Chapter Text
All of Me
How do you tell your best friend you love them?
That’s the question rolling around in Steve’s mind. He watches the boy he knew and the man he knows now. Bucky is a combination of what was and what is, and Steve’s enamored by all of what he sees. Today, two weeks before Christmas, Bucky is in the kitchen with Clint and Bruce making cookies. They were determined to make old-fashioned sugar cookies to roll out and ice after baking.
Steve is watching from the comfort of a chair in the common room. He watches the way Bucky moves around the space, organizing everything. He watches how Bucky’s body moves differently, quiet in a calculated way. He takes in the definition of muscles and the guarded smile.
On his lap is a pad and in his hand is a pencil, but all Steve seems to be able to draw is Bucky. “You sure you don’t want to come help, Cap?”
Steve cuts his eyes down to the pad, then acts like he hasn’t been watching his best friend by looking back up with a smile. “I’m not getting into that mess. Isn’t there a saying about too many cooks in the kitchen?”
Clint laughs, turning back to his two friends in the kitchen. “As long as they do what I tell them, we should get through this okay.”
Bucky grins in the cheeky way he has, throwing a dish towel at Clint. “I’m the oldest here, and that includes Steve, so I should be in charge.”
Bruce smirks. “As I hear it, you boiled everything, so you are definitely not in charge of this.”
They continue to bicker, while making the cookies, and Steve just sighs and continues his drawing, forcing himself to add Clint and Bruce to the sketch. As the three men are rolling out the dough, Natasha slides onto the arm of the chair, looking down at the sketch. “You’re good, Rogers.”
He looks up, smiling at his friend. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” She doesn’t add any other commentary, and Steve doesn’t volunteer his musings from earlier. He trusts Natasha completely, but she would take it as a challenge and make Steve do something he’s not comfortable with.
What Steve would like to say to her is that he’s only carried a torch for one person for over a hundred years. No matter what anyone believes they know about him and his limited love life. With each passing day, that torch has gotten brighter and brighter. Hell, if Steve’s honest with himself, that torch is a raging inferno now. Those are things he’d like to say, but won’t.
An idea comes to him a few days later when he’s scrolling through gifts to buy for his friends. It’s an ad, to the side of the screen, showing ideas for Secret Santa. When he asks JARVIS what a Secret Santa is, the explanation has him pausing. As he checks out the ideas being advertised, it comes together in a well-organized plan in Steve’s head. If he starts on the 20th, he can give Bucky a gift a day until Christmas Eve. Smiling to himself, Steve starts looking around, online, and adding things to his list.
December 20th
Bucky’s apartment is on the same floor as Steve’s. They don’t share because Bucky insists that he doesn’t want to wake Steve when he has nightmares. Steve hates it. He’d willingly crawl into Bucky’s bed to soothe him every night if needed. Again, Steve’s aware that he’d crawl into Bucky’s bed every night even if there wasn’t a nightmare.
Shaking that thought off, Steve heads out for his run, dropping the gift at the front desk to be delivered later. As he walks from the building, he taps his earpiece. “JARVIS, make sure they don’t tell Bucky who it’s from.”
‘It will be my pleasure to help you keep this secret, Captain.’
Bucky wakes a few hours later, checking the time and heading to the shower. He hasn’t received a message from Steve this morning, which is strange. He usually has some kind of communication every morning. A thought strikes him, so he rinses his hair, then washes the rest of himself quickly. After drying off and throwing on some clothes, he heads to the common room.
He finds Natasha sitting by the window, reading a file. She doesn’t look up when he comes in, but Bucky knows that she’s aware of his presence. “Hey, was there a mission?”
She does look up, furrowing her forehead. “No...why do you ask?”
“I get a message from Steve every morning and I didn’t this morning, so I thought he might have left on a mission.” Something in her face changes, like she’s interrogating him with her mind. “What?”
Then, he knows he’s in trouble because that slow, sly grin creeps across her face. “So, you can’t start your day without words from Steve?”
“Widow, seriously, you’re wrong about what you’re thinking. He’s my best friend and always has been.” Nodding, she goes back to her file.
“There wasn’t a mission. He must have forgotten.” When she looks up through her lashes, Natasha could swear that Barnes looks hurt.
Before Barnes returned, she used to try to fix Steve up. It was only after months of him begging off every attempt that she realized that he had someone else in mind. Until now, she believed that someone to be Peggy Carter. However, she’s now thinking that isn’t the case. And if the hurt look was anything to go by, Barnes has some pent up feelings too.
The elevator dings, admitting Bruce. “Hey Bucky, this was left at the desk downstairs for you.”
Tony comes out of the elevator, trailing behind Bruce. “What’s up with the gift, Barnicle?”
Bruce hands it over, pointing at the tag. “Seems you have an admirer.”
On the tag are the words, ‘Open on December 20.’ A second tag reads, ‘From your Secret Santa.’
Sitting on the sofa, Bucky works the gift open. Inside is a shirt box. When he lifts the lid, he starts to chuckle. “Well, someone understands me.” On the front of the shirt is a black cat wearing a Santa hat. The cat is wrapped in colored lights with the caption, ‘Is this jolly enough?’ It wouldn’t be so funny except the cat looks like he’s going to murder someone. Holding it up, so everyone can see, their laughter ringing around the room.
Natasha gets up, helping Bucky pull his t-shirt over his head. “You have to wear this all the time.”
When Steve gets back, he comments on the shirt, chuckling. Natasha is watching him closely and thinks she’s figured out what’s happening, but is going to wait a day or so to be sure.
December 21st
Bucky questioned Steve about the lack of a text message at dinner the night before, so before Steve leaves his floor, he sends a text to his friend. In the elevator he leans against the wall, taking deep breaths. ‘Sir, might I inquire about your well-being.’
Steve stands up straight, looking down at the gift bag he’s carrying. “I’m good, JARVIS. Just like yesterday, make sure no one tells Bucky about this.”
‘Very good, sir.’
As Steve listens to his music, feet pounding against the pavement, he hopes the gift today is as well received as the one yesterday.
Bucky wakes to the ding of his phone. Rolling over, he smiles down at the text. ‘See you at breakfast. Hope you slept well.’
Looking down at his shirt, Bucky chuckles. He’ll throw the shirt in the wash after his shower. When he reaches the common room kitchen, there’s a gift bag on the counter. Natasha is sipping coffee and combing through another file. “Seems your Secret Santa isn’t stopping with just one. That was downstairs this morning.”
Pulling the tissue paper from the bag, Bucky pauses, then pulls the clothing out. “What the hell is this?”
Natasha, who’s watching intently, snorts into her cup. “That, Barnes, is a reindeer onsie.” Looking up confused, Bucky holds the thing up, trying to decipher what he’s seeing. “It’s like pajamas, just with a hood.”
“Well, I’m not wearing this.” He starts to slap it on the counter, when Natasha interrupts.
“I have a cat one. I'll wear mine if you wear yours. We can wear them together while we make more cookies today.” Bucky takes a minute to think it over, then nods.
“Fine, but only because it’s going to get me some of your cookies.”
Steve finds them in the kitchen later, quietly talking. “I told you it would be comfortable.”
“Don’t ever tell anyone that I said this, but I could get used to wearing this.” She laughs, then turns, seeing Steve.
“Steve! Look what Bucky’s Secret Santa gave him today.” Bucky turns embarrassed.
Steve grins. “I think that’s amazing and it looks warm.”
He sees Bucky’s left hand opening and closing, knowing that he’s uncomfortable. Then Bucky rolls his eyes. “Fine, it’s really warm and fuzzy. I like it.” Steve wants to go over, enveloping his friend in a hug and telling him that he’s adorable with the antlers on his head from the hood. He doesn’t because that would be crossing the line.
December 22nd
The next morning, Steve made sure to leave the gift outside Bucky’s door before he went out to run. Sitting it against the wall, Steve conferred with JARVIS and has the AI scrub the video, so Bucky can’t check the system. Today’s gift is a little different, and Steve doesn’t want Bucky opening it with anyone else around.
Crawling out of bed, Bucky throws on clothes and heads upstairs. He’s got his morning text from Steve, and someone is giving him a little surprise every day. He suspects they work in the building, but can’t be sure. It just seems logical.
When he opens the door, there’s a small box. It’s wrapped just as neatly with a tag that says, ‘open on December 22.’ For the first time, there’s a note inside the box. Before reading it, Bucky asks JARVIS who left it and gets an unusual response. ‘Sargeant Barnes, that footage has been scrubbed from my system.’
Meticulously, Bucky goes through the list of people that have enough knowledge about JARVIS to be able to scrub footage. Coming up with three people, he’s inclined to mark all of them off his mental list because none of them care about him enough to do something this nice. Finally, he opens the note.
‘I know this all seems strange, but someone like you deserves good things. You’ve been through too much, and I, for one, think you should get to relax and have something fun to look forward to.’
Pushing the paper to the side, Bucky finds a music box. Turning it over, he winds it up, then opens the top. It’s an upbeat tune, making Bucky think it’s something modern, then it stirs up a memory. Bucky remembers this song from 1931. He spends the day cooking, straightening up, and washing clothes, all while humming All of Me.
December 23rd
‘We all come from stardust, and your light shines brighter than anyone else.’ Bucky just stares at the card for several seconds. Tearing the paper away from what appears to be a painting, instead he finds a framed picture of stars, specifically constellations. He used to know the constellations by heart. He used to tell Steve all the stories that went along with the constellations. It almost has tears welling up in his eyes.
When he looks closer, he’s stunned by what he reads on the frame. ‘March 10, 1917’ These aren’t just any constellations; this is what they looked like the night he was born. Whoever is doing this is hitting all of Bucky’s soft spots. His heart swells for whoever it is.
Steve returns from his run, expecting to find Bucky on the common floor. When he doesn’t show up all day, Steve quietly checks in with JARVIS. Bucky is on his floor and has been all day. Fear bubbles up, but JARVIS assures him that Bucky is fine and even appears to be happy.
December 24th
Steve’s nerves are shot today. He ran twice as far, going over and over what could happen later. He notices, when he sees Bucky at the Tower around lunch, his friend seems distracted. Then about midafternoon, he disappears. It could be that he’s showering and getting ready to greet their guests, but Steve’s pretty sure it’s something else.
Retrieving the last Secret Santa gift, Steve heads to Bucky’s door. What he finds is Bucky, sitting on the sofa, looking at the constellations. “I don’t know who’s doing this, but it means a lot.”
He doesn’t look over at Steve, just keeps staring. “They’re how the constellations looked the day you were born.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Then his head turns, narrowing his eyes at Steve. “How did you know? I haven’t shown you this.” Going over, Steve carefully moves the frame aside, sitting on the coffee table, facing Bucky. Steve hands over the small box, the last gift. Bucky looks between the box and Steve’s face until he realizes what’s been going on. “You?”
Steve blushes, nodding. “Yeah, me.” Tilting his head, indicating the box, Bucky opens it.
Inside, amongst the velvet is a necklace. On the end of the heavy silver chain is a pendent shaped like a compass. “Steve, this is...what does it mean?”
With a thumb under Bucky’s chin, Steve raises his face to lock eyes. “It’s so you can always find your way back,” there’s beat of silence, then Steve finishes the thought, “to me.”
Taking the necklace from the box, Steve fastens it around Bucky’s neck. “To you?”
Steve nods, still gazing at the compass. “In whatever way you need me.”
With that, Steve gets up, leaving Bucky to decipher the meaning that Steve’s left hanging in the air. Heading to his own apartment, Steve gets in the shower, readying himself for the party. Bucky will probably have questions later, questions that Steve will answer truthfully. But it will be hard. Hard to watch Bucky understand. Hard to grasp if it puts a wedge between them. Hard if he has to let his best friend go.
Steve’s wandering around, trying to focus on conversations that people draw him into. He keeps glancing at the elevator, watching for Bucky. The party has been underway for nearly an hour, so Steve’s convinced himself that he’s lost his best friend, who doesn’t even want to show up at the party because Steve is there. When he finally stops watching the elevator, accepting his fate, Steve feels a hand on his shoulder.
Before he can turn, the hand on his shoulder slides down his arm, easing down to his palm, then fingers intertwine with his own. Looking over, Bucky smiles warmly at him. “I hope I didn’t miss too much.”
Steve looks down at their joined hands. “Not too much, but I think I’m missing something.”
“You didn’t miss anything, Sweetheart.” Leaning in, Bucky kisses his cheek. “But I missed something pretty damned important for entirely too long.”
Later, Bucky pulls Steve onto the dance floor, positioning him underneath one of the many bunches of mistletoe that Tony hung up. “Buck?”
“I’m going to kiss you under the mistletoe while we have our first dance.” Just as their lips are about to meet, Bucky whispers. “I’m gonna be sleeping at your place tonight.” As their lips seal in their first kiss, Steve caresses Bucky’s cheek.
All the questions and concerns about how to tell Bucky how he feels, and all Steve needed to do was show him.