fossilised | It's AU time

Bucky let himself be bullied into getting up and pull out the futon, and then to getting his prosthetic off, though he refused to strip down much more than that. He stayed in his long sleeve t-shirt to hide the scars, but he went down to his boxers, and then slipped in beside Steve.

It was more comforting than he thought it would be, hearing someone else breathe next to him and feeling the warm weight of a body against his own. Damn, but he was already falling too far and too fast. That was a problem for another time.

He slept pretty damn well that night, even sleeping through Steve's alarm that told him he had to be up to go into the tattoo studio, and a message from his boss telling him that they were already rammed with idiots wanting tattoos for Christmas. Bucky had somehow shifted onto his stomach in the night, his one arm splayed out over Steve's hips and his legs splayed like a starfish.

Trying to get out from under his bedmate was impossible. Steve squirmed and wriggled and laid still to pant for a long time before he managed to find an escape route. He slipped a pillow under Bucky's leg so it wouldn't rouse him too much and then showered and dressed quickly so he could dash off to work.

He, however, leave a note to his boyfriend (oh god!) reminding him to eat something with a picture of that bounty hunter character eating cereal shaped like bullets.

It was a long day. A very long. A longer than long day. By lunch, Steve had mostly just designed lettering patterns and a rosebud (that looked exactly like the one in the catalogue), and took a break to pee and to check his phone.

If Bucky hasn't texted, he'd ask him for a picture of his smiling face. He missed him.

Bucky hadn't woken up feeling so relaxed in months. Even the fact that his mother was probably out there crying to herself, or that his sister might even now be hunting him down, didn't penetrate his good mood. He had slept well, the bed was still warm from Steve when he woke up, and the whole place just smelled comforting. Like paints and charcoals and Steve.

When he received the request for a picture of his smiling face, he sent back a picture of him holding up a sheet of paper in front of his face on which he had drawn a bad cartoon copy of the smiling emoji.

FROM: Bucky Barnes
TO: Steve Rogers

Better? Work kicking your butt, huh? How many hearts with the word MOM in have you designed today? Such artistic vision! BTW Nat pushed a note under your door saying Christmas dinner is at hers tomorrow. Is that right? Was going to cook you many ball shaped things, but won't if you're going to hers.

Still laughing over the picture when the text came in, Steve cursed a little (it was a quick and soft 'damn.' Nothing too scandalous) and hit the dial button. He didn't have time for a lot of back and forth. There was a giggling girl with a dozen of her friends trying to design a really 'special' tramp stamp with the word Bitch in it, hidden so only she would know what it said, waiting on him.

And Bucky was going to g et an earful as soon as he picked up too.

"I'm sorry, I was blackmailed. She told me I wasn't allowed to argue with her about going to Thor's but I argued anyway and then talked her into having dinner at her place but all cooking had to be done at mine-- I want to spend tomorrow with you. I thought it would be better if we stayed home. Like. We can escape if we need to? Don't be mad!"

"Whoa, whoa-- slow down, Steve, I'm not mad."

Bucky sounded sort of bemused by the sudden torrent of words. It was true, he hadn't been mad, though he had been disappointed. He had told himself that was stupid, though, because he didn't own the monopoly on Steve and it wasn't fair to think that he wouldn't want to spend Christmas with his friends. But the reassurance did help.

"It's-- It means a lot that you reorganised so I could be there, and I can try and go to her place. I'll even help you cook. Maybe not tater tots and meatballs, okay?"

This guy was amazing. He had really tried to include Bucky in his plans, and that made a warmth spread in his chest.

"Whoa let's not go nuts," Steve said in his best scowling voice. "I mean, we need ball shaped items in our diets. I thought you knew me, Buck? I really thought you knew me. If you're going to be my date to this thing, I require the presence of at least two ball shaped items."

And thus he put his foot down, stating that this wasn't up for discussion, that he'd be home in about four hours and that Bucky needn't bother to put his pants on if he didn't want to. That last bit was what caused Steve to hang up quickly, pressing his face against his wrists like he'd just said the most horrible thing ever.

Mickey watched him slump back into his seat, though he perked up when the girls came over, each deciding that they wanted a tattoo and two of them fighting over who was going to get SEXY 'hidden' in the ink.

Steve had his work cut out for him. Especially when none of the girls actually wanted the image the be unreadable. In fact, at the end of his multiple consultations, they all decided on simple lettering with matching hearts and stars as a border.

It was insane. He hoped their mothers never knew.

After participating in the photoshoot for Instagram, he managed to get one meaningful commission, which would end up lasting several sessions, before he collected his tips and headed back out into the cold.

He had some Christmas shopping to do first. Bad idea. Everyone in New York was also doing Christmas shopping and so by the time he got home, he was sniffling and laden with bags and hoping Bucky was upstairs so he could wrap.

Bucky had spent the rest of his day seeing absolutely nobody. He tried to convince himself to go out and get a Christmas present for Steve, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it, so he ended up doing some things around Steve's apartment before heading upstairs to tear through his belongings in search of something he could wrap and present to Steve the next day.

Which meant that he wasn't there when Steve came in.

But the heating was on, there was a plate of cheese balls and bread rolls with a little note that said: AN OFFERING OF BALL SHAPED ITEMS TO APPEASE YOU. But otherwise Steve would be left alone to wrap and fall into bed alone, unless he chose to come up and spend the remainder of Christmas Eve with Bucky.

If not, he'd be woken the next morning by a knocking on his door. Which might just be Natasha and Thor in the world's most hideous Christmas sweaters.

Though Steve didn't go upstairs to spend time with Bucky, he did text him most of the evening before falling asleep with his phone on his pillow, mid text. He didn't wake up until the insistent pounding on his front door shook him from his dreams. He was groggy and in his eagle sweater when he pulled open the door and immediately lifted a hand over his eyes. "Holy crap you guys! It's so bright! Aah!"

The pair at the door were grinning and Thor had a small tree and some presents in his arms, a stupidly pleasant grin on his face. "Your boyfriend is also here?" he asked and Steve blinked at Natalia and her big mouth. She just grinned and shoved a cookie into his mouth.

It was awful. She was not a baker. "Nat! Jeez! These are-- how are these so salty?! Bucky is upstairs! Go torture him!"

"There is little need," said a voice from behind the pair, Loren visible only once Thor had moved out of the way. He had managed to avoid the terrible sweater competition, though he did carry a small pile of presents, and a look in his eyes that warned Steve not to mention to Thor anything about his boyfriend. He had no idea that Steve had already told Natalia. "He is here now."

"Observant."

Bucky poked his head around the door, a smile at his lips but a slightly tense set to his shoulders that said this many people wasn't relaxing. He wore a nice blue shirt and dress pants, because his Ma had always taught him to dress up for Christmas, and carried a little bag in his real hand.

"Looks like the party started early, huh?"

"What time is it?" Steve asked, rubbing his eyes as he looked around at his friends. And the boyfriend of one of his friends. And his brother. What a really weird day. He held that horrible cookie in one hand and then stood back to let everyone in.

It was a good thing that he was clean. Everything was near in his apartment, minus his bedroom. He'd left the futon unfolded, left wrapping papers scraps all over the place, and left his sheets a terrible mess. He was a bit of a mess too.

His hair was everywhere. His sweater was pulled down over one shoulder. He was in his boxers--

Thor glanced at his phone (how?! His hands were so full!) and mentioned that it was just after ten.

"In the morning? Seriously? You guys...!" It was a good thing that Bucky was here. "Well Merry Christmas-- Thor, put that down wherever you want. Loren, is your friend? Is he coming?"

Loren smiled in a way that might seem easy and bright to anyone else, his response perfectly pleasant, but there was a warning behind his eyes. For he had not only not told Thor that he was gay and had a boyfriend, but he might have had a short but vicious argument with Tony about their Christmas arrangements the night before.

"I have many friends, but I am certain all of them have their own plans this day. Perhaps you would do well to put on some trousers?"

Bucky skirted around the throng of people and wound his arm around Steve's shoulders, the little bag bumping against Steve's chest where it was still clenched in his hand, not at all ashamed of their new status as possible-sort-of-boyfriends.

"You know what, maybe that's a good idea. C'mon, Steve, I'll help you pick out something to wear."

Steve took the bag before Bucky crushed whatever was inside of it and scooted out from under his arm to hug Natalia tightly and whisper in her ear that the party was supposed to be at her apartment, not his. "How about I pick something out myself to wear. Bucky can stay here to help me with packages and we'll be right over?"

Tutor laughed in what could only be described as Mightily. "Had Loren any true friends, they would surely be welcome, but yes, let us return to your couch and discuss a new Christmas tradition of wearing undergarments only to dinner!" His accent was already thick enough to make Steve believe that they had already broken into the egg nog.

Good. That would make for a fun breakfast at least!

He ushered all three into the hallway as Thor told Loren that he surely jested, knew his brother was capable of friendship, just that he was more happy being alone so he ought to stop glaring. Steve shut the door behind them before grinning over his shoulder at Bucky.

"I think Loren's in the closet!"

Loren bickered with Thor that his idea of friendship was meeting someone over beer and immediately becoming the best of friends, and that he had a slightly more discerning and sensible view of friendship. But he allowed himself to be ushered along with his brother and his brother's girlfriend, who had hugged Steve back tightly and told him to hurry up because she wanted her present.

Left alone, Bucky grinned at Steve and plucked the bag right up again from wherever Steve had put it, giving him a mock scowl.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to snatch your presents before you're given them?"

It was a stupid present, just one of his old things, but hopefully Steve would understand and not mind all the same.

"And if he's in the closet, then he must have a reason why. Maybe Thor isn't big on same sex couples, but he's too polite to say it around us?"

"Nat's set me up with two of Thor's male friends, one of which he made sure to explain to me he'd slept with before and could be very gentle," Steve said, dismissing that particular claim. "Loren's always been really private but... I don't know. Sometimes people just like to keep it in. I imagine he has one of those 'no one's business mentalities? He's always really quiet."

He watched as Bucky moved closer to him, taking back that bag, and he stepped back bodily himself, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Morning breath. I'm going to take a shower. And we are both going to have something to eat before we are force fed cookies that taste like they are full of salt and pot." Steve tried not to do drugs. Sometimes Nat just happened to slip them in sometimes.

He should probably be more mad about that.

"Did I tell you yet that you have the weirdest friends?"

It wasn't a judgemental tease, just kind of incredulous that somehow he had found himself spending Christmas day with his new boyfriend and a bunch of people who sounded legitimately insane. He moved to sit on the couch, dress shirt bunching up a bit at his waist where he had obviously tucked it into his pants one handed.

"Okay, go shower, and I'll try and find any presents with my name on them to guess what they are before you get out."

He sort of hoped that Steve hadn't got him anything, then the pathetic offering he had in return wouldn't seem so shit in comparison.

"Don't be disappointed when you don't find any," Steve called from the bathroom. "Santa told me you were bad this year. Something about knocking grandmothers down stairs and kicking puppies?" He was already undressed and the shower started just before Bucky could answer him.

At least he took very brief showers. Bundled up in a towel, he slipped down the hall to his bedroom.

If Bucky really was there poking through the packages on the bed, each one covered in brown paper bags and art work, he'd find one very large box with his name on it.

How Steve got anything that big up the steps and then had time to wrap it and draw all over it was a question for another time because there was soon to be a dripping wet blond tapping a foot at him.

Bucky had indeed made it into Steve's bedroom and found the large package with his name on it, a little touched and a little nervous. Shit. Maybe he could pretend that Steve had another present coming in the mail? He might have panicked more, but he was sort of caught up in how pretty the art on the box was.

"Uh..."

His head snapped up when all of a sudden he became aware of a blond scowling at him from the end of the bed, leaving him to push the box behind him and give the world's least convincing innocent smile.

"Hey, Steve. I wasn't looking at the presents, I was just-- checking for mice."

"Mice huh? And did you find any mice?" A little smile touched his eyes even as he cleared his throat to keep from laughing. His whole body was actually shaking right now with amusement, but the bulk of the towel he had pulled around his ankles obscured that.

It did not really obscure anything from mid thigh down though. Leave it to Steve Rogers not to wrap a towel around his waist like most men. No, he kept his shoulders and chest covered. It was the warmest way to get from point A to B.

"And think very carefully before you answer or I'm sending your present back."

He'd worked the hardest on Bucky's gift. The comic would read better once it was unwrapped and folded together into a book.

It was alright to hate him for being so creative.

Bucky didn't hate him for being creative, but he might hate him just a bit for showing all that pale leg when he couldn't touch it yet. Not properly, not like he wanted to. He could feel the sight of it go straight to an inappropriate place, so he deliberately looked down at his feet like a chastised child to keep himself from making any kind of comment. Or just jumping him.

"Hey-- that's no way to treat a guy who just risked his life to protect your presents from mice, is it? C'mon, you can let me have it, right? I can open it now, I don't have to do the joint opening thing next door."

He glanced up, dark blue behind black lashes, and smiled.

"Please?"

"Well. That's good. I was going to have to get Thor to carry it," Steve said, rubbing his hand across his chin. Not that he had anything there. Not even stubble, thanks to a quick shave in the shower. "I guess. Okay go ahead. I hate to see you pout."

Steve went into his wardrobe to grab some black jeans, but he'd wait for Bucky to leave before he dressed. He laid out some fresh underwear and a deep blue sweater to wear. He'd put a white collared shirt under that.

Once Bucky, hopefully carefully, unwrapped his gift, he'd find a few different boxes attached to each other with duct tape. Inside that makeshift box was lots of newspaper filler. Bucky's actual present was quite smile and wrapped in a second box with a watercolor on canvas double sided tape stuck to the front side.

And inside that?

It was a scarf, black and red, of the softest cashmere. Steve hadn't had a lot of time to shop and Bucky didn't really leave the house enough to use it but that wasn't the point. There was an embroidered plate of meatballs and spaghetti on one end.

Their balls joke had gone too far probably.

Bucky struggled a bit with the unwrapping, harder than it should be with just one hand to scrabble at the paper, but he managed it after a bit by clamping the boxes between his knees and ripping. It was half amusing and half annoying when even more boxes were inside that, though he was careful with the watercolour to not rip it. But then when he revealed the scarf--

He just started to laugh, immediately winding the soft material around his neck.

"You punk, this is amazing." Seriously, he hadn't even known spaghetti and meatball themed scarves were a thing, and now he was wearing one. "Seriously, thank you, this is wonderful."

He leaned forward to press a kiss to Steve's lips, light but sincere, and then handed over his own bag.

"...it's not much, just something of mine, but I thought you might like them."

Inside was an unwrapped little box, which contained two slightly tarnished dog tags on a metal chain, inscribed:
BARNES
JAMES B.
543 43 6938
O NEG
NO PREFERENCE

"You can't give me these." Steve didn't make a comment on anything else so far. He had helped with Bucky folding the wrapping paper properly so he could read his comic and he'd laughed at his reaction about the scarf, but otherwise, he was much too interested in the gift he had been presented with to say anything.

He held the tags like they were made of glass, like they were beyond precious, and he pulled them close to his chest to look up at Bucky as if he'd gone crazy.

"You really can't-- these are-- Buck, I can't." He had his father's in a velvet lined shadow box. He knew what they meant to soldiers. "Even if you just really wanted me to know that I can count on your for a blood transfusion, you can't just give me something so important!"

He could remember stumbling out of that horrible place with only the dog tags to his name, and the weight of them had both felt like a comfort and a millstone around his neck. He hadn't worn them since his discharge, but they were the only thing of value that he owned other than his medals. He would have given Steve those, but he had a feeling he'd be even less likely to accept medals than dog tags.

"Hey... who said you were getting any of my blood, huh?"

He reached out and gently took the tags from Steve to loop the chain over Steve's neck and let them fall against that slender chest. It did hurt to give them away, and maybe Steve wouldn't like to be wearing something that had scratches all over them and slight traces of blood stains in the grooves, but he wanted Steve to wear them.

"You're important to me. God knows it's fast and probably stupid, but you are. I can't help that. So accept the stupid tags, they're just-- they're just bits of metal. I mean... they won't even keep your neck warm like my present will."

He's going to be the one, Steve's hormonal brain told him as he stood there, touching the metal with well trimmed and slender fingers, letting the towel fall to expose his shoulders and chest to feel them against his skin. Bucky didn't need to know just yet that Steve's mind and his body just had a mini meeting about who would take their virginity, though. And he didn't need to, not until just before it happened.

"It's not fast," Steve blurted out to try to catch and explain his silence. "It's just that sometimes you know. And I know," he expressed, which sounded more than a little bit forward. Or like he was spilling out more affection than he should.

It was true, though. Princes always knew in fairy tales when they met the loves of their lives. And sure. Reality wasn't like a fairy tale but he couldn't shake the feeling that this much was true. Love at first sight might have bypassed him to land on love after a few months, but it was close enough.

Steve held onto his towel with one hand and Bucky with the other.

"Then I'm honored to wear them. And I still demand your blood if I ever turn into a vampire or need a transfusion. No backsies."

If he did know about that mini meeting, he might well have thrown some kind of party because God if Steve didn't look so sexy stood there with his chest exposed and Bucky's dog tags gleaming against the pale skin. He just wanted to lean forward and lick him, but that probably wouldn't go down well.

He cleared his throat and reached up to smooth his fingers through damp blond hair, before stepping away and towards the door.

"Get dressed, and maybe clean your ears out because I already said you ain't getting any of my blood. I don't care what type you are, my blood stays in my body."

That went better than expected, Steve hadn't seemed disappointed by a gift that hadn't been store bought, so he was smiling when he left Steve to dress and instead sat on his boyfriend's couch.

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