Bucky awoke pleasantly naturally. No alarms, no texts, no nightmares, no wailing cats. Just the gentle pull from sleep he didn't often experience. When his vision came into focus, he was greeted with the view of Harper's bare back. A smiled lifted his lips, blue eyes drifting lazily over the smooth, pale skin. He mapped out the freckles, appreciated the gentle slopes of her shoulder blades. Her espresso hair tumbled in messy waves across the pillow and her shoulders, her arms tucked out of sight below her head. The comforter pooled above her hips, hiding from view her bare legs. They had gone to bed both donning only their undergarments, which had been an overall positive change. He liked feeling closer to her, despite the vulnerability he had to experience.
Shyness about his body was something entirely new to him. He had been confident before enlisting, and had been even more confident after going through army training. Women were always attracted to him, and being an object of female desire had filled him with self-satisfaction and fed his ego. Now, however, his body was a product of experimentation. He had a machine designed to kill fused to him. And the scarring across his left shoulder and chest wasn't attractive; it was a result of his arm being shorn off his body, of the remaining flesh being shoddily removed, of the skin having been stretched taught to accommodate merging with the metal arm. It was all a reminder of too much pain, a tangible testament to one of the most hellish experiences of his very long life, and he hadn't been sure how to let someone see all of that.
The dark haired man wanted little more than to trace his fingers up and down her spine, to feel this new expanse of skin. But he didn't want to wake her; her life was busy and stressful, and sleep was well deserved. Any peace she could get should be protected, especially after the fight he'd basically caused a couple days prior. He didn't regret the argument, as his concerns for her wellbeing were well founded and needed to be worked out, but he admittedly went about the discussion without direction or tact. He was lucky that she was a particularly skilled communicator, and that she understood his emotional and communicative shortcomings.
The former soldier was able to enjoy lying beside the young social worker in calm silence for a little while longer before he heard the change in her breathing. A tiny groan was muffled by her pillow in her adorable last ditch effort to hang on to sleep that always turned Bucky's lips. He watched as she lifted her head, one hand sneaking beneath her hair to rub at her eyes. Slowly, she turned to look at him, letting her head fall back to the pillows, her hair tumbling down her back with the movement.
"Morning," she greeted sleepily.
"Morning, doll," he repeated with a warm smile. "Sleep well?"
She hummed her affirmative answer, eyes fluttering closed again. "You?"
"I did," he answered. With a wicked grin, he added, "I was pretty well spent."
Pink dusted her cheeks. "It's too early to tease me."
"I disagree, but you win this time," he allowed. He reached out and finally indulged his desire to run his palm up and down her back. Her skin was warm and soft, the curve of her spine as tantalizing as any of the other slopes and valleys of her body. Harper let out a sigh through her nose, body remaining totally relaxed beneath his touch. As his fingers waltzed down her spine, he marveled again at how much genuine trust she had in him.
"Are we okay after everything that's happened in the past few days?" he asked.
Harper's eyes met his. "I sure hope we're alright since you had your hand in my pants last night."
He couldn't help but laugh, her blunt comment relieving him of the last of his worries. His arms curled around her, pulling her into him. With another chuckle, he pecked her lips and bumped the tip of his nose against hers.
Harper: Remind me why I gave up drinking?
James: To decrease the frequency and severity of your incapacitating, painful cluster headaches?
Harper: Ah. Right. Thank you.
James: Tough day?
Harper: Exceedingly. My colleague had a personal emergency, but a baby needed to be removed from one of her families today. Lucky me, I had an office day, so I was free to fill in for her.
James: Geez, doll, I'm real sorry. That sounds like a really hard thing to do.
Harper: It is. But it was worse than usual because the dealing father got so pissed off, we had to get the police involved.
James: Are you alright?
Harper: Yeah, stuff like that just shakes me up a little bit. Normally, I'd have a couple drinks to calm down, but… Well, you know that option is out.
James: Want me to come over?
Harper: No, that's okay. Just hearing from you makes me feel better.
James: I wish you weren't in danger on the job, doll.
Harper: It's super atypical that I am.
James: All the same. It's stressful and sad; you shouldn't have to worry about your wellbeing, too.
Harper: Maybe not, but it is what it is. One of the customers of the baby's dealer daddy was so tweaked out the other day that they knocked the basinet over. Either I went in and took him out, or he would be at risk and defenseless another day. Someone has to intervene, whenever possible, for those who can't defend themselves.
James: You sound so much like Steve sometimes.
Harper: Bet we'd get along.
James: I'm sure you would.
Harper: Think we'll ever get the chance?
James: Doubtful.
Harper: Do you ever plan on trying to go back home?
James: I don't know what the plan is.
Harper: If I managed to find a way back to the States, what would we do?
James: I'm not sure.
Harper: Would you consider coming with me?
James: I'd consider a lot of things. My feelings for you among them.
Harper: Oof. This sounds a lot heavier than what I have the capacity to handle tonight. Can I take a raincheck on this conversation, even though I'm the one that started it?
James: Of course. Take it easy, okay?
Harper: Thanks, hun.
A couple months passed, and things were good. For once, winter being on the horizon didn't seem so terrible. Harper was excited that in a mere few weeks, Christmas would be upon them. She was a rather odd mixture of being extra cheerful and extra stressed. Work picked up around the holidays; they were triggering for a lot of the people she saw. But she had gotten a couple little knickknacks for her apartment, and had been especially excited about the matching stockings she had gotten for them. She even whipped out the glitter and etched their names on their respective coal receptacles. His life wasn't perfect, but it was much better than he could've imagined it being, and he was happy.
"You've almost converted me to liking the cold, doll," Bucky smirked, amusement shining in his eyes.
"Oh?" she questioned, quirking a brow flirtatiously. "How so?"
"You're so damn pretty in your winter wear," he answered, swooping down to press a kiss to her temple. He pulled her in closer by the anchor if his arm around her waist.
Harper let out a laugh and said, "Really? There's a whole lot of fabric in my winter wear and even more black items than my summer wardrobe."
Blue eyes roaming her form, he had to admit that was technically correct. Her staple outfit, well represented that evening, was a black shift dress, though most of the one currently draped on her form was covered by her black peacoat. Opaque, shiny black tights covered her legs, disappearing into tall boots. The back of the boots were corset tied, purely for aesthetics, and they had just enough of a heel to them. She also sometimes wore ankle boots, but he admittedly liked these that hit a little below the knee much better. Her winter apparel was overall feminine and suggested at her figure while still being dark and modest and definitively Harper.
"Maybe, but I like the tights and boots. The combination is super sexy."
She laughed again and her hand covered his perched above her hip. "You know, it still genuinely blows my mind that someone like you could ever find me attractive."
Bucky bumped another kiss to her temple. "Then I mustn't be telling you often enough."
"Sto-op," she whined, playfully shoving his side with her free hand. "You're too nice to me.
"No way. Just because I'm the only man sensible enough to tell you how sexy you are doesn't mean I'm being too nice."
"James, I hate the 'S' word," Harper pouted, brown eyes rolling upward to look at him.
"I'll have to say that more often, too. Familiarity breeds acceptance."
"You're such a pain in my ass," she sighed with no true contempt in her voice.
"Oh, darlin', now we get to talk about your ass? What a great night it's shaping up to be!" he chortled.
She smirked up at him and titled her chin upward, bringing her lips as close to his ear as she could given their height difference. "Sorry, hun, nobody's actually getting near this ass. That's a no-go zone, even for your incredibly hot self."
The conversation opened up to filthy jest, Bucky grinned wickedly. Lowering his mouth to her ear, he breathed, "That's fine; I have a feeling that I wouldn't ever tire of that wet pussy anyway."
Her face flamed red and she shoved him again. "James!"
He burst into laughter, feeling younger and so much more like the oldest version of himself than he had in a long time. Chest warm with happiness, it was without any thought that he replied, "Gosh, I love you, Harper."
She froze, forcing him to stop walking, too. He registered the look of surprise on her face. In that moment, he grasped two things. Firstly, he realized what he had said. Secondly, he knew that it was true. That maybe he had for quite a while. It wasn't how the traditionalist in him would have ever wanted to confess his feelings to her, but it had flown from his lips so honestly, so naturally, he couldn't even be upset with himself for letting it slip. People walked around them on the sidewalk, mildly annoyed at their inconvenient stopping place, but neither noticed.
Slowly, Harper asked, "Do you mean that… casually? Like… just as a friendly saying?"
"No," he shook his head. "I mean it."
Another couple seconds passed before the shock began to disappear from her expression. A genuine smile tilted her lips. Squeezing the hand she still held on her hip, she declared, "I love you, too."
His heart sang, her words striking him at the core. He hadn't ever exchanged the sentiment with a woman before. He had heard many confessions, but none of his past dating life had come close to the real thing. Maybe he didn't deserve it then, lady's man that he was, but he certainly didn't deserve it now. Yet, as always, Harper gave it to him – gave him a huge piece to the puzzle of feeling whole and normal again. He never wanted to be apart from her, he wanted her happiness no matter what that would mean. It wasn't easy to describe the feelings flooding his senses, but he knew instinctively that it was love for her and sheer gratitude that she felt that way for him.
At the same time, they moved in closer, lips connecting. It was warm, simple, wonderful. The kiss was lingering, and closely followed by another peck to her temple. With a fond smile, Bucky said, "C'mon, doll. We'll miss the movie."
"Merry Christmas, Harper," Bucky greeted, placing a kiss on her lips.
"Merry Christmas, James," she reciprocated with a huge grin.
"You look so freaking sexy, doll," he complimented, blue eyes roaming her up and down.
"Stop with the 'S' word!" she waved him off, but he caught the small, satisfied smile turning her lips before she turned away. He had the distinct feeling that she had chosen her outfit with him in mind. Not that she generally dressed to suit his tastes, but perhaps this evening she had wanted to pique his interest. And piqued it certainly was. In true Harper style, she wore a black dress. However, this one was unlike the usual simple shift dresses she wore. Instead, it was a bit more fitted, hugging her in all the right places, but skimming her body in others that he knew made it more comfortable for her to wear with confidence. It had long sleeves with cold shoulder cut-outs, the peek of skin tantalizing. The neckline was square and not especially low, but the shape and the fit of the dress being a bit tighter at the bust framed and accentuated the swell of her breasts and the glimpse of cleavage on display. Her legs were not covered by her usual black tights, but rather by a new pair of black over the knee boots. They were plain and looked like a soft suede material. The heels were several inches high and the material clung to her shapely legs. Her face was neutrally made up aside from the dark purple lip that he had long since realized was her favorite, as well as his.
His eyes were drawn repeatedly back to the four or so inches of bare thigh between the bottom hem of her dress and the tops of the boots. They were so deliciously full and smooth, and he suddenly was hit by thoughts of himself between them, the boots still on. He shivered involuntarily thinking of those heels digging into his backside as an act of encouragement.
Bucky followed Harper into the kitchen, eyes still glued to her as she bent to check on the contents of the oven. "Would you mind not drinking tonight? I just feel like the holidays are really hard without anything to take the edge off, and I'm not sure I can take watching someone else partake when I can't."
"Of course, darlin'," he assured. "You don't need to keep beer or anything here for me."
Harper propped her hip up against the counter and crossed her arms around her middle with a sigh. Looking at the floor, she muttered, "It honestly doesn't usually bother me. I've just been having a hard time lately."
Bucky moved forward, wrapping his arms around her gently. "It's okay, doll. No booze. What can I do to make you feel better?"
Her arms lifted to return his embrace, her fingers bunching up the fabric of his thermal shirt over his back. "You're here, and that's more than enough."
"You sure? What's got you down, darlin'?"
"I just really miss my family," she muttered.
"Harper," he breathed, holding her tighter.
She sniffled before gently pulling away. "I'm gonna take a minute. Can you take the chicken out of the oven, please?"
He nodded agreeably, watching her exit the kitchen and head toward her bedroom. Bucky donned her grey oven mitts and pulled the glass baking dish covered in foil from the oven as she'd requested. The former soldier dragged his fingers through his hair. Five minutes ago he could think of nothing but fucking her, and yet Harper was hurting. How out of touch was he?
Belly full of Harper's cooking and leftovers safely stored away in the refrigerator, the couple settled in the living room. The space was illuminated by a tableside lamp, but mostly by the colorful lights on the small Christmas tree Bucky had insisted on dragging up the stairs and shoddily decorating the weekend prior. Harper's poorly contained joy had made the entire process more than worth it.
"I'm really sorry I started off the evening in such sour spirits," the younger brunette spoke up, crossing one leg over the other. She lifted her apple cider to her lips before sighing, "It's definitely not what I had planned on doing."
"Harper, it's really okay," he assured. "You're allowed to feel that way."
"All the same, I didn't put this outfit together to get all teary and cuddly."
"Oh?" he raised a brow flirtatiously. "What did you put it together for?"
Harper merely grinned at him, looking at him coyly from beneath her eyelashes. Innocently, she asked, "Do you want your present now?"
"Normally, I'd insist that you didn't have to give me anything, but I have a feeling I'm going to thoroughly enjoy this present," he smirked lasciviously.
Harper chortled and stood from her seat, hastening to kneel before the tree. She extracted two boxes neatly wrapped in festive green paper and stood, offering them to him. Bucky accepted them curiously. He knew Harper wouldn't go without giving him something – she was too kind and too giving for that – but he had no idea what she could possibly have come up with to gift him. He wouldn't know what to gift him if he was in her shoes.
Deciding to start with the larger, weightier of the two presents, Bucky slipped a finger beneath the carefully placed seam in the wrapping. He gingerly divested the gift of the paper, and his eyes widened when they saw the item in his hands. It was a thick, leather bound journal. The material was reddish brown, almost mahogany in color. Centered on the front cover was a small metal latching fixture. A subtle, simple border was embossed around the perimeter of the front and back covers, and the spine was clean and sturdy. It was a beautiful piece, and he was touched that she would have gotten him something so useful and unique.
Bucky looked up at the grinning young woman and said earnestly, "Thanks, doll. This is beautiful. I love it."
She ignored his thanks, waving him on to continue. He acquiesced, picking up the smaller, slender box. He followed the same meticulous procedure, carefully folding the removed piece of wrapping paper before placing it on the coffee table. He lifted the lid of the plain, navy box and was even more surprised. Inside, looking like it was straight out of the 1930s, was a black Parker brand fountain pen with gold detailing and a beautiful gold nib. He lifted the pen from the velvet interior of the box, turning it around in his fingers reverently. The surface was smooth and the unit was solid. The details were sparse, but clean and elegant. The nib appeared balanced and in perfect working order.
"Sorry if it's too eccentric," Harper spoke up nervously. "I know it's sort of an odd pick, but it really reminded me of you somehow."
"Darlin' this is amazing! I really love it," he assured with a smile.
"The reservoir is already filled with ink, but when you run out, just let me know. I now know a place you can get more."
"Thank you, doll," he repeated, leaning in and placing a tender kiss on her lips. "These are really thoughtful gifts. I appreciate it."
"I'm glad I didn't go totally wrong," Harper beamed.
"Not at all," he smiled fondly. Setting the gifts down on the coffee table, he realized now was perhaps the more difficult part – giving Harper her gift.
A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm really relieved that the last chatper wasn't too crazy or too garbage. I was definitely nervous when I posted it. Relatedly, I am wondering how folks feel about continued spicy scenes? This story has two more written out, but if that's not what folks want, I can definitely do some editing to gloss over things or otherwise clean some stuff up without altering the plot. It would end up being like... mild spice instead. So yay or nay to spice would be amazing feedback, alongside any other thoughts you may have. Thank you again so much for the continued support.