The timeline of this story does not always magically align with the real world. Christmas in October...why not...or sorry, depending on how you feel about this.
Chapter 16: A Barnes-Rogers Christmas
Two days before Christmas Eve, Steve picked up Bucky's gift from the tailor. He'd taken it to the same one he'd used for his suit at the Espys, and the job was so immaculate that it was impossible to tell the garment had ever looked any different. He also made a grocery store run to get everything on Winnie's crazy long list. The two of them put the food away together, and then Steve retreated to the loft to wrap gifts. Bucky did the same. When they finished, they put everything under the still-somewhat-naked tree.
"Did all your ornaments for me come?" Steve asked.
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah. Want to exchange them and put them up so the tree doesn't look so empty?"
"Sure."
Steve fetched his box of ornaments and joined Bucky on the couch. "Please don't shake this present to try and guess what it is," he said as he handed it over.
"I won't," Bucky promised, chuckling. "I know it's ornaments."
"Who should open theirs first?"
"How about we do it at the same time?"
"Okay."
"One."
"Two."
"Three." Bucky opened the lid and looked down at the contents of the little box. They were all wrapped in tissue paper, as he'd done for his, so he could see nothing more than their shapes. He picked up one and unwrapped it. His mind immediately cast back to their wedding day and that first dance when he saw the little toy soldier. "I love it," he said reverently.
Steve smiled and held up the first of Bucky's gifts: a salt shaker. "I'm glad you like it."
"Do you like yours?"
"I'm disappointed there's no actual salt in it," he laughed. "But yes, I love it."
Bucky unwrapped the next one, and he could tell it was a gingerbread man from the first corner. That would have been great on its own, but it only got better as he unveiled the whole thing. The cookie's left arm had been bitten off. He immediately started laughing. "This is amazing."
Steve's cackle soon joined Bucky's. "Yankee Doodle dressed up as Santa Claus? They really make these?"
"They do."
"This is the dumbest thing I've ever seen, and I love it."
Steve opened his final ornament, a miniature replica of his motorcycle. He smiled warmly. "Now you open your last one," he prompted.
Bucky unwrapped a beautiful white wolf. He immediately fell in love with both its magnificence and the meaning behind it. Careful of the fragile ornaments on the coffee table in front of them, he dove forward and wrapped Steve in a ferocious hug. "Merry Christmas," Steve said in his ear.
"Merry Christmas."
They hung the remaining ornaments together, filling in all the empty spaces on their tree until it glistened from every angle. After the last one went up, they stood back to admire it. Bucky took Steve's hand and dropped his head onto his shoulder. Steve gave his hand a squeeze. "First Christmas as a married couple, how's it looking so far?" he asked.
"Best Christmas ever."
"Agreed."
~0~
Their parents arrived at noon on Christmas Eve. There was a lot of hugging and compliments on how nice the house looked, despite the fact that it looked exactly the same as it had last time they visited. As Bucky pointed out at least once a week or so, those damn scratches remained on the living room wall.
"How's work?" Mom asked him.
"It's going well, but everyone's understandably gloomier at this time of year. It's hard to watch kids wish to go home for Christmas only to find out they can't," Steve explained.
"I'm sure. Adults are the same way, but they're usually even grumpier about it," she said.
Bucky's mom lingered extra long in her hug. "How's your kidney?"
"Doing great. Haven't pissed blood in over a month."
"Always good to hear."
"What time are we aiming to eat? I need to get the ham in the oven at least two hours before then," Joseph announced.
"Seven thirty?" Steve proposed.
"Okay. Plenty of time. You got everything on the list?"
"Yes, Dad. Winnie was very clear." Almost every item on the list even had her preferred brand name.
"Excellent."
"I trust you'll make a great sous chef," Winnie said coyly.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Can I help you carry anything in from the car?" Steve offered.
"No thank you, dear, we've got it covered."
"You guys can fight over who gets the loft. Fair warning, there's an extra chair in the bedroom down here so it's a little crowded."
"We can stay down here," George said. "I'm old enough that I rarely make it through the night without a bathroom break and I'd rather not brave the stairs at midnight."
Bucky noticeably cringed at that comment. Steve laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. Coming from a family with a nurse for a mother, Steve was used to anything and everything being an acceptable topic of conversation, no matter how personal. At least this time it didn't happen at the dinner table.
His mom wandered over to the tree while Dad carried their bags from the car to the upstairs bedroom. "Where did you get all these?" she asked, studying the new ornaments they'd bought.
"Steve and I bought some together," Bucky explained. He pointed out the ones they'd chosen for each other and the ones they'd chosen jointly.
"I think this one has to be my favorite," she said. Steve peered over her shoulder at the toy soldier ornament.
"Steve picked that one out."
"Bucky got me the salt shaker," Steve said.
Mom chuckled. "What he should have done is just stop by our place and stick a hook in one of ours. Now that you've moved out, we don't use all four of them anymore."
"Wait, you seriously have four?" Bucky questioned.
"Two in the kitchen, one that Steve brought to school for lunch, and one I kept in my purse."
"Do you happen to have it in your purse right now?" Steve asked. "Because I could use one to take to work."
She rifled through her purse on the coffee table and produced a travel-sized salt shaker. Steve stowed it away in the kitchen. "Can I get you anything to drink?" he offered.
"No thank you."
Dad and George finished carrying their everything inside and promptly sat down on the couch. Bucky dragged in a few chairs from the kitchen so they'd have enough room for everybody while Steve artfully placed their stack of presents beneath the tree.
"How was the drive up?" Bucky asked.
"Christmas Eve traffic is a bitch," Joseph proclaimed. "We left Brooklyn at a quarter after nine."
"But it was worth it to see you boys," Winnie added. Bucky rolled his eyes. Before he could sit down, his mom demanded another hug. Over her shoulder, he mouthed, "Help me." Steve did no such thing.
"So, what have you been up to since Thanksgiving?" Steve asked.
"You know, the usual," Sarah sighed. "At least the hospital is all decorated for the holidays so it's cheery."
"I actually helped design and decorate ours."
"That's wonderful. Do you have any pictures of it?"
"Yeah." Steve pulled up the album and handed his phone off so she could look through them. When she finished, she handed it off to Winnifred. "I cut so many paper snowflakes, I started to see triangular holes in everything."
"I can imagine. It looks incredible, though. I'm sure the kids love it."
"Those that are old enough not to try and pull things off the walls, yes."
"Is the team doing anything special for the holiday?" George asked.
"Yeah, we had a party last weekend. Coach is giving us off from yesterday until New Year's, with the expectation we'll still work out," Bucky explained.
"Will you be exceeding those expectations?" Winnie asked knowingly.
"Living with Steve I-wake-up-at-six-in-the-morning-to-run Rogers? Definitely."
"In the army, we do more before nine A.M. than most people do all day," Joseph stated.
"Steve is not most people."
"And neither are you," Sarah told Bucky.
"Oh look!" Winnifred cried. "It's snowing!" Sure enough, little white specks drifted down from the sky.
"The forecast said it wasn't supposed to start for another few hours," George said with a glance at his watch.
"George, when is the forecast ever right?" Winnie chided.
"I suppose you're right, dear. It's been ages since we've had a white Christmas."
Naturally, Steve took that as his cue to play the Irving Berlin song of the same name. For the next several hours, they chatted and watched the snow accumulate outside. By the time Joseph and Winnie started preparing dinner, a few inches had stuck to the ground outside. The smell of cooking ham wafted from the kitchen into the living room, later accompanied by half a dozen other wonderful aromas. Steve didn't hate cooking, but he had to admit it smelled (and would probably taste) a lot better without him having to make it.
He and Bucky set the table with the nicest dishes they owned—a standard which, in their house, meant only "not made of plastic." Back at his parents' place, Christmas Eve dinner had meant his grandmother's china that they only brought out for special occasions, but Steve didn't much care. The company mattered more than anything, and he sat at the head of the table surrounded by his parents, in-laws, and husband. Steve couldn't have asked for a better Christmas.
~0~
None of them went to bed until nearly midnight. By then, the snow had piled up at least six inches outside. Steve drifted off with "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" stuck in his head and Bucky's breath against the back of his neck.
The Barnes were the first to awake on Christmas morning. By the time Steve got out of bed, completed his morning monitoring regimen, and wandered into the living room, Bucky's dad already had a fire going in their fireplace. "Hope you don't mind, it was chilly in here," he said.
"Not at all. I think it sets the mood perfectly."
Winnifred was busy making coffee in the kitchen. She poured a healthy dash of eggnog into George's mug before bringing it out to him. "Would you like any?" she asked.
"Sure." He normally started the day with water or juice, or Gatorade if his morning run had been particularly sweaty, but on Christmas morning he found himself in the mood to fill a coffee with so much cream and sugar that it barely tasted like coffee anymore. Winnifred handed him a mug and he poured a frankly unacceptable amount of cream, along with his daily maintenance dose of Miralax. Steve swallowed his morning pills plus enzymes with the first sip of the sugary concoction and sat down on the sofa. Outside, the snow had stopped falling, but had piled up to about eight or nine inches.
His parents were the next ones awake, followed by Bucky wearing his white wolf beanie. Steve snatched it off his head while kissing him good morning. Bucky retaliated by yanking it back and plopping it onto Steve's head so far it covered his eyes. Winnifred offered him his own mug of coffee and, now that everyone else was taken care of, finally sat down with her own.
They flipped on It's a Wonderful Life and gathered around the tree to open presents. Sarah looked so eagerly expectant as Steve began with his gift from her and Joseph. Her excitement made him suspicious. He ripped off all the paper, opened the lid of the box inside, and pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a bright red cardigan. Steve removed it from the box and held it up, studying the cable knit patterns down either side of the central zipper.
"Will you try it on?" Sarah asked pleadingly. "Bucky sent me your measurements but I want to make sure you like the fit."
"Okay." Steve shrugged it on over his tee shirt and zipped it up halfway. It hugged his biceps and chest rather tightly, but not so much that it was uncomfortable. "This is really nice," he said. "It's softer than it looks."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Rogers," Bucky quipped.
"Did you choose this color on purpose?" Steve asked. He should have expected the nickname, given the color and style of the sweater and his own last name.
Sarah suppressed a giggle and nodded. "You always dress so plainly, I thought you could use a pop of color."
Steve took off the cardigan and folded it neatly back into the box. He pushed another box towards Bucky. He shook it gently, listening to the distinct rustle of tissue paper. Eager to see his reaction, Steve watched as he tore through the wrapping and revealed an elegant navy blue jacket with large buttons on the cuffs and down the front. Bucky examined the shoulder seam and the fastenings closely. Steve had made sure the tailor installed magnetic strips to hold it closed at the front and removed the left sleeve as cleanly as possible.
"There's a bit of padding on that side," Steve informed him.
He knew Bucky didn't mind the asymmetrical slope of his shoulders, but when he put on the jacket he said that it sat more comfortably with the padding, especially being a fairly heavy coat. "This is amazing," he continued.
Steve smiled warmly. "I'm so glad you like it."
"This is officially the most stylish thing I own."
"You look very distinguished," Winnifred complimented.
"You guys should open some of your stuff now," Steve encouraged.
Sarah unwrapped a mug that read, "I'm a nurse; I can't fix stupid, but I can sedate it." They all had a good laugh over that. Both Joseph and George received monogrammed Swiss Army knives from their wives. Winnie practically squealed over a new recipe book from George and scrapbooking supplies from Bucky. Steve gifted his parents coasters he'd had made from his own drawings, and Bucky got his dad a lantern for camping or power outages. Bucky's parents had a custom mug made for him with the same saying as his favorite tee shirt: "It cost an arm and a leg but I was able to negotiate." Bucky didn't waste any time making good use of it; he ran to the kitchen to wash it and transferred the remaining third of his coffee into it.
"Open mine now," Bucky insisted, shoving the last box towards Steve. Even though he'd kept his gift to Bucky a secret, he'd apparently had exactly the same idea independently. Steve unwrapped a dark brown leather jacket. "You own a motorcycle; I thought you ought to look the part," Bucky said.
"Thank you. I'm getting the message that I don't dress well enough for you people, is that it?" he asked with a laugh.
"Yes," his mother said matter-of-factly. "Glad we're on the same page."
Steve nodded. "Cool. Does anybody want waffles?" All hands shot up. Steve grabbed Bucky's and hauled him to his feet and into the kitchen so they could get started. Winnie followed them in and offered to help, but Steve banished her back to the living room to watch the rest of the movie. Well, he tried to. She worked around them to set the table while they prepared the batter and dug out the waffle iron.
"I'm washing the dishes," she told them.
"Okay," Bucky agreed without hesitation.
"Okay, he argued," Steve said curtly.
"What? She offered."
"Just get the oil out of the pantry, would you?"
"Fine."
Steve poured the first waffle on as Clarence's vision concluded and George Bailey returned to regular life, the last when the bell rang signifying Clarence earning his wings. Bucky grabbed butter and syrup from the fridge and laid them out on the table as their parents sat down. Though he'd hosted dinners here before, it still felt strange to invite his parents to the table after so many years of the opposite.
"Merry Christmas," his dad toasted.
"Merry Christmas."
~0~
Their parents stayed through Christmas day and most of the following Sunday. If possible, their mothers demanded even longer hugs on the way out than they had on the way in. After they left, Steve and Bucky looked at the tree and wordlessly decided to leave it up at least another week. Having skipped the past three days, Steve itched to move. Since the sidewalks remained completely covered in snow, he elected to work out in the basement instead of outside. Bucky had other ideas. When Steve finished getting ready, he found his husband strapping on boots and a light jacket by the back door.
"Where are you going?" Steve asked.
"Outside."
"To do what?"
"Exercise."
Intrigued, Steve stood by the window to the backyard in the kitchen to learn exactly what exercise Bucky planned to do in eight inches of snow. As soon as Bucky started moving, Steve started laughing. He'd done this exercise plenty of times before, to work on his vertical leap ability for soccer, but tuck jumping looked a lot more like frolicking in the snow than it did on grass. Steve took a video through the window as Bucky jumped around the yard and poked hole after hole in the pristine snowfall. The hardest part was keeping his hand steady through his laughter.
Then, because he knew Josiah would appreciate it, he logged onto the Amputeam Instagram (Bucky had given him the log-in information ages ago) and posted the video with the caption, "This f***ing jackrabbit." By the time it uploaded, Bucky was still going, though sans the jacket. Steve watched the comments flood in. They'd amassed over a dozen of them by the time Bucky came back inside, his boots covered in snow and his forehead slick with sweat.
"Was that fun?" Steve asked him.
"Yeah," he panted. "Makes for a great challenge."
"Was that all you're going to do today? I was just about to work out downstairs."
"I'll join you in a minute. Just gotta warm up and cool down a bit first."
"Sounds good."
He came downstairs ten minutes later, just as Steve finished warming up and transitioned to his first set. "You filmed me?" Bucky's voice echoed down the stairs as he stomped into the basement, phone in hand.
"Yeah. How many likes are you up to?"
"Six fifty. But I look like a total cotton-headed ninnymuggins."
"When did you watch Elf?"
"At the soccer team party."
"Are you mad about the video? I thought it seemed like just the thing Josiah would post. It's funny."
"Yeah, it's pretty funny," Bucky conceded. "I like your caption."
"Thanks."
Josiah texted Steve later that day, "This video was the best xmas present ever!" That night before bed, Steve asked Bucky if he had a good Christmas.
"A good Christmas? It was the best."
"Yeah. It was my first Christmas as a married man."
Bucky poked him in the side. "No way, me too!"
"Was it as magical for you as it was for me?"
"I don't know about that. On my gift to you, I only wrote, 'From: Bucky.' You wrote, 'From: Your adoring husband.'"
"I wanted to make sure you know who it was from."
"And 'Steve' wouldn't have sufficed?"
"You know another Steve."
"You're right, that probably would have been too confusing," Bucky admitted. "I know two Steves, but I only have one husband."
"Who adores you."
"Yeah, I know. I adore you too."
"Enough to pack my lunch for the next week? Since you're off soccer?"
"Hmmm, not that much."
"Jerk."
"Punk."
