Summary: Steve likes the holidays. Maybe a little too much?
Bucky's noticed this for a while now, but he doesn't really say anything because he hardly minds and it's Steve so does it really matter? Nat and Clint think it's weird, but they're his friends and it's kinda obligatory for them to think everything is weird when it involves Bucky. He can't exactly ask Steve, because that would be embarrassing and he's not really sure how to start that conversation. So the best person to ask would probably be Sam, right? Right?
"I really don't think it's that big of a deal," Sam says as he takes a sip of his gingerbread latte. Because really, gingerbread latte Sam really?
Bucky drums his fingers against the side of his own coffee cup. "I don't know I mean… do you think it's normal?"
"Sure. Can't a guy be crazy about the holidays?"
"Hey believe me, I have nothing against holidays and that sort, but it seems like he goes—"
"Over the top sometimes?"
"Yes. And then he—"
"Goes crazy until the whole apartment looks like glitter galore?"
Bucky blinks at him. "Yeah. Pretty much." He kinda forgets how much of a people person Sam is and how good he is at reading people.
Sam cocks his head to the side and rolls his lips a little. "Maybe it's a withdrawal kinda thing?"
"How so?" Bucky asks.
"Like, did Steve ever celebrate holidays as a kid?"
"Yeah, I'm sure—" He's almost about to say yes when he stops mid-sentence. Sam may have a point. Did Steve ever celebrate the holidays? Bucky's not entirely sure about Steve's childhood as a whole, it's just one of the many things he chooses to keep private.
The thing is, it's not just Thanksgiving or Christmas that's got Steve going crazy with the decorations and knickknacks and what not.
It's every single holiday.
When they celebrated their first Valentine's Day together, Bucky's bed was drowning in rose petals and too much candle wax. During Easter, Steve bought him every type of chocolate, toy bunny and easter egg imaginable and wrapped it all up in one huge basket. Steve's apartment was so pink that Bucky almost wanted to barf. On Halloween, Steve's apartment was overflowing with pumpkins and witches and maybe three fog machines? Five if Bucky was really keeping count and not focusing on, well, Steve's costume. Complete with.. well.. you know. He doesn't think he has to go into THAT much detail. The same went for Thanksgiving (the decorating NOT THE COSTUME), and now freakin Christmas. Didn't Thanksgiving just end three days ago?
"Have you ever asked him?" Sam asks quietly once he takes in the look on Bucky's face.
"No, not really no," Bucky answers just as quietly and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Was it bad that he never asked Steve about it? He figured it was just a personality thing, just Steve being Steve and giving it his all like he did with everything else. This is probably worse than when Natasha alluded him to the whole glasses thing [flashback to chapter 10]. He starts fiddling with the paper sleeve around his cup until it looks like Thor chewed right through it. And boy can that dog chew.
"Bucky? Hey, Bucky?" Sam reaches a hand out to stop Bucky from tearing the paper any more. "Hey, look it's not a big deal. I'm sure if you ask Steve about it—"
"But what if he doesn't want to talk about it?" Bucky looks up with a nervous expression.
Sam's features soften out and he smiles a little. "Then he doesn't want to talk about it. True, not everyone likes to talk about their feelings and talking isn't always everyone's favorite solution, but from what you've told me about Steve, I'm sure he'd be up for it."
"And if he's not?"
"Then he's not. And it has nothing to do with you, it has to do with him and how comfortable he is with revealing that information. I mean you don't tell Steve everything about yourself, right?"
Bucky nods slowly. "Right."
"And you don't tell him everything because you hate him and he's not trustworthy right?"
Bucky sits up straighter. "No, of course not. I trust Steve with everything, it's just sometimes I'm not okay with telling him certain things."
Sam smiles and sits back in his chair. "See! There you go. So you have nothing to worry about."
Is it really just that simple? Bucky's about to go back to ripping up his paper sleeve when Sam gives him this look and he shrinks in on himself, like a dog getting caught when its owner comes home to a glorious mess.
"Just try it. You'd be surprised by how much you can get done."
Bucky makes some type of noise of agreement, but it comes out as more of a half-hearted grunt. Apparently this is enough for Sam because he laughs and reaches over to pat Bucky on the shoulder.
"You make it sound so easy," Bucky mumbles.
"Of course I do. As your friend, I'm supposed to." He goes back to sipping his stupid gingerbread latte. "I'm gonna go buy a cake pop and score some points with the girl at the counter. You want anything?"
Bucky shakes his head as Sam rises up from his seat to make his way over. "I have to warn you though, I think she has a girlfriend," Bucky mutters just loud enough for Sam to hear.
Sam does hear because he ends up stumbling into one of the chairs and making the barista girl giggle behind her hand. Bucky counts that as his win of the day and sips his coffee in smug triumph.
"Do I wanna know?" Phil sighs as he dumps the contents his dustpan into the trash can by Bucky's table.
"Nope," Bucky pops the 'p'. He smirks as he watches Sam stutter his way through an order and tries his hardest not to blush under the pressure.
Phil raises an eyebrow and follows Bucky's line of sight. "Is Sam trying to flirt with another one of my grunts?" He huffs in exasperation.
"Probably. Although I told him she was into girls." This gets another eyebrow raise from Phil. "Just some good old-fashioned revenge. Nothing more, I swear." He puts his hands up when he sees Phil is still giving him that look.
"Uh-huh." He empties out the rest of his dustpan. "Actually, it's not that she swings that way. It's just that she's pansexual."
"Oh?" Bucky's own eyebrows shoot up. Now he's trying to think of more ways to taunt Sam.
"Yeah, so tell your boy to be careful there."
Bucky snorts and waves him off. "Please, he's not my boy, and he can handle himself just fine."
Phil smacks his fist onto the palm of his hand. "Oh right! The guy who's chiseled out like a Greek god. That's your boy."
Bucky goes so red Phil's almost certain he has to call a paramedic. "He's… not my boy either."
"Really? Cause last I heard, you were doing the—"
"Shaddup Coulson."
"Try me." Phil sticks a tongue out and passes Sam on the way. He claps him own the shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look.
Sam throws his hands up into the air and scowls at the ceiling and basically curses God for his bad luck. Bucky decides to hold off on telling him about the pansexuality thing.
"Hey Stevie, have you seen my—" Bucky stops short upon coming into the living room. He's supposed to meet up with Nat and Clint in an hour and he can't find his extra shirt which he knows he definitely left at Steve's. He may just have to borrow another one of Steve's shirts again.
"Hmm? Have I seen your what Bucky?" Steve looks up from his perch on the floor. He's sitting pretzel-style, his hair all mussed up from his hands running through it and he's got a pile of Christmas lights in his lap. He's trying to unscrew and change out all the broken bulbs for new ones.
Bucky's not sure how long he's been at it. He was kinda preoccupied with the cupcakes Steve had requested him to make for, surprise! Christmas, which again, Thanksgiving just ended three days ago. Bucky's almost done, just has to make the peppermint flavored icing and sprinkle some crushed candy canes on top for the finishing touches.
Steve would do it himself, but he's obviously got his hands full of broken lights and piles of Christmas decorations surrounding him on the floor. Bucky's almost afraid he might drown in the decorations, and the place smells way too much like cinnamon and holly.
Bucky points a finger at the mess. "Uh, babe, what's all of this?"
"This? Uh, oh! It's uh, well…" Steve grunts as he pushes himself up. He rubs his neck and looks around sheepishly. "It's uh, well… they're Christmas decorations."
"I think I can see that Stevie. I mean what's with the mess?" Bucky smiles at Steve's floundering, trying to come up with a suitable response.
"Um, well okay, they're for—" He continues spluttering out half-answers until he blushes and tries to look anywhere but Bucky. "I'm not getting out of this one am I?"
"Probably not," Bucky shrugs. He notices a toy reindeer on the mantle and squeezes the nose, watching it come to life and dance to the music playing out.
Steve grins at the toy and walks over to the mantle. "Got it at a yard sale. Kinda cute right?" He murmurs.
Bucky hums in response and takes a look around the room. Aside from the mess on the floor, Steve has done a nice job with the place, even if it does look like St. Nick threw up everywhere. There's tinsel wrapping around the legs of each piece of furniture, toy presents sitting on top of the TV, snowflakes on the windows, and a candle on every surface imaginable. That would explain the cinnamon and holly smell.
"Too much?"
Bucky's eyes shift back towards Steve to see a slight grimace on his face. He looks nervous, like he's not sure if this is okay or not. It's like he's waiting for Bucky's approval or something.
Bucky closes the distance between them and slips both his hands into Steve's much larger ones. "I think it's great, seriously. The place looks awesome. But I do have to ask…" He watches Steve's face change into a tighter grimace. "It's nothing bad," he quickly reassures, "Trust me, it's not. But I gotta know Stevie: is this a thing? Like are you actually holiday crazy or is this something more?"
Steve's face almost shuts down at that and now Bucky's really afraid he's screwed up. He knows he says that a lot, but this time he seriously thinks he's screwed up and Steve hates him forever and never wants to see his sorry mug again. He knew he shouldn't have opened his mouth. Screw Sam's advice, even if he is always right.
Bucky starts to pull his hands away but Steve tightens his grasp around them.
"Please, just—give me a chance to explain."
Bucky takes a deep breath in. "Okay," he breathes out.
"It's just, well, um…" Steve sighs and ruffles his hair for what looks like the bajillionth time today. "Okay, take your family for example. You guys celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas and all those other random holidays of the year, right?"
Bucky nods slowly. He's not sure where Steve is going with this, but he has an idea.
"Right. Which is what normal families do and what not. But I never really got to.. have that." He looks down and bites his lip. "My holidays were more along the lines of 'let's hope to avoid another trip to the hospital before Steve keels over from an allergic reaction to grass.' And so holidays weren't exactly a—a thing. At my house."
Bucky stares at Steve, watching him shift from to foot and a blush slowly starting to spread over his features. Finally Bucky opens his mouth, and it's like the most dramatic moment ever when he comes out with a "You were allergic to grass?"
It takes a moment to react, but it only takes a second for Steve to shove Bucky playfully and watch him fall all over himself. Steve actually smiles at Bucky laughing and holding onto his stomach for dear life. He takes a couple breathers before pulling himself together and smiling at Steve. "Okay, forget what just happened. I shouldn't be laughing at your physical incapabilities—"
Steve rolls his eyes at that.
"—Shut up, I'm actually trying to say something meaningful here. Anyways, you were allergic to grass (Bucky tries not to snort), end of story. But you should have just told me about the being-too-sick-to-celebrate thing. I would've gotten it." And it would have saved me the worry, he doesn't add.
A small smile breaks out across Steve's face and his features relax a little. "I know, I know. I don't know if you've noticed, but I like to go out all for the holidays. Always have, ever since I moved out and started living on my own. But now that I actually get to share the holidays with someone, and not just anyone, well just that makes me want to go all the more crazier."
Going crazy for the holidays because you were a sickly kid makes sense. Add the 'I love you and I get to share these special moments with you' part to the equation and you've got a very red Bucky who's gaping like an awkward fish. Somehow, ever since Steve came into his life he's been experiencing more moments like these, where he'll freeze up with absolutely no idea what to say and his heart will pound like crazy and he'll get that stupid butterfly feeling. He's not sappy, really, but Steve makes him feel sappy and if Nat ever found out he would have to kill her. Clint too maybe.
Bucky heaves a big sigh and clears his throat in an act of avoiding Steve's gaze. "I… I don't know what to say," he huffs out.
"Say you love me despite my crazy holiday tendencies and you'll never leave me," Steve says.
Bucky rolls his eyes, but deep down he's getting that butterfly feeling again. If Steve doesn't want Bucky to leave him, that means he actually wants Bucky around for.. God knows how long, but it's longer than Bucky ever expected. But of course Bucky could be taking it all the wrong way and over-analyzing everything like he usually does and—
"Bucky." When he looks up Steve's eyes widen at the expression on his face. "Wait you—oh crap. I'm so sorry that totally sounded weird didn't it. I think I just scared you off I'm so sorry it was supposed to be a joke I didn't mean for you to—" Steve's making all sorts of hand gestures to make up for his lack of words.
Bucky holds both of Steve's arms. "Steve, Steve, relax okay buddy? It's—it's fine. Really, just don't worry about it okay?"
Steve looks like he has more words caught in his throat, but he huffs out a breath and nods shakily. "Okay, okay yeah. I—sorry."
"It's fine."
"Okay. Good."
"Good."
Bucky releases Steve's arms and they stare at each other, neither one knowing what to say until Bucky clears his throat and points to the lights on the ground. "So, we should maybe get back to that ya?"
Steve twists his back around to look at the forgotten lights and groans. "Actually, can I just help you with the cupcakes instead?"
"You want me to stay?" Bucky immediately clamps his mouth shut. He didn't mean for that to come out. Weren't they just talking about cupcakes?
Steve blinks a couple times and scratches his head. "I mean… well.. yeah, I—I'd like for you. To stay. Um, I mean, not forever of course I think you'd get sick of me eventually but—yeah. As of now, now would be nice."
Bucky is once again caught off guard. Steve is looking at him nervously and he should really say something shouldn't he?
He opens his mouth just in time to smell smoke wafting into the room.
"CRAP!" He scrambles over to the kitchen. "STEVE, WHERE'S YOUR GODDAM FIRE EXTINGUISHER?!"
"Uh, um, wait just—hold on!" Steve flails and panics as he searches the apartment for that goddam fire extinguisher.
In the end the muffins are saved, and Bucky is secretly happy about how things turned out. Even if the muffins were a little singed and Steve is one of those holiday-crazy-junkies and Bucky just kinda loves him more for that. If anything, he wants to stay around a lot longer than necessary.
He thinks Steve gets it, even without the words spoken between them.