A/N: This was written for you_me_and_obsession. Thanks to andjudar for the beta. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

All I Want For Christmas is You

It was Christmas Eve. The other Avengers were in the common room, but Steve sat in his office watching old newsreels from the war. He had put together a special reel containing footage of him and Bucky. In recent months the search for his long lost friend had all but stopped. He had been busy helping Natasha train the new team which left precious little time to run down dead end leads. Even if they had something to go on, there was always something more urgent that needed his attention. He watched the images of his friend's smiling face on the screen. Bucky was out there somewhere, he knew it in his gut. Natasha had tried to prepare him for the possibility that Bucky had been killed or recaptured by what was left of Hydra, but Steve couldn't believe he would find Bucky after all this time just to lose him again before they even had a chance to talk.

"Are you watching those again?"

Steve turned to see Natasha standing in the doorway. He paused the video. "Did you need something?"

"You," she said. "We're going to watch a movie."

"I'm not really in the mood."

She leaned over his shoulder and closed the video player. "Get in the mood. Do you really want to spend Christmas Eve watching old war movies?"

"I just wish I knew where he was," Steve said dolefully. "I hate the thought of him being alone on Christmas."

Natasha laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know, but sitting in here alone all day isn't going to help."

Steve nodded and followed her to the screening room. Wanda, Rhodey, and Sam were discussing the movie while Vision listened curiously.

"How have you never seen A Christmas Carol?" Sam asked Wanda.

"Have you ever had those cookies I made?"

"She's got you there Sam," Rhodey said.

"Alright, which version are we watching?" Steve asked.

Sam flipped through the options. "How about you tell me which one you haven't seen. We have the one from 1938,"

"I saw that one in the theater," Steve cut in with a wistful smile. He had dragged Bucky to see it one Friday night. Bucky had been so tired from work that he had fallen asleep in the theater with his head on Steve's shoulder.

Sam continued scrolling through the choices. "Ok, George C. Scott, Patrick Stewart, that weird one with Jim Carrey, Mickey Mouse, the Muppets."

"We're not watching the Muppet version if Wanda's never seen the regular one," Rhodey said.

"Ok, we'll do that one tomorrow," Steve said. "Let's go with George C. Scott. That one's supposed to be good."

They settled in as Sam hit play. Steve yawned and leaned back into the plush chair. As the music started, he felt his eyes start to drift closed.

Loki looked at the sleeping Avengers. The red one, Vision, Thor had called him, floated to his feet, the gem in his head glowing. He seemed immune to the spell, but that was easily rectified.

"What have you done?" he demanded, stepping in front of the witch.

"Don't worry, it's just a bit of fun," Loki assured him. He picked up a tree shaped cookie from the table. "This is such a curious holiday. The customs have so little to do with the actual deity they're meant to worship. So much of it actually reminds me of the way people used to worship us, but I suppose we have been a bit neglectful of late."

"Why are you here?" the Vision repeated.

"I am a god," he said with a sly smile. "And gods answer prayers."

Vision charged forward. Loki stepped in and tapped the gem, freezing it. The Vision fell to the floor. He would wake soon, but not in time to intervene.

"Now," he said, looking at the sleeping Avengers. "Show me your heart's desire."

Bucky clutched his jacket tighter as he walked home from the Christmas Eve service. It had been years since he had last celebrated Christmas but this year he had found himself swept up in the bustle of the holiday season in Bucharest. He had managed to find a Catholic church within walking distance. Most of the carols were unfamiliar but the atmosphere was comforting. It reminded him of a life he could almost remember and for the first time since his escape, he dared to pray that he might someday be reunited with Steve. It had been a year and a half since he had left his one-time lover on the banks of the Potomac. He wasn't ready to face Steve, not after some of the memories he had pieced together, but he could now picture a day when he might be. For the first time in ages, he felt as though God might actually be watching.

He climbed the stairs to his dingy apartment and opened the door. He had saved money for some sort of Christmas bread from the bakery and a bottle of plum brandy. They were waiting for him on the counter. As he opened the cabinet to get a glass, he felt a sudden prickling on the back of his neck. He turned around, drawing his knife. On the bed lay a man. He was certain the man had not been there when he walked in, but there was no denying he was there now. He thought about running, but his curiosity got the better of him. As he approached the man opened his eyes and sat up, looking around in confusion. Their eyes met and Bucky's breath caught in his throat. It was Steve.

"Bucky?"

They stared at each other for a moment. Steve stood and took a hesitant step forward. He stopped just out of reach, looking at Bucky in disbelief.

"Is this a dream?" Steve asked. "Are you really here?"

Bucky took a step back, clutching the knife tighter. "Are you?"

Steve looked around the apartment and then back at Bucky. "Do you know me?"

"Sometimes." Bucky sheathed the knife, his hands shaking. "You're Steve."

Steve stepped forward and brushed his cheek lightly. He ran his fingers through Bucky's hair. "Is this real?"

"I don't know," Bucky said. He was starting to think he had fallen asleep in church.

"I was watching a movie, at the complex. I fell asleep." Steve slid his fingers down Bucky's arm to grab his hand. "This isn't possible. It has to be a dream."

"It feels real," Bucky said, gripping Steve's hand tightly.

"Dream or not, this is the closest I've been to you in 18 months." He put a hand on Bucky's cheek. "And I've been dreaming about doing this since you left me by the river."

Steve leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, hesitant and sweet, but Bucky wanted more. He pulled Steve to him, kissing him hungrily, like a starving man eating for the first time in months. This was all he had wanted for Christmas and if it was just a dream, he was going to make it a good one.

Bucky reached for Steve's shirt. He ripped it open, scattering buttons across the floor. Steve shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. He took off Bucky's jacket and then pulled his shirt over his head. Steve flung himself at Bucky, wrapping his legs around Bucky's waist. Bucky stumbled forward to the mattress, landing on top of Steve.

"I guess we can't really do that anymore!" Steve laughed.

"You used to be smaller," Bucky remembered. "I used to be able to pick you up and throw you over my shoulder."

Steve looked at him, tracing the puckered scar on his shoulder where metal met flesh.

"Do I look strange?" Bucky asked.

"A little," Steve confessed. "But you're here."

He kissed Steve with a furious passion, slowly moving down to kiss his neck. Steve gasped and dug his fingers into Bucky's neck as Bucky worked his way down to kiss Steve's chest. Steve was lying on his bed and Bucky wanted to taste every inch of him. He swirled his tongue around a nipple before kneeling on the floor to unzip Steve's jeans. In one quick motion, he yanked them off and bent down to kiss Steve's stomach, slowly working down to his already hard cock. Steve moaned as he took it into his mouth, savoring the taste as he ran his tongue up the length and across the tip. Steve weaved his hands into Bucky's hair, making soft sounds sweeter than any carol.

Bucky thought about the night before their final mission. Steve had begged him to come to bed, but Bucky had been exhausted and said goodnight with just a kiss. He had been so foolish. He vowed that if he and Steve were ever really reunited, he would never take Steve or their time together for granted again. He slid down further, gagging slightly as Steve's cock hit the back of his throat. It had been so long since he had done this and Bucky had forgotten how big Steve was. He tried to relax his throat, determined to take Steve in as deep as possible. Steve groaned, pressing Bucky's head down further. Gagging, Bucky backed off to catch his breath, swirling his tongue around the head of Steve's cock. He felt Steve's hands clench in his hair as Steve came. The taste of him filled Bucky's mouth, thick and rich like eggnog.

Steve leaned forward to kiss the top of Bucky's head. "I love you, Bucky."

"I love you too," Bucky echoed.

Steve bent down to kiss his metal shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I should have looked for you."

Bucky took Steve's head in his hands. Tears glistened in his blue eyes. He wiped a tear from Steve's cheek with his thumb.

"You saved me," he said firmly. "God only knows what would have happened if you hadn't recognized me on that bridge, but you did. You saved me." None of what had happened was Steve's fault. He wouldn't let his lover carry that guilt.

Steve kissed him again, unzipping his jeans and sliding a hand inside. Bucky pushed them the rest of the way off and dove back in for a kiss. He pushed Steve down onto the bed and crawled on top of him, pinning Steve to the mattress with his full weight. He trailed his fingers down Steve's side, tracing the curves of his muscled torso. Steve's slid a hand between them and took a hold of Bucky. Bucky gasped, and arched into the touch. This still might be a dream, but even in a dream, the feel of Steve's hands on him again was heavenly. As Steve stroked him, Bucky could feel Steve getting hard again. Steve had always been amazingly quick to recover, even before the serum. Steve wrapped a hand around both of them. Bucky thrust into Steve's grip, rubbing against him. Steve gasped, the fingers of his other hand digging into the hard muscles of Bucky's back, desperately pulling him closer.

Bucky leaned in to suck on Steve's neck, gently nipping at his throat. He tried to take in every taste, feel, smell and sound from Steve. The salt of his skin, the subtle smell of his cologne, the heat of his breath, and the helpless needy whimper as Bucky nibbled his earlobe. None of it had changed, but he had forgotten it once and he wanted to be sure that didn't happen again. He sat back for a moment to look at him, taking in the lines of his face and the curves of his hard body.

Steve pounced, twisting his hips and throwing Bucky down on the mattress. He grabbed both of Bucky's wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. Bucky quivered with excitement as Steve leaned in to kiss him. He could have easily overpowered him with the bionic arm, but he let Steve hold him. This had always been their game, even before the serum. Steve would pin him down and Bucky would let himself be held, surrendering to his tiny lover. Steve wasn't so tiny anymore, but Bucky still reveled in the idea of submitting to him. He loved to see Steve like this, powerful, strong, in charge. The look in his eyes knowing that Bucky's pleasure was in his control was beautiful. Steve planted his other hand on Bucky's chest, grinding his hips against Bucky's with a firm, steady rhythm. He stared into Bucky's eyes, not saying a word as he drove Bucky closer and closer to the edge. Bucky arched his back, a ragged scream escaping his lips.

"Steve!"

Steve ground into him harder, wrapping his hand around them once more as he neared the end. He let go of Bucky's wrists and took his flesh hand, interlocking their fingers as he rubbed against him furiously. With his metal hand, Bucky reached around to stroke Steve's balls with a cold metal finger. Steve shuddered, clenching Bucky's hand tightly. The look on his face was enough to push Bucky over the edge. He came, arching his hips into Steve's. Steve followed quickly and sagged forward onto Bucky's chest, panting for breath. Bucky leaned in and kissed the top of his head gently. Steve rolled off to the side with a satisfied smile on his face as Bucky pulled the blanket over them and lay his head on Steve's chest.

"That was," Steve began. He looked at Bucky and they both broke down into helpless laughter. For a moment, they were back in Brooklyn, lying in Steve's bed with the blankets wrapped around them while the snow fell outside the window. For the first time in years, Bucky felt safe and at peace. He drifted off to sleep, listening to Steve's heartbeat.

Steve stroked Bucky's hair as he nodded off. There was so much to say, but right now he just wanted to watch Bucky sleep. He bent down to kiss Bucky's forehead and slipped out of bed to get a glass of water. He was suddenly thirsty. If this was a dream, it was incredibly real.

He looked over at Bucky's sleeping form as he drank, taking in the sight of his beloved Bucky lying peacefully in the bed. From the bits and pieces he had put together about Bucky's existence since the war, he guessed that Bucky probably didn't sleep well. Even back in the war, Bucky's nightmares about his captivity in the Hydra base had kept him awake. On missions he had never been able to fall asleep unless Steve was on watch. Once after a night of drinking, he had confessed that he only felt safe enough to relax when Steve was watching over him.

Steve glanced around the small apartment. On the counter beside him lay a journal. Curious, he opened it. Most of the pages were blank, but this one seemed to be about him. There were pictures, newspaper clippings, and a few handwritten notes. Bucky was trying to piece things together. In his darkest moments, Steve had feared that his friend's mind might be lost forever, but some part of him was still there, trying to find his way. He closed the book and slipped back into bed. He pulled the blankets tightly around them, listening to the steady rhythm of Bucky's breath.

"Bucky?" he said. Bucky stirred but did not wake up. Steve stroked his cheek. "I don't know why I haven't found you yet, but I'm not going to give up. Even if this is a dream, I know that you're out there." He took Bucky's hand and brought it to his lips. "Merry Christmas," he whispered as he drifted off to sleep.

Loki laughed as the man on the screen begged for his pathetic existence, swearing to the black robed figure that he would change his ways. The next scene cut to him fighting bed curtains as he woke up safe and sound back in his house. These mortals were such foolish creatures. No Asgardian would have fallen for such obvious trickery.

"Loki!" Thor bellowed from the door. "What do you think you are doing!"

Loki smirked. No, when tricking Asgardians, one had to be more subtle. "Have you seen this film?" he asked without turning around. "It's actually quite entertaining."

Thor grabbed his shirt and lifted him out of the chair. "Where are they?"

"I haven't hurt them," Loki assured him.

"Bring them back."

"Are you sure? I've granted their deepest desires."

"Bring them back now!" Thor demanded.

Loki ran a finger down Thor's chest, stopping just before the bulge in his pants. "And what will you do if I refuse?"

Thor grabbed his wrist. "Do not test me."

Loki quivered with anticipation. Thor was so easy to manipulate sometimes it almost took the fun out of it, but the reward would be satisfaction enough. Thor had been distracted of late with his search for the Infinity Stones and he had been absent from Loki's bedchamber most nights. He would have to make Thor pay attention to him.

"Honestly, brother, you have no sense of humor," Loki said with a mischievous grin. He concentrated for a moment and the Avengers reappeared, asleep in their chairs. "See, no harm done."

Thor grabbed his arm and led him out of the room as the Avengers began to stir. "Let us go and hope they will think it was all a dream."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that."

"For your sake I hope not," Thor growled, his grip on Loki's arm painfully tight. Loki tried to hide his enjoyment. For a brief moment, he felt a twinge of guilt at picking a fight, but Thor was also so passionate when he was angry. Loki tried to remember where he had put the cat o nine tails after their last tryst. He was looking forward to his punishment for this little escapade.

Steve awoke, his head pounding. His dream had seemed so real, yet here he was, lying in his chair, fully clothed as though nothing had happened. The others started to wake up. He could see in their faces that they had experienced something similar. Vision and Wanda looked at each other and then quickly looked away.

"What was that?" Natasha asked.

"Loki," Vision answered, wincing in pain as he rubbed the gem. "He put us to sleep. What happened after that, I cannot say."

"Did we dream that?" Sam asked.

Steve touched his lips. "I don't know."

"Real or not, my head is killing me." Rhodey said. "I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, That's a good idea," Steve agreed. He stood and stretched, feeling strangely heavy. Natasha looked at him, frowning.

"You're missing a button."

Bucky awoke alone. He could almost still feel Steve's hand on his chest, but the night seemed like a dream. As unreliable as his memory was some days, it might have been. He opened his journal and started to record it while it was still fresh in his mind. If it had been real, he didn't want to risk forgetting it. As he wrote, other memories began to flood back to him. He thought about their first kiss, the first time he went down on Steve in the back of his dad's car, the time they had sex in the shed at Coney Island and someone stole their clothes.

As he wrote, another string of memories came rushing back. Blood, death, torture. He dropped the pen, staring at his hands. He could almost see the blood dripping from his fingers. As he rushed to the sink, he remembered why he had not sought Steve out when he escaped. There was no way he could face Steve after the things he had done. He scrubbed his hands slowly and methodically, trying to breathe. The blood was just in his mind. He was free now.

As his breathing slowed, he turned off the water and went to retrieve his clothes. A small spot of red caught his eye. For a moment he looked at his hands, thinking it might be a drop of blood. As he bent down to examine it, he realized it was a small red button. He remembered ripping off Steve's shirt and hearing the buttons scatter on the wood floor. Steve had been wearing red. He clutched the button tightly, remembering the feel of Steve's hands on him. It had been real. Steve had been here. He brought it to his lips before slipping it into his pocket for safekeeping. One day, he might be ready to face the disappointment in Steve's eyes. For now, he was happy to have his Christmas wish.

-Epilogue-

Bucky rubbed his head, still a bit dazed from the mind control and the helicopter crash. A thought hit him and a wave of panic surged through his chest as he fished in his pocket for the red button. He relaxed as his fingers brushed against it.

Steve looked at him, concerned. "Are you ok?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright."

Wilson came back into the room. "You get a hold of Barton?"

"He'll meet us at the airport," Steve said. "We should get going,"

Bucky followed Steve out of the garage. Wilson rushed out to the small Volkswagen and climbed in the passenger's side. Steve opened the door and moved the seat for Bucky to climb in the back. Bucky paused, fingering the button.

"Before anything else happens." He put a hand on Steve's cheek and leaned in to kiss him, pressing the button into Steve's hand. Steve looked at it and stared at Bucky in disbelief. Bucky just smirked.

"I think you dropped this."

-End-

Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think.