This was supposed to be posted on Christmas Eve but I am a lazy ass. Anyways, Merry Christmas everybody! :)
My mother tongue is not English, sorry if there's any spelling/grammar mistakes.
Edit 6/6/2015: Thanks to those who favorited/reviewed this story, even after all this time. I made a few minor edits, but the story is the same.
Attention all passengers. Flight 56 to Los Angeles, California has been delayed due to inclement weather until further notice. We are sorry for the inconvenience.
Bucky sighs and slumps back in the uncomfortable seat of the airport's waiting room. He's fucking freezing beneath his heavy clothes, he's hungry, and now his flight has been delayed. It's not like he has to be somewhere on Christmas Eve but still… he does not want to spend it stranded in a fucking airport.
The waiting room is mostly empty now, except for a small family eating McDonald's, a couple making out in a dark corner (perfectly visible, despite their efforts to remain unperceived) and a skinny kid three seats away from where he is. He feels a little sad watching the family eat. They're obviously here on Christmas Eve by mistake; they may have missed their flight or something. Yet, they look perfectly happy sharing burgers and fries in the improvised table they made out of suitcases. The kids (they must be 9 or 10, Bucky thinks) are laughing while they stick French fries into their nostrils. It's pretty gross, but their parents laugh anyways. Bucky is jealous. He would've given everything, back when he was the kids' age, to have what these children are enjoying now. He sighs and averts his eyes to the blond guy. He's working on some kind of notebook, by the way his hands move Bucky assumes he's drawing.
Bucky watches him for a while (until it gets uncomfortable and creepy, really). He looks rather young at first, but after thorough observation, Bucky comes to the conclusion that he probably is around his age. He also can't help but think the guy's pretty attractive, in his own particular way. He has plump pink lips, light-colored eyes (Bucky's betting on baby blues) with eyelashes that go on for days, and what probably looked like a straight nose some time ago, but now has a little bump on the bridge from being broken. He's so skinny Bucky is almost afraid he's going to break in half with the way he's crouched over his notebook, though. His right foot bounces incessantly against the floor, bottom lip sucked back into his mouth in concentration. His blond hair constantly falls over his eyes and he flips it back in a way Bucky can only describe as hot. He has no idea how someone flipping their hair back in place could be hot, but it is. Yeah, he's pretty cute.
Bucky considers talking to the guy for a few minutes. He never does this, talking to random people. At least not in the cheesy rom-com way. Because absolutely everything about this screams rom-com. He's seen Love Actually plenty of times, he would know.
Ah, fuck it. It's Christmas. Or whatever.
Bucky walks a few steps and stands awkwardly in front of the blond, hands shoved deep inside his coat, blocking the bright lights illuminating the waiting room from whatever the guy is working on. He looks up, frowning.
"Uh… hi?" the blond says, squinting to try and catch a glimpse of Bucky's face, partially covered by a curtain of silky dark hair. His voice is surprisingly deep for someone his size. Bucky decides instantly he likes it. He likes him.
"Hello" Bucky answers with a small smile. "Can I sit here?"
"Sure" he grins back.
"I'm Bucky."
"Steve" he says, closing his sketchbook just as Bucky sits beside him.
They stare at each other silently for a few uncomfortable seconds and then burst into laughter. Steve shakes his head. Bucky notices the way Steve's eyes, which in fact are a beautiful shade of blue, crinkle at the edges when he laughs.
"So, uh, wanna get some McDonald's?" Bucky asks. It's not romantic, it's not smooth but that's all really Bucky can do. He likes to think about it as a quirky detail.
More like a tacky one.
"Yeah, why not?" Steve shrugs and smiles.
They get burgers and fries, lay a blanket Steve has for the flight on the floor and start eating.
"Are you even old enough to fly alone? You look eighteen… ish. Please tell me you're not runnin' away from home or something" Bucky jokes, tossing a couple of fries into his mouth.
"Hey! I'm twenty-four" Steve gives him a playful shove.
"Oh, that's good. I was almost waiting for an angry mom to show up and save her son from the handsome evil trouble boy."
Steve laughs and wipes his greasy hands on a paper napkin before re-opening his sketchbook.
"Handsome evil trouble boy? Is that what angry moms called you when they caught you fooling around with their innocent daughters back in high school?"
"Nope. I didn't get to fool around with 'em. One look at me and I was out the door" Bucky shrugs. "It's the hair" the brunet winks.
"Well I can see why they didn't want you anywhere near their daughters. You kind of look like sin" Steve glances at him, smirking and then looks back down at his sketchbook.
Bucky feels his face burning. God. He is an idiot because he's blushing like a schoolgirl and he's fucking twenty-six. Also, he started flirting first but Steve got him back. That's shame worthy. Bucky shoves the remaining half-burger into his mouth, just to shut himself up and avoid saying something stupid.
"Where are ya going for Christmas? Family dinner?" Bucky asks matter-of-factly after he manages to swallow the burger without choking.
"No. My ma passed away on January, I'm on my own now" Steve says quietly, his voice lacking the merry tone it had from the beginning. "I've got some friends in DC, so I'm spending Christmas with them."
"Oh. Sorry" Bucky really doesn't know what else to say.
"'S okay. How about you?"
"I'm going to Los Angeles."
"Got family there?"
"Nope. Been an orphan my whole life" Bucky says. "Every Christmas Eve I choose a random destination and just… take off. Find a bar or something, wander about for a while and head up to a random hotel. I'm always back the next day."
"Must be exciting" Steve says sincerely.
"Feels lonely, mostly."
Oh, God. He shouldn't have said that.
Bucky wants to slap himself unconscious. He avoids Steve's gaze, because he knows it will most likely be filled with pity, and Bucky would not be able to stand it. The last thing he wants is to Steve feel sorry for him.
But Steve breaks the awkward silence with a surprising statement.
"Yeah, I know."
His words are simple, a very short phrase. Bucky notices a tinge of pain in them, maybe a bit of bitterness too. It makes his heart clench.
Attention all passengers. Flight 63 to Washington, D.C. has been canceled. For rebooking please contact your airline or go to Costumer Service. We are sorry for the inconvenience.
Bucky despises the announcer right now. So much.
"Oh. Well, that was my flight. I guess I should go home" Steve says. Bucky gets the impression that Steve didn't want to go anyways.
Bucky doesn't want him to leave. But what could he say? Hey Steve, I met you like thirty minutes ago but you are the cutest person I have ever seen and I really don't want you to go. Stay with me on Christmas Eve, in this airport? Or stay forever? Either is good. Yeah, right.
Steve is already gathering his stuff, wrapping himself in a humongous scarf and putting on a beanie. Bucky panics, thinking of a million ways to make Steve stay, no matter how ridiculous or desperate they are.
Steve grabs the handle of his suitcase and looks up at Bucky to say goodbye, but as soon as his eyes meet the brunet's a hand is grasping his wrist tightly.
"Please don't go" Bucky blurts out. Fuck. "Uh, I mean… do you mind staying… for a while? I… "
Steve smiles widely, nods, and sits back down.
They spend the next 45 minutes talking about nothing, or everything. Bucky can't really make out the difference because every single thing that falls out of Steve's mouth seems precious to him. He wants to listen to him talk every day of his life from now on.
He tells Steve about his life in the orphanage, and Steve tells him about his mother, Sarah. They talk about pie. Steve loves apple pie, Bucky discovers. They both want a dog. They both hate bullies.
Bucky loves the way Steve's face lights up whenever he talks about his best friend, Sam. He also likes how his voice cracks a little when he starts talking about freedom and values, passion overflowing in every word. He particularly likes when Steve bites his bottom lip as his perfectly sharpened pencil glides over the paper when he offers to do Bucky a portrait.
After nearly two hours, Bucky comes to the realization that he likes everything about Steve Rogers.
Attention all passengers. Flight 56 to Los Angeles, California has been rescheduled to depart at 9:15 P.M. from gate B36 . We wish you a nice flight and a merry Christmas.
"I think you should get going. Wouldn't wanna lose your flight" Steve says, his gaze fixed on his lap.
"What? Oh. Oh, yeah. I probably should" Bucky answers, feeling a little thrown off. He stands up and fishes around his pocket for his ticket. Steve is looking at him with wide eyes and a little smile plastered on his face. Bucky's stomach twists: Steve is absolutely beautiful, even if his nose is a bit red and his lips are chapped and his hands are cold as ice. All Bucky can think of at this point is kissing him senseless.
"I should go home now" the blond suddenly says, standing up too and grabbing his suitcase.
"Okay. See you 'round."
"Happy Holidays" Steve says, then grins. He walks down the hall and towards entrance. Bucky watches him until he's out the crystal automatic doors, his silhouette blurry and distant.
Bucky is dumbfounded. It takes him about a minute to realize he'll probably regret letting Steve leave like this, and another one to run out the airport and down the street after the blond. Los Angeles can wait. Los Angeles can go to hell for all he cares now.
"Steve?! Steve!" Bucky shouts breathlessly as he slows to a stop a few feet behind the scrawny man.
Steve turns around abruptly. Bucky is conveniently face to face with him.
"Bucky? What…?"
The brunet cuts him off with a kiss, his hands cupping Steve's cold cheeks. The world seems to stop the very moment their lips touch. The kiss barely lasts a few seconds, but Bucky is sure that this precise moment is the highlight of his whole year.
They stay close like that for a few minutes after breaking the kiss, foreheads touching.
"The movies lie" Bucky whispers.
"What?" Steve laughs.
"This should be romantic, but we're both fucking freezing and the snow on your hair is melting already. This is not romantic."
Steve laughs and gives him a small peck.
"My place is twenty minutes from here" the blond says as an invitation, grabbing Bucky's hand.
"Lead the way"
They stay silent as they walk down the empty street, hand in hand. The snow falls over them softly and all the houses and stores are beautifully adorned with bright lights. It's kind of ridiculous how this resembles a damn rom-com scene, really. Bucky feels like the lamest, cheesiest person on Earth.
"Are you one of those Christmas-crazed people who put up ornaments everywhere and sing carols at midnight and shit?" Bucky asks. "Oh, God. You don't happen to have an ugly Christmas sweater, do ya?"
"Maybe" Steve chirps. "That's for you to find out."
Bucky rolls his eyes fondly and squeezes Steve hand.
"Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas."
Steve smiles and Bucky feels like he's walking on air.
"Merry Christmas, Buck."