Bucky Barnes was new to... this sort of dating. After being under the control of HYDRA for the majority of most Christmases, without Steve with him, suddenly being back in the warmth of familiarity and safety was a strange flip.

Looking over to see Steve Rogers sitting by the fire, book in his lap and a coffee by his side, was a welcome familiarity. Bucky moved to sit near him and basked in the warmth.

"You doing okay?" Steve's hand moved to his hair; Bucky, sitting on the floor close to the fireplace, leaned into his touch with a tired smile.

"I'm good," he hushed, allowing himself to feel safe enough to close his eyes. The only sound was the crackling of fire; Steve brushing through his hair a constant comfort.

He remembered the times when he was small and sickly and Bucky used to do the same to him -- occasionally brushing his hand over his forehead to check his temperature, fix the strands of hair that had fallen loose.

"Steve, you don't... celebrate Christmas, right?" Bucky sat up to look at him. Steve didn't let on how proud he was that Bucky remembered that one small detail, he hadn't mentioned it since Bucky was back -- he nodded. "Can I... can I get you something for Hannukah, then?"

Steve's chest warmed and it had nothing to do with the coffee and the fire burning merrily in the background. He smiled at him, a soft look that Bucky wanted to exist in forever.

"Sure," he hummed, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. "Thank you, Buck."

////

Bucky rolled his neck and blew out a breath. This mission was going to be dangerous, one of the scariest things he'll have done in a very long time. He slowly pulled his mask on, zipped his boots up, geared up to face the enemy.

The general public.

In the store he avoided everyone like the plague, frowning as he browsed the aisles for the crafts he needed. Steve was always cold, so Bucky's plan was to knit him a sweater -- maybe one, maybe two if he worked fast enough. It was November 30th, he had until the 10th...

He had to get to work.

He arrived later at home trailing beautiful fabrics and threads, walking silently so Steve isn't aware he's home.

Still, as soon as he silently stepped foot into the hallway leading to their bedroom -- he heard Steve say, "Hey, Buck".

The keen sense of that man never ceased to amaze Bucky as he entered the bedroom, quickly shoving the grocery bags under the bed. Steve grinned at him, pretending not to have noticed.

"You're gonna ruin the surprise," Bucky chided playfully as he climbed onto the bed, sitting next to him and placing his mask carefully next to the lamp.

He was still adjusting to the comfort of the mattress, so used to sleeping on essentially slabs of concrete with a thin blanket -- it took some getting used to. Typically he just slept on Steve's chest, though; there was a comfort he knew would remain the same.

"I would never," Steve replied as Bucky had finally settled, tucked precariously beside him, limbs held close to his body. Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, silently reminding him that he was safe and protected.

////

Over the next week and a bit Bucky found himself knitting every time he was stressed -- by the time the 9th had rolled around it was as if he'd blinked and suddenly there surrounding him were fourteen finished sweaters of varying colours and designs.

He raised an eyebrow at himself, surprised in his abilities -- then he painstakingly folded each one and tucked it into the box he'd snagged.

Somehow, wrapping felt like it took up almost more of the time that he'd spent knitting the darn things, but when he sat back on his heels, satisfied, the sweaters were beautifully packed in a brightly decorated box.

It was nice when Steve came home -- it always was, but especially when Bucky knew he would be prepared for the first night of Hanukkah and that more likely than not, Steve would be pleased with the gift.

"Hey," Bucky hummed as Steve shuffled in, discarding both shield and helmet at the front door on their respective hooks. Steve, exhausted as he was, smiled at him as he slipped his shoes off. "Punch a couple nazis?"

"Mhmm," Steve yawned, curling against him on the couch -- Bucky hesitated only a moment before hugging him close, kissing his forehead with a feather light touch. "Did your day go okay?"

Bucky nodded absently, closing his eyes, running his hand gently up and down his arm. Steve yawned again, finally going lax in his grasp. "I'll handle dinner tonight," Bucky murmured as he glanced at the clock.

"Don't move, you're so warm," Steve complained into his chest, and Bucky smiled softly at him.

"You gotta eat, baby doll." He sat up straighter; Steve's arms tightened around him. For a hero who generally worked independently he could be very clingy at times -- mostly when he was tired. Bucky shook his head, smiling as Steve mumbled incoherently into his chest. "You get five more minutes."

This, this was comfortable territory -- this was Bucky looking out for Steve, protecting him just as well as Steve could protect him.

It was a familiarity he trusted and would never lose again.

////

December arrived with a flurry of snow that covered Brooklyn entirely. Steve avoided going outside when he could -- still couldn't quite handle the cold the way he wanted to -- but it did allow him to be close to Bucky. Soon enough it was the morning of the 10th; frost covered the windows and Steve curled closer to Bucky and pressed against his chest.

"Mornin'," Bucky mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He sat up straighter when it hit him that it was the 10th; he smiled down at Steve. "Happy Hanukkah."

"Hey, you remembered," Steve said with a grin, rolling over to grab a shirt, hugging himself for warmth. Bucky noticed-- he took his hands gently once Steve had settled again.

"'Course I did," he said. "I may be a brainwashed and unstable hundred year old man, but I do remember things told to me two weeks ago." He considered for a moment. "Usually."

"Well, it's a good sign." Steve reluctantly rose from bed to get dressed -- Bucky eyed him a moment before turning instead to check his phone notifications. "So? Any plans for today?"

Bucky ruffled his hair and stretched. "Whatever you want, hon. Could fancy some fresh air?"

"Exploring the city it is," Steve declared with a satisfied grin. Bucky eagerly got himself dressed, invigorated by Steve's obvious happiness at the idea.

They returned in the evening after exploring familiar old haunts and new places Steve had told him he just "had to see, Buck", and Bucky agreed it was well worth it.

"Hey, Steve?" Bucky called him into the living room, adjusting and readjusting the box to look presentable on the table. Steve eyed it, curiously, a small grin on his face.

"Buck... "

"Happy Hanukkah," he said and spread his hands out.

Steve smiled shyly and opened the box; the contents came spilling over the box and he raised his eyebrows.

"I uh, knit when I'm stressed." He frowned down at the collective pile as Steve Steve sweater after sweater, placing them gently on the table. "Knitted a lot," he confessed and looked up to see Steve perusing the mass with a smile.

"They might be a little tight," Bucky continued, starting to ramble. "I just, I -- you hate the cold, so I wanted to make you something to help with that."

"They're beautiful, Bucky, thank you." Steve was studying the pile fondly, his cheeks flushed and not from the cold. He picked one up, held it to his chest -- it was the softest thing he'd ever felt.

"Oh!" He crossed to the desk, grabbed Bucky's present and presented it to him with a small, nervous smile. "Merry Christmas, Buck. I know it's a little early."

"Steve, you didn't have to... " He trailed off upon seeing Steve's pointed look, so he blushed and murmured his shy thanks. Turning slightly, he shredded the paper to reveal a scrapbook.

He looked at Steve, eyebrows raised, and Steve nodded to the pages. "I've filled the first few with some photos I found," he mentioned as Bucky began carding through the pages, fascinated. "Found some of this stuff at auctions, online. Nat helped a lot," he added.

"Aw, Steve... " His metal fingers danced lightly over the laminate photo of him, Steve and the Howling Commandos. Their faces were nearly blurred out with age but Bucky could still easily identify each of them -- got a little choked up when he realised that he'd been able to recognize them at all.

Steve watched his reaction a little nervously. He was relieved to find Bucky smiling, the memories more of a dull ache than a painful reminder. He seemed to appreciate the gesture.

"This is beautiful," Bucky hushed as he placed it carefully on the table. He moved closer to Steve, wrapped his arms around him and kissed him.

Steve kissed back gently, tilting his head just so, tilting his chin with his fingers. The other hand worked into Bucky's hair, and he hummed happily in response.

"Thank you," Steve murmured against his mouth, and Bucky smiled, meeting his soft gaze.

"'Course, Stevie." He cocked his head, smiled a little wider. "I love you."

Steve gave him another kiss, gentler than before. "I love you too, sweetheart."

////

Here's hoping I can keep this at the right pace/right updating schedule!