, let’s go inside.”