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Cursing as his tires skid on another patch of ice, Bucky wonders why he didn’t listen to his mother who told him to “ride the bus!” instead of attempting to make it up a slick mountain road in the wake of a winter storm with another on the way. Easing off the gas, he turns the wheel slightly, just enough to correct for the slip of the tires on the slick road. Thankfully, his sports car straightens out, and he sighs in relief. By all accounts, he should have either listened to his mother or rented an SUV. Driving a Camaro in this weather is perhaps the height of his idiocy, and he’s exhibited a lot during his lifetime.
Finally, he turns the corner to the ski lodge where he plans to spend the holiday. It’s massive, a three-story wooden structure with snow covered gables and walls of glass that promise stellar views of the surrounding mountains, if a lack of privacy. At second glance, he realizes he likely can only see into the common areas of the lodge. Surely, the individual rooms are much cozier and provide less opportunity for exhibitionism. Although, if he had someone to “exhibition” with, he probably wouldn’t mind so much that there are huge windows everywhere.
As he pulls into the circle drive, a valet meets him immediately, and he happily turns over his keys with shaky hands. Staggering into the lobby, he blows on his chilled fingers and walks directly to the coffee station so he can consume something hot. To his utter delight, he finds an option for cocoa, complete with miniature marshmallows and graham cracker squares. When he’s sated his craving for warmth, sugar, and caffeine, he troops over to the check-in desk. The process is quick and seamless, and he’s in his room before he knows it. His bags arrive only a few minutes later.
Flopping onto the massive bed, he spreads his arms and legs wide and huffs out a massive breath. It feels amazing to be here, away from the familiar hustle and bustle of the holiday season, but there’s also a lingering sadness that he really had nowhere else to go. This year, his traditional Christmas plans fell through in spectacular fashion when his baby sister decided she wanted to spend the holiday with her husband and kids instead of celebrating with the extended family. As a result, his mother booked a cruise, and she and Bucky’s dad immediately jetted off to Florida to catch the boat. Single and too embarrassed to beg one of his friends for an invite, he made a snap decision to plan a holiday of his own. Now that he’s here, he’s having mixed emotions.
The longer he lies there, the darker the room grows as the sun hides behind the surrounding mountains. Eventually, his stomach protests with a loud growl, so he rolls off the bed with an exaggerated moan. He’s tempted to order room service, but he might as well pretend to be sociable before holing up in his room and ignoring the other guests. Besides, he doesn’t want to wait for something to be delivered when there’s a full buffet just waiting for him downstairs. He runs an impatient hand through his hair and tugs his boots back on before heading toward the dining wing.
Strolling down the corridor, he’s not paying attention, which is why he runs into a wall. At least, that’s what he’s sure has happened when he staggers backward and falls immediately on his ass. Glancing up, he blinks rapidly. There’s an angel reaching down to him, complete with a golden halo illuminating his handsome face.
“So sorry! I apologize. Wasn’t watching where I was going,” comes in a rapid fire of words. “Let me help you up.” Reaching toward the extended hand, Bucky blinks when a massive, warm palm clasps his and tugs him to his feet.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, too overwhelmed to say much else. It’s not every day he gets knocked onto his keister, and he’s a little flustered, especially when the mountain of a man in front of him smiles. Stunned, he basks in the attention, unfurling like a flower at the first sign of spring.
“My fault. Totally my fault. I was just headed down for dinner, and my stomach decided to take charge. I don’t usually bowl over handsome men, but when I do, I put them on their asses.”
Blinking furiously, Bucky gapes for a few seconds. Is this flirting? Handsome? Asses?
“What’s…happening?”
“Uh… I’m apologizing for knocking you down?”
The stranger’s low rumble reverberates through Bucky’s chest, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from whimpering. There’s something about this man—whoever he is—that makes Bucky want things he’s been missing for a while. He hasn’t had such a dry spell since his freshman year of college, and he doesn’t like it at all. The guy in front of him, however…yeah, Bucky likes him a lot.
“Right. I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. I really am sorry for bowling you over, knocking you down like a pin. Right down the—” Shaking his head, he stops and offers a rueful grin. “I also get carried away and take metaphors too far. Are you hungry? Can I buy you dinner or something for being such a…a punk?”
“A punk?” Bucky parrots as if he has no vocabulary of his own.
“Well, yeah. It’s not the most exciting term in the world, but— You know what? Never mind.” Shaking himself, Steve tries again. “So, I’m Steve, and I’m very sorry I ran into you. I was supposed to meet some friends here to ski, but their flight got canceled, so I’m here by myself. If you have other plans, please ignore me, but if you don’t, I could use the company. My treat for role playing as a bull in a China shop.”
“I, uh…sure. Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes. Spending the holidays here, and I would love to have dinner with you.” When it registers that he’s gushing, he clarifies quickly. “With a normal amount of enthusiasm, I would love to grab some food together.”
A brilliant smile lights up Steve’s face, and Bucky’s pretty sure he’s seen Heaven as a result. Falling into step together, they make their way down the hallway. Bucky can’t believe his good fortune at meeting someone so lovely on his first day of his extended, isolated, lonely stay.
“You’re spending the holidays here?” Steve asks, his blue eyes flitting over Bucky’s face when he turns to glance at his companion. “Is that…by choice?”
With a rueful grin, he nods his head. “Of course. What? You think I’m so pathetic that I don’t have any other options on the holidays?”
A shadow passes over Steve’s face, and Bucky realizes he’s stuck both feet in his mouth. Flushing deeply, he sputters a rambling apology and comes to a complete stop. Too mortified to say anything, he stands frozen for several seconds before Steve does a double take and reverses course to stand by his side.
“That was… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything,” he says meekly.
Waving off Bucky’s worry, Steve shrugs his shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m an only child, and I lost my mom a few years ago. Never knew my dad. I spend most holidays with friends but bad luck this year. I’ve never been on my own for Christmas before, but I figure I might as well be here than anywhere else, right? Get some skiing done. Meet new people. Pretend I’m some jet setting person who never spends holidays at home.”
“Right,” Bucky agrees quickly, terrified he’ll say something else impolite if he gets half a chance. “In answer to your question, I kind of got abandoned this year. My sister wanted a family Christmas with just her husband and kids, so my parents decided to go on a cruise. Like you, I just wanted to be somewhere that wasn’t home, even if the city is the most beautiful place to be in December.”
“City? New York?”
Nodding eagerly, Bucky answers, “Yeah. I live in Brooklyn.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not going to believe this, but so do I. Red Hook. Lived there all my life.”
For a split second, Bucky wonders if this is all a scam, if Steve is a plant who has targeted Bucky and plans to steal his identity or lure him onto the slopes and murder him. Fortunately, the spell breaks when Steve cracks a joke that makes Bucky howl with laughter. By the time he regains his breath, his paranoia has lessened considerably, and he feels comfortable enough to finish the trek to the restaurant on the ground floor of the lodge.
Bucky can’t remember when he’s had so much fun as he does during dinner with his new friend. Steve is funny, smart, and gorgeous, as well as kind, considerate, and interesting. He asks great questions, listens carefully, and continually puts Bucky at ease. At Bucky’s suggestion, they share a bottle of wine, and he’s pleasantly warm and loose by the time they make their way back to the corridor where they met a few hours previously.
As they walk, Bucky’s shoulder bumps against Steve’s inadvertently, and their fingers brush briefly a few times until he stops in front of his door. Turning to face Steve, Bucky gives him a smile to let him know how much he’s enjoyed the evening. He intends to shake Steve’s hand—he really does—but somehow his arms are around Steve’s broad back, and Steve has him cradled against his hard chest. Inhaling sharply, Bucky holds his breath as if that will keep the embrace from ending. Unfortunately, it stops all too soon.
Taking a step back, Steve ducks his head. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. That was…”
“Nice.”
“Well, I was going to say something like it was uncalled for, but I like your version better,” Steve replies with a chuckle.
Grabbing the doorjamb, Bucky squeezes his eyes closed and forces himself to behave. “Right, so, I’m a little…you know, tipsy or something. I should go inside my room now. I had a really good time tonight.”
“Are you skiing tomorrow?”
“Skiing?” he parrots again.
“If you’re here alone and would like some company on the slopes, I’m available.”
“Sure!” Bucky agrees brightly, ignoring the fact that he can’t ski worth shit. “Sure, I’d love that. I’ll find you at breakfast?”
With a brilliant smile, Steve backs down the hall. “See you in the morning, then.”
Slipping into his room, Bucky leans back against the door and huffs, “Oh my gawwwwwd! What a fucking hunk.”
Giggling like a loon he toes off his shoes, leaps onto the bed, and wiggles happily. After much too long and the most extensive dating drought in the history of the world (okay, that’s hyperbole, but he’s justified in his exaggeration), he’s finally met someone who makes his insides flutter. Never mind that he has no idea if Steve’s gay or bi. Never mind that Bucky can’t seem to remember how to speak around him half the time. Who cares that he’s been single so long that he can’t remember what it’s like to be in a relationship? Besides, he just met this guy, doesn’t even know if he’s single, so there’s no reason to get ahead of himself. For now, it’s enough that he’s made a friend and won’t have to spend his entire time over the holidays completely by himself.
Heaving a happy sigh, Bucky grabs his phone and sends a short text to Becca to let her know he made it and is safe. Before he can even toss it back onto the covers, it rings, and he answers with a gruff hello.
“Hey, big brother. How’s it going?” she asks. She sounds tired but content, and he’s grateful for his brother-in-law for keeping his baby sister happy.
“It’s cold up here. Someone exiled me to the wilds of the Berkshires for Christmas. No idea who would be so cruel and mean,” he teases.
“You could have stayed in the city, you know. I would have figured out some way to see you over the holidays.” Gently, she chides, “You didn’t have to be overdramatic and run off to pout. You know how much I adore you. It’s just that—”
“Becca, it’s okay,” he assures her, and he realizes it actually is. “It’s gorgeous up here, and I’ve already made a friend. I’m fine. Ma may never forgive you, but we both know how good she is at guilt-tripping both of us.”
“Ain’t that the truth?
“Are you okay, Bex? You sound tired.”
A weary chuckle fills his ear, and he wonders if he should do more for her when he has a chance. “Bucky, I have two kids under six, and it’s five days till Christmas. Of course, I’m tired.”
“I mean, if you hadn’t run me off, I could have helped you out,” he says. If they weren’t on the phone, he’s positive she’d be giving him the finger.
“I’m hanging up now, Bucky.”
“Give the boys a hug from me, okay? When I get back, I’ll take them off your hands for an evening. Let you guys go out for a date night or something.”
They exchange goodbyes, and Bucky drops the phone and his arms to the mattress. He’s still flying high, excited about meeting Steve and having someone to hang out with during his time away from the city. Still pleasantly woozy, he forces himself to his feet and changes into a loose, worn t-shirt and a pair of thinning flannel sleep pants. Once he’s comfortable, he climbs into bed and under the covers. He barely has time to switch off the bedside lamp before he falls into a deep, dream-filled sleep.
He wakes the next morning with a slight headache and a dry mouth, although he’s not exactly hungover. Stretching under the covers, Bucky chases the warm, fuzzy feelings that linger from his dreams and snuggles a little deeper into the pillow. For several moments, he wonders if there’s any reason for him to get up, and then he remembers the cause of his contentment. Bolting upright, he scrambles for his phone and sees that it’s almost 9:00 in the morning. If he’s going to meet Steve, he needs to hurry. It’s possible he’s already missed his window of opportunity.
By the time he makes it downstairs, he’s frazzled but excited. Thankfully, Steve’s still there, seated in a corner of the coffee shop eating a pastry and blowing on the hot liquid in a mug before taking a careful sip. He’s as gorgeous as he was the previous evening, with golden hair and blue eyes that crinkle in delight when he spies Bucky standing in the doorway. Stumbling over his feet, Bucky makes his way over to Steve’s table and drops into the chair opposite of him.
“Hi!” he says brightly, feeling a little foolish but thrilled to be back in Steve’s presence. “I slept like a rock. Didn’t realize how late it’d gotten. Sorry.”
Motioning to the barista, Steve sets his mug down on the table. “You’re worth the wait,” he says softly, and Bucky melts. “Go ahead and have your breakfast. We don’t have to be on the slopes right away.”
“Okay,” he agrees with a shiver of pleasure. “Uh, is this a bad time to admit that I’m not a very good skier? Because I’m not a very good skier.”
Cocking his head, Steve smiles at him, and Bucky feels it in his toes. “Would you rather start with the bunny slopes? Maybe one of the easier green runs? I don’t mind. Just don’t really want to be up on the mountain by myself. It’s not nearly as much fun as being with someone else.”
Gulping at the thought of actually strapping on skis and attempting to stay on his feet in front of his brand new crush, Bucky nods carefully. “As long as you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
Steve’s smile lights up the entire room. Breathless from having it directed at him, Bucky ducks his head and takes a sip of his cocoa to hide his sappy grin. He knows he should admit that he’s a terrible skier, that he’s never gotten further than stepping off the chairlift and falling on his ass, but he doesn’t want to risk losing Steve as a companion. As nice as spending some time alone at the lodge sounded when he made the reservations, he certainly wouldn’t trade it for a burgeoning friendship with someone so intriguing.
Thankfully, Steve keeps his word. After Bucky gets fitted for boots and skis, he follows Steve to the chair lift for the bunny slopes and gets his feet under him. When Steve offers pointers, Bucky takes them gratefully and finds them helpful. Before he knows it, he’s having fun and agreeing to try one of the longer runs higher up on the mountain.
“What do you think? Lunch break?” Steve asks. “Need to keep up our energy, obviously. Plus, it’s probably a good idea to warm up. The last thing either of us wants, I’m sure, is to spend Christmas injured.”
Bucky agrees readily. As much fun as he’s having, he’s cold, tired, and hungry. Spending an hour or so inside with Steve in front of a roaring fire sounds like a beautiful reward for conquering the bunny slopes. So is the view of Steve’s backside as Bucky tromps along behind him in his ski boots, carefully stepping heel to toe so he won’t twist an ankle.
A small café that serves soups and hot sandwiches isn’t too busy, so they settle at a table. The interior is cheery and decorated for the holidays with twinkling lights and boughs of evergreen. Sighing happily, Bucky slumps into his chair. Now that he’s inside and warm, he’s exhausted, much more tired than he realized and famished.
“I’ll buy you lunch if you can make my body stop aching,” he groans and immediately flushes. While there’s nothing inherently sexual about what he just said, there’s enough innuendo that Steve quirks an eyebrow at him and grins.
“And just how would you suggest I do that?” Steve teases as he takes a slow, seductive bite of his sandwich.
Grunting as he rearranges his sore legs, Bucky shrugs. “Buy me a massage. Find me a hot tub. There’s got to be one around here somewhere.”
“Both of those sound like pretty decent ideas. We’ll see.”
Lunch passes much too quickly for Bucky’s taste, and they head back up the mountain, this time significantly higher than where he mastered the bunny slopes.
“Relax. I’ll get you back to the lodge safely.”
Glancing sideways at Steve, Bucky can’t help wondering if he’s bitten off more than he can chew. The chair lift climbs slowly but steadily upward, rising silently over snow covered pine trees and deep, rocky ridges. If he looks to his left, he can see tiny skiers weaving back and forth over cleared paths, but he prefers to keep his eyes on the horizon or fixed on Steve’s handsome face.
When he finally speaks, his voice is small. “I typically fall off the chair lift,” he admits with a self-deprecating laugh. “Like flat on my ass and they have to shut it down until I can get up.”
“No problem. You keep your hands on your poles. I’ll lift the bar when we get there. All you have to do is lean forward like you’re getting up out of a chair at your house. If you fall, I’ll catch you.”
Blinking at Steve’s calm confidence, he wonders if it’s possible he’s fallen into an alternate reality instead of on his butt. There’s no way perfection like Steve actually exists in his world. It’s just not possible. Still caught up in Steve’s spell, Bucky almost misses that they’re nearing the end of the lift. Suddenly, panic wells up inside him, but Steve simply murmurs instructions as they near the ground. Before he knows it, Bucky’s skis hit the snow, and he wobbles as Steve grabs his upper arm.
“See? No problem,” Steve says as they skid to a stop several feet away from the lift. “You did great.”
To his surprise, he holds his own the rest of the day too. Despite his earlier nerves, he finds he enjoys the fresh air in his face, the icy feel of it in his lungs, and the tingle when they finally make it back to the lodge as the sun sets behind the mountains. He fell a few times, but they were never anything serious. One particular wipe out left him sunken in a deep snow drift, but Steve hauled him out and put him back on his feet. Bucky’s pretty sure the day can’t get any better until he flops into a chair and Steve looks at him with a smug expression.
“Don’t get too comfortable. We’ve only got time for one drink. Well, maybe two if you hurry.”
“What? Why? I can drink fast,” he sputters. “Or not. Why— Sorry, what’s happening?”
Taking a sip of his hot toddy, Steve raises his eyebrows innocently. “Oh, nothing. Just that I might have made an appointment for a massage.”
Speechless, Bucky holds his hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps halfway to his mouth and gasps, “You what?”
“You told me you’d buy me lunch if I could get your body to stop aching,” Steve explains with a grin. “I decided to take you up on it.”
“But I didn’t buy you lunch,” he protests.
“There’s always tomorrow. Or dinner tonight. Whatever feels right.”
Unsure if he’ll ever be able to close his mouth, he gapes at Steve for several seconds before lifting his mug to his mouth and drinking deeply. He licks his lips after the sip and asks, “You booked me a massage just because I joked about it?”
“Well, technically, I booked both of us a massage because the idea sounded so good, I knew I’d be insanely jealous if you got one without me.”
He blurts, “A couple’s massage?” without thinking and immediately blushes, but Steve doesn’t even bat an eye.
“I hear that’s what they call two people getting massaged in the same room at the same time.”
At first, Bucky’s sure he’s going to die of embarrassment. However, getting a massage in the same room with Steve is simultaneously the most relaxing and erotic experience of his life. The sight of Steve in nothing but a towel makes Bucky’s eyes cross. Lying flat on the table is difficult, but the prone position thankfully hides his arousal. The masseuses use peppermint oil on Bucky and cinnamon on Steve, which results in an aroma that makes his mouth water. Still, it’s the strong fingers and capable hands kneading his shoulders and calves that make him groan with happiness.
When the massage is done, Steve nods to the sauna. Without saying a word, Bucky walks to it with only a towel around his waist and slips inside. Settling onto the wooden slats, Bucky sighs contentedly when Steve sits close enough that his shoulder brushes Bucky’s. Before long, they’re both beaded with sweat, and the fragrance of peppermint and cinnamon saturates the air around them. Bucky can’t help licking his lips when droplets run down Steve’s sculpted chest.
“I’m never leaving,” Steve groans with his eyes closed and head leaned back against the wall. “Just gonna live at this resort for the rest of my life. Feel free to join me.”
“If I hadn’t already told my nephews that I’ll be back on December 26, I would,” Bucky groans. “You really know how to show a guy a good time, Steve. Today’s been pretty stellar.”
They sit there long enough that Bucky wonders if he’s dozed off three or four times. Without realizing it, Steve’s shoulder is pressed against him and keeping him upright while the sauna draws out all the toxins and impurities from his body. He’s going to need a gallon of water to rehydrate, but it feels good in the meantime. By the time he’s redressed and ready to return to his hotel room, he can hardly walk.
“Any chance you’re interested in room service tonight for dinner?” he asks as he leans against the wall. “Too tired for anything else. Either that, or I could make a reservation for tomorrow night. Maybe take the afternoon off skiing and hang around here.”
Yawning widely, Steve agrees readily. “Tomorrow night is totally fine. I might just head to my room. I’d like to check in with my friends, and I need sleep. Meet you tomorrow morning to ski again?”
“Sounds good,” he says, and it’s true.
Another day with Steve sounds amazing—almost as terrific as the soft kiss he presses to Bucky’s cheek when they separate for the evening. The outline of Steve’s lips burns on his cheek as he turns on the shower and steps inside. He’s so horny, he jacks off twice in spite of his exhaustion. Surprisingly, it does almost nothing to take the edge off his libido. Steve’s lit a fire in him that’s been dormant for much too long.
Bucky’s not sure how it happens, but all of a sudden, it’s December twenty-third. For the past few days, Steve’s been part of almost all of Bucky’s waking hours, and they have another dinner date that night. Of course, it’s not an actual date. It’s simply two new friends eating at the same table and possibly sampling off each other’s plates. All purely platonic in bro code, even if Bucky wishes that it could morph into more.
Knocking firmly on his door, Steve grins when Bucky opens it. Sucking in a breath, Bucky’s stunned into silence at the sky blue sweater and charcoal velvet pants that Steve wears. The blue of his top is the exact same shade as his eyes, which glow with happiness and a hint of mischief. Glancing down at himself, he wonders if the plum dress pants and black silk shirt matched with shiny ebony leather boots is too casual, but Steve gives him an appreciative whistle before nodding down the hallway.
“Dinner. Starving. Must eat food,” Steve exclaims as he clutches his stomach dramatically. “Someone wore me out on the mountain today. We started on the bunny slopes, and now you’ve got me skiing blues and black diamonds. I’ve created a monster!”
Bucky laughs in response, but that’s to disguise the rush of blood to his groin at what Steve’s just said. What Bucky wouldn’t give to wear Steve out or vice versa. Bucky’s not really picky when it comes to sex. He’s happy to switch depending on his partner’s preference. If he had to guess, he assumes Steve likes to be in charge in the bedroom, but Bucky’s pretty sure he’s never going to get the chance to find out.
When they’re settled at their table, Steve leans forward on his elbows and blurts, “There’s a massive storm headed this way. My friends decided not to come late and risk not being able to get out after Christmas, so I guess you’re stuck with just me for the next few days. Unless you have other plans, of course. I just realized that you might want to leave tomorrow morning before the snow comes. Sorry for assuming.”
For a split second, Bucky does consider leaving. A snowstorm is going to wreak havoc with the roads, and his Camaro isn’t going to handle that well if he follows through with his plan to leave on December 26. That thought is fleeting, though, because there’s no way Bucky wants to part ways with Steve before it’s necessary. He’d rather cut off his left arm than walk away from someone he’s pretty sure he might already love.
“No, I don’t plan on leaving early. If the storm is bad, I might not be checking out after Christmas either. We’ll have to see. I should have listened to my mother.”
“Listening to Mom is always a good idea, but why in this case? What did she suggest that you ignored?” Steve asks as he takes a sip of the wine the sommelier sets before them.
Shaking his head, Bucky laughs at his ridiculousness. “I drove a sports car up the mountain in the snow and ice. Going back down after a blizzard will likely be terrible.”
“Brave man. I’m either impressed or horrified. Not really sure which yet.”
“Well, sometimes I’m not very bright.”
Steve’s eyes glow in the candlelight as he leans forward. “I don’t buy that at all. You’re a quick study. Just look how fast you picked up skiing. You take direction really well.”
Bucky’s eyes cross briefly at the thought of Steve giving him an order in bed, but he shakes it off quickly. “Well, you know,” he concedes. “I guess I’m not completely hopeless. If I was, I’d probably get fired.”
“Wait. What is it you do for a living? How have we not had this conversation yet?”
Flushing, Bucky mumbles his answer. He hates sounding like he’s bragging. “I’m a mechanical engineer. I work for Stark Industries.”
“Wow,” Steve gasps. “I think I underestimated you. Working for Stark is… Well, that’s really big. Genius level stuff.”
“That’s not exactly how I’d put it.”
“How would you put it?” Stevee asks without missing a beat.
“I mean, I’m not a total idiot most of the time,” he jokes. “Unless I plan a spontaneous trip to a ski resort over Christmas because I’m pouting about my family abandoning me for the holidays.”
“To be fair, I’d be upset too. If I had anyone left to abandon me, that is. My friends don’t count. They have lives and families of their own, and they’re fantastic at inviting me along or joining me when they can. Present trip excluded, of course, but that’s not really their fault. Canceled flights are a bitch, and they were genuinely upset they couldn’t make it.”
“Well, their loss is my gain,” Bucky admits. “Seriously, Steve, I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed getting to know you these past few days. You’ve made my…well, you’ve made everything better. I’m—I mean, I just really appreciate that you’ve bothered to spend any time with me at all.”
“Maybe you’re the one that’s made my everything better,” Steve replies softly as he picks up a roll and butters it. Studiously avoiding Bucky’s eyes, Steve carefully puts down his knife before looking up and offering a bashful smile. “Maybe I’m really grateful my friends couldn’t come and that your family left you to your own devices this year. Bucky, you’re… God, I’m completely enamored with you.”
Blinking rapidly, Bucky gapes for several seconds before swallowing hard. When he finally manages to say something, he can hardly speak. “Y-you are?”
Reaching across the table, Steve covers Bucky’s hand with his and laces their fingers when Bucky flips his under Steve’s warm palm. “As if you couldn’t already tell.”
“I could? I mean, I didn’t! I don’t. I…really? You’re not talking about the person standing behind me or something?”
Smiling tenderly, Steve squeezes his hand. “Face it. You’re a catch.”
“I…”
Struck dumb by Steve’s admission, Bucky can’t find words for several long moments. Ducking his head, he finally mumbles an acknowledgement, but he’s too worked up to do more than offer monosyllabic responses to Steve’s attempts at conversation. As soon as they’ve finished eating, Steve charges the meal to his room and motions to the door.
“Wanna get out of here?”
Desperate for anything that will help get his brain to function again, Bucky leaps at the offer. In seconds, they’re out the door and hustling back toward the wing where they’re both staying. They’re moving so quickly that Bucky’s not prepared when Steve tugs him into an alcove around the corner and presses him up against the wall behind a large tree sized potted plant.
Eyes twinkling, Steve cups Bucky’s jaw and rubs his thumb over stubble. Bucky holds his breath, unsure exactly what’s coming, although he has a pretty good idea. They’ve been dancing around each other since his first day at the resort, and now Steve seems determined to ratchet up the tension.
“Feel like Santa came early this year,” Steve finally murmurs. “Brought me you as a present.”
Bucky’s lips quirk up into a crooked smile as he blushes again. He can feel his face get hot, but he’s also internally melting from Steve’s compliment. Finally, though, he has his words back, so he decides to flirt just a little. Softly, he asks, “Are you going to unwrap me? Seems like you’d be doing Santa a disservice if you don’t.”
Freezing for a moment, Steve studies him so closely that it’s almost uncomfortable. He’s got a piercing gaze, one that seems to reach deep inside Bucky and expose his private, darkest secrets. It’s terrifying to think that Steve might be able to see all his insecurities and vulnerabilities. Usually, Bucky tries to hide all that from the world behind a concrete wall. Somehow, Steve’s broken down that barrier in only a few days.
Whatever it is that Steve sees causes him to snap. Dragging Bucky’s mouth to his, Steve kisses him fiercely, with a desperate passion that won’t be denied. Moaning low in his throat, Bucky opens his mouth and takes Steve’s tongue inside, sucking on it and rubbing it with his own. Steve propels him back against the wall so quickly that Bucky utters a muffled grunt. Fisting Steve’s shirt in his hands, Bucky clings to him as his knees go weak. All that appears to do is excite Steve, who can’t seem to stop kissing him.
“Christ Almighty,” Bucky gasps when they finally break apart. “You can kiss!”
“Shhh. Don’t talk,” Steve instructs as he captures Bucky’s mouth again. His thigh presses into Bucky’s legs, driving them wide enough that Steve can slip his body even closer. Grinding against him, Steve bucks his hips, his crotch pressed to Bucky so tightly that he’s sure he’ll come in his pants if it goes on much longer. He’s burning up from the inside out, and about the only thought flitting through his aroused brain is that he needs to come.
“Come back to my room with me,” he begs in a wrecked moan.
Chuckling softly, Steve shakes his head. “Now, why would I want to do that when you’re so perfect for me right here?”
Head falling back against the wall, Bucky tries to protest, but his brain short circuits when Steve flips open the button on Bucky’s pants and works his hand inside. Steve’s long fingers grab his cock, eliciting an exceptionally loud moan—somewhere between a whine and whimper. When he tries to protest that they’re fully visible in the resort’s hallway, Steve murmurs, “Yeah, I know. Anyone could turn the corner and see how desperate you are to get off. Makes it better, doesn’t it? The risk of getting caught? It’s like being high on top of a mind-blowing orgasm.”
“Oh, Christ,” Bucky whines. “Steve, I—”
Huffing hot breath into Bucky’s ear, Steve sighs, “Don’t talk. Just feel.”
Eyes drooping closed, Bucky thrusts into Steve’s fist in stuttered movements. He’s overwhelmed, completely enveloped by Steve’s wide frame and larger than life personality. Their shared heat is so intense that Bucky’s brain sputters and sparks, unable to get online while Steve’s gripping his cock in a tight fist.
“When’s the last time you were so horny you came in your pants, Buck?” Steve croons as he twists his wrist in a slow circular motion that works magic on Bucky’s desire. “Somehow, I think you like being in control, and this is making you a little nuts because you’re not used to letting someone else direct what happens. Do you like it, honey? Do you like what I can do to you?”
Nodding frantically, Bucky pants as he shakes and shudders. Every nerve ending in his body is on fire, and he’s honest enough to admit that he’d do just about anything to relieve the ache in his balls. While peripherally he’s horrified that he might blow in his underwear in a public hallway, he also doesn’t care because he’s so turned on that he feels like he’s flying.
“That’s it, Buck. Let me take the edge off. You’re about to come out of your skin.”
“Oh, fuck,” he whispers as heat rushes through him. Lips parted and heart in his throat, Bucky shivers as his body seizes. Steve’s warm palm strokes over flushed skin, determined to give Bucky pleasure. Moan gurgling in this throat, Bucky shatters, shaking apart against Steve’s arms and spurting over his hand.
Brain whiting out, Bucky’s pure light and heat. He’s floating, his mind flitting from sunshine to rainbows and unicorns as Steve supports his sagging body. All the tension he’s been holding inside seems to flow out of him as Steve strokes his softening cock and pulls every last bit of his orgasm from the tip.
“That’s so good, honey,” Steve murmurs against his fevered skin. “So responsive. So sweet and vulnerable. And nobody saw us.”
Head lolling, Bucky forces himself to concentrate and hears tinkling laughter down the hall. “Somebody’s coming,” he manages to whisper.
“Stay calm. I’ve got you.”
Smearing Bucky’s climax over his stomach, Steve tugs his hand free and refastens the button on Bucky’s waistband just as a couple turns the corner. Barely glancing their way, the man and woman move down the hall together and leave Steve and Bucky alone again.
“Hey,” Steve says softly as he nudges Bucky’s forehead with his own.
Grinning lazily, Bucky sighs, “Hey. I…”
“That invitation to your room still available?”
Nodding eagerly, Bucky blurts, “Of course! Of course, it is. It’s—” He squirms in the wet, sticky mess in his underwear. Flushing bright red, he snaps his mouth shut. He’s almost thirty years old. It’s rather embarrassing how little self-control he has around Steve.
Thankfully, they’re only a hundred yards from Bucky’s room, and they slip inside together without anyone else seeing them. As soon as the door snicks shut, Bucky intends to escape to the bathroom and change his clothes, but Steve seems to have other ideas. Tugging Bucky to him, he brushes his lips over Bucky’s in a tender kiss that makes his toes curl.
“Buck, I’m so glad to have met you. You’ve made the past few days better than I could have imagined.” Pausing to inhale, Steve cups Bucky’s butt in his palms and gives a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want to assume because consent is sexy, but I’d like to spend the night. And to spend Christmas Eve and day with you. Celebrating alone when we’re both here by ourselves seems like torture. What do you say, honey?”
Heart bursting with happiness, Bucky forgets his sticky underwear. Instead, he throws his arms around Steve’s neck and yelps his agreement just before he presses his lips to Steve’s. Tilting his head, he opens his mouth, accepting Steve’s tongue as it strokes and massages. Hands roam, seeking purchase on bare skin, and his jacket falls in a crumpled pile onto the floor. Bucky doesn’t break contact as he backs toward the bed. It’s only when his legs hit the side of the mattress and he scrambles over the covers that he finally catches a glimpse of Steve’s bare chest peeking out from his unbuttoned dress shirt. He’s a mess, his hair standing on end and his cotton boxer briefs tented in arousal. To Bucky, he looks particularly delicious.
For his part, Bucky doesn’t have the patience to tug off his socks or do more than kick his right foot out of the dress pants tangled at his ankles. After the quick hand job in the hallway, what’s between them doesn’t feel frantic, but it seems more important than worrying about stripping completely. What matters is being together. Everything else can wait.
When Steve joins him on the bed, they bump noses awkwardly as they shimmy and squirm into place. As easily as they fit together in the hallway, neither of them seems to be able to figure out where to put their hands or kiss without bursting into nervous laughter. Steve’s tall, his long legs gangly as they wind with Bucky’s. Tugging Steve down on top of him, Bucky loses his breath as the weight of Steve’s torso presses to his.
If the attraction between them wasn’t so intense, Bucky might rethink carrying this through. Some uncertainty is natural, though, he reminds himself. Besides, he’s not the kind of person who thinks everything has to be perfect when good is perfectly fine. First times are often disappointing, although when Steve shoves his underwear down and his hardening cock springs free, he’s not sure how that’s possible with them.
“Holy God,” Bucky breathes as his chest constricts. He’s too dumbstruck at Steve’s girth to do more than blink, so he doesn’t even realize Steve’s slid his fingers in Bucky’s waistband to drag his sticky underwear over his upper thighs.
“Look at you,” Steve teases as he runs a fingertip through a smear of creamy fluid. “Look how much there is. I bet I can get you to come again, get you even dirtier. Maybe even take you in the shower again before washing you clean. What do you think?”
Eyes wide, Bucky nods eagerly before his heart sinks. “I, uh, don’t have any condoms,” he admits. “Didn’t think to bring them. Haven’t exactly…needed any for a while. I did pack lube, though, if that’s helpful.”
Chuckling, Steve teases, “Lube usually is, honey. Interesting that you brought it but no condoms. Too used to taking care of yourself to think about protection?”
“Well, yeah,” he says with a shrug. “No shame in beating my own meat. I am single, after all. That’s pretty much how it’s done.”
Breathing in Bucky’s ear, Steve whispers, “Not tonight. I’ll help you out. Although…God, I kind of want to watch you jack off now, but not enough to stop touching you myself.”
“But—”
Feigning exasperation, Steve cups his face and murmurs, “I have condoms, sweetheart. Bought them as soon as I met you. Just in case.”
“Fuuuuuuck,” Bucky groans and presses his mouth to Steve’s.
Wet, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses devolve into breathy moans and light biting as Bucky shoves Steve’s shirt over his shoulders. He’s too impatient to wait, too turned on by Steve’s admission that he’s been wanting Bucky for days, so he reaches into Steve’s back pocket and tugs out his wallet.
Pleading with his eyes and words, Bucky moans, “Stop stalling. Just get inside me.”
Smirking at him, Steve presses a kiss to the tip of his nose and asks, “So, you’re gonna bottom for me, huh?”
For a split second, Bucky panics. He’s equally happy to do both, but Steve’s been such a whirlwind force since they met that Bucky just assumed he’d be the one taking charge in the bedroom. Besides, Bucky may be a horny bastard, but he's not fifteen anymore. Steve’s just jacked him off, and it will take him too long to get it up again given how eager they both are to start fucking.
“I just— You— The hallway—” he sputters and punches Steve on the shoulder when he winks.
“I’m just teasing. I figure we’ll switch in the future, but tonight, I really want to bury myself in your gorgeous little ass.”
Shaking his head, Bucky croaks, “The future?”
“Yeah, Buck. There’s another day till Christmas. Unless the sex is terrible, I’m guessing we’ll be fucking more, don’t you? At the very least, I’m planning on being naked with you for most of the rest of our time here. I guess I could be overstepping, but I doubt it.”
“I, uh…”
“There’s time to figure all that out,” Steve assures him as he runs his palm over Bucky’s sticky stomach. “Let’s get you on your hands and knees, Buck. I want to get really deep tonight. Want to be buried so far inside you that I feel like I’ll get lost in there.”
One of his socks comes off as he scrambles to all fours. Steve gives a half-hearted tug intended to remove Bucky’s pants from his ankle but gives up when they don’t move. Glancing over his shoulder, he laughs when Steve doesn’t bother to shed his clothes either. Instead, he tears open a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolls it on quickly.
“Lube?”
Motioning to the bedside table, Bucky tries to steady his mind, but it’s swirling. Everything’s happening so fast—the hand job, half-clothed make out session, condom clad dick, cold fluid dribbled on his crack, blunt fingers probing at his hole. Overcome with excitement and anxiety, he drops to his elbows and buries his face in the covers. Hips rocking slightly, he bites the sheets when Steve’s finger dips inside and stretches him.
“Sweet little hole,” Steve murmurs with humor in his voice. “Look at you on display for me. Preening a little and pushing back against me. You like taking it, don’t you? I bet you love riding dick. This perfect ass is made for it.”
Moaning wantonly, Bucky whimpers Steve’s name as he works his finger deeper inside. It’s been several months since he’s been fucked by anything other than his toys, and he hasn’t bothered to do much of that either. He hasn’t really been in the mood since his last breakup.
Now, though, he’s already leaking, already recovering from blowing in his pants in the hallway. Practically incoherent, Bucky slurs his deepest fantasies and trusts that Steve will act on them if he can. To be fair, what he wants is pretty vanilla—a good fuck in the ass isn’t that much to ask for when he’s already half naked in bed with a man.
When Steve leaves him empty, Bucky moans as he clenches on air, but that’s quickly replaced by a loud moan of approval. Steve’s replaced his fingertip with the blunt head of his thick cock. Pushing back, Bucky whines that he wants it, that Steve should give it to him, but his lover has the patience of a saint. Either that, or he’s the devil incarnate as he teases Bucky with the press and slide of rubber against his slick crack.
“You’re so beautiful,” Steve murmurs as he leans over Bucky’s curved back. “Perfect, beautiful man. Soft, smooth skin. Luscious lips. Silky hair. God, Buck. How are you single? You deserve to have wars fought over you.”
“Steve, please.”
The request is quiet, but it comes from deep within him. He’s so turned on, his nerve endings burning as wave after wave of heat rushes through his body. He’s bent into two, folded over himself. Ass up and face smashed against the mattress, he’s completely at Steve’s mercy. Out of the bedroom, he does normally enjoy being in charge, but there’s something about Steve taking over that turns Bucky’s bones to water.
“Christ,” Steve swears as he inches into Bucky’s willing body. “Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.”
Squirming at the press against his hole, Bucky shoves back. Pushing deeper into the mattress and mouth hanging open, he drools against the sheets as tears build behind his eyelids. He’s being filled so tightly, it feels like he might unravel. Except that’s what he wants—to tip over the edge and feel Steve do the same.
“Please, please, please. Oh, fuck, Stevie. Oh, fuck. Fuck!”
Squirming and desperate for something he can’t name, Bucky groans loudly and begs nonsensically. Stilling inside him, Steve drapes his arms and chest over Bucky’s back and puts his lips to the shell of Bucky’s ear.
“It’s so nice and tight inside you. Just gonna sit here and let you keep me warm for a little while longer. Yeah, honey, I can feel you clamping down on me, trying to push me out and pull me in at the same time.” Steve’s voice drips over Bucky’s skin like honey as he cuddles closer. “How long can you stand it, huh? How long can you keep from shaking apart around me? One minute? Five? A few more seconds?”
“Steve!” he shouts as he clenches tightly. “Jesus, fuck! Oh, god. I can’t. You’ve got to move, Stevie. You’ve got to fuck me. I can’t take it. I’m begging you.”
“And what if I don’t, sweetheart? What if I just keep you here, folded up with my cock so deep inside you that you feel it in your throat?” he teases as he nips Bucky’s ear with his teeth.
Squirming and writhing in Steve’s tight embrace, Bucky wails as pressure builds in his balls. Steve’s strong which is clear since he’s holding Bucky in place as he scrambles in a futile attempt to ease the torture. Fisting the sheets, he rears back as best he can, but he can barely move an inch. It’s just enough of a slight shift to keep him from losing it completely but not enough to bring any sort of satisfaction. He’s never wanted anything as much as he needs Steve to stroke long and deep inside him. He’s desperate for Steve’s thick cock to drag along his walls and…
“Stevie…” he whines.
“You can yell if you want to, honey. I won’t tell anybody. I’m not gonna move though. Not yet. Not until you need it so badly that you might die from it. Fuck, you’re clenching so hard on me. It’s so good. So good, Buck. Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally pull out and then slide back inside your tight little ass.”
Entire body shuddering, Bucky howls at the teasing. Shoving back against him, he sobs and begs, but Steve doesn’t budge. It’s infuriating and the sexiest god damn thing he’s ever experienced. Instead of frantic thrusts, Steve’s simply introducing his dick to Bucky’s ass in a much more intense way.
“You’re being such a good boy. So, so perfect for me, honey. Do you want to turn over? Want to see my face while we do this? Let’s get you in position.”
Bucky sobs in relief when Steve lifts up off him, but he doesn’t pull out. Instead, he puts his massive hands on Bucky’s ass and manhandles him onto his back, literally spinning Bucky on Steve’s cock. For a brief moment, Steve slips free, but then he’s back, deep inside, and wrapping Bucky’s legs firmly around his waist.
Just like when Bucky was on his knees, Steve holds still. This time, he brushes Bucky’s hair off his forehead and neck and presses tender kisses to Bucky’s eyelids, nose, cheeks, and mouth. Bucky fists the sheets as pressure begins building again.
He can’t stop moaning, his voice loud and echoing in the room. Steve answers as he burrows closer. When Bucky squeezes his legs together, Steve shouts Bucky’s name as his eyes droop closed. With a shuddering breath, Steve drags his hips back and roughly snaps them forward as hard as he can.
“Fuuuuuck,” Bucky yelps as the slap of skin on skin echoes around them. “Fucking fuck, Steve. Oh, fucking fu—”
Throwing his head back, Steve’s control seems to snap. Instead of slow, measured strokes, he hammers into Bucky’s ass so fast that Bucky’s teeth rattle in his head. Hooking his legs over Steve’s hips, he can’t do more than hold on as Steve chases something only he can see. Neither of them can stay quiet, both grunting and cursing loudly as Steve fucks him forcefully.
“Steeeeeeve,” he groans, but his voice shakes from the force of Steve’s thrusts. “Sweet Christ, this is— I ca— Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, fuck yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Give me that cock, sweetheart. Give it to me hard. ’S so good. So good. So goooooood.”
Steve’s lost control, thrashing and thrusting into Bucky erratically. His facial expression is almost terrifying—a mix between thunderous and triumphant. Bucky’s hole is on fire, stretched so wide that he’s sure it’ll never pull tight again. There are no regrets, though. Even though he can't actually speak, the noises Steve is driving from him are an enthusiastic chorus of approval.
Blinking open his eyes, he stares at Bucky with a look that’s sheer adoration as he slows his strokes into a longer, slower, deeper thrust. Rolling his hips, Bucky meets Steve’s movements eagerly.
“I’m gonna come soon, Buck,” Steve warns softly. “I’m trying to hold off for you, honey. Trying to let you recover, but, Christ! Jesus, you’re so fucking perfect. I can’t—”
Shivering as he falls silent, Steve’s eyes roll back in his head. Bucky grips Steve’s shoulders and digs his fingertips into solid muscle. He’s practically folded in half again, his thighs almost touching his chest as Steve drives into him. Every nerve ending is on fire, and his balls draw tight as his leaking dick smacks against the smooth skin of Steve’s abs. With a groan, Steve grabs Bucky’s left knee and drags the leg over his shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper. Twisted into a pretzel, Bucky clenches down hard on Steve’s dick and bites his bottom lip.
A strangled groan tears from Steve’s throat as he grinds down and stills. He whispers a series of expletives, and then he shakes apart. Shoulders hunched and hips bucking erratically, he groans loudly as he slurs Bucky’s name.
Steve falls onto him heavily, gasping for breath and moaning as he squirms and shifts. Softening rapidly, he presses his hips tightly against Bucky’s as if he needs to keep fucking him, but he finally gives up. Legs splayed, Bucky grunts at how widely he’s spread open. His hips ache a bit, but he doesn’t want Steve to move. Eventually, though, Steve pushes himself up onto his hands and slowly pulls out of Bucky.
Glancing down, Bucky groans at the sight of Steve’s release trapped in the condom that’s drooping from Steve’s flagging cock. It’s much too soon to go without one, but Bucky misses the squelch of come inside him. If he knew Steve better, knew his medical and relationship history, he’d insist they go without. Maybe that’s something they can try at some point—that is, if they continue to see each other once they’re back in Brooklyn.
Without a word, Steve walks to the bathroom and disappears inside. The sound of water running and the toilet paper roll moving mean Steve’s probably discarding the condom and cleaning up. When he returns a few seconds later, he’s wearing a dazed expression on his face. Crawling back into bed, he tugs Bucky against his chest.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles into Bucky’s mussed hair before falling silent.
Unsure how to react, Bucky waits, enjoying the feel of his cheek against the warm skin of Steve’s chest. The coarse hair on Steve’s thighs rubs the tender flesh of his still half-hard cock, making it perk up again. Bucky doesn’t have any intention of being selfish, but he wouldn’t mind another orgasm. Steve’s so incredibly sexy, that it’s difficult not to be aroused, even if he came in the hallway. That’s been a while now.
Pulsing his hips, Bucky grinds against Steve in quick, shallow thrusts. Steve doesn’t stop him, only drops one hand down to Bucky’s slick crack and skims over the puffy opening that just took Steve’s cock like a champ.
“Go ahead, baby,” Steve whispers. “We can go to my room if we make a mess in the bed.”
Inhaling sharply, Bucky whines as he pushes against Steve’s hip. As spent as he is, that doesn’t stop him from working himself into a frenzy. Encircled in Steve’s arms, legs tangled together, Bucky chases the high. Yelping and keening, Bucky spurts over Steve’s skin and finally slows to a halting, satisfied stop.
He should get up, go to the restroom, shower, something, but he’s too comfortable and way too tired. Steve’s humming a lullaby, a soft, soothing tune that reminds Bucky of his childhood. Too exhausted and comfortable to move, Bucky closes his eyes and falls asleep.
Bucky doesn’t want to wake up because he’s about as comfortable as he’s ever been. Floating and happy, he snuggles into the mattress and pillow. As he does, warm skin glances against his in the most exquisite way. Peeking one eye open, Bucky sighs at the sight of the sculpted muscle of Steve’s chest and his handsome face relaxed in sleep. Overwhelmed with emotion, he whispers into the quiet, “I think I love you.” To Bucky’s relief, Steve doesn’t stir, his head turned to the side so that his profile is illuminated with early morning light.
Moving carefully, Bucky disentangles himself and perches on the edge of the bed. To his surprise, he’s clean. After his sexual escapades the previous evening, he expected to wake itchy and gross. Instead, Steve has apparently bathed him in his sleep. Even more surprising, he feels fresh in all his most intimate places. Glancing over at Steve, who’s still breathing quietly, Bucky finds that his earlier confession is almost certainly true. Anyone who’s as thoughtful, kind, and caring as Steve deserves to be loved completely. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s up for the challenge.
The room’s chilly, which isn’t surprising if the flurry of snow swirling outside the window is any indication. Tugging on a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, Bucky stumbles to the bathroom to quickly relieve himself and then stops at the coffee maker. He wants a cup badly, but the risk of waking Steve is too great. Besides, they’ll need something to eat if Steve wakes even close to the ravenous state of Bucky’s stomach. Grabbing the room service menu, Bucky dials the phone and quietly orders before crossing back to the bed.
Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Bucky can’t help himself. After watching Steve sleep for several minutes, he finally reaches over and traces the curve of Steve’s eyebrows with the tip of his finger. When he doesn’t stir, Bucky brushes over perfect cheekbones and an aristocratic nose that’s obviously been broken a time or two before outlining Steve’s full, pouty lips. Because he’s completely smitten, he leans down and presses his mouth to Steve’s. A rush of longing rips through him. Steve’s right here with him, but Bucky still misses him while he sleeps.
The room’s quiet except for the hum of the heater, but Bucky’s mind whirls with all the possibilities of what’s come from this vacation. More than an escape from the drudgery of his life, this trip has the potential to change everything. The scary thing is that he’s not sure he’s ready for how different things could be if he has the courage to pursue them.
A knock comes from the door, and Bucky hops to his feet to answer it. Room service is there with three trays of food, so he ushers them inside and offers a tip before closing the door behind them. He debates for several seconds before he decides that it’s probably time to wake Steve. The food won’t taste very good cold, and it’s after 9 a.m. If they’re going to get any runs on the mountain before dark, they need to get going.
Leaning over Steve’s frame, Bucky presses butterfly kisses on his forehead and cheek and whispers Steve’s name repeatedly. After what seems like hours, Steve sighs and stretches before his deep blue eyes flutter open and he yawns widely.
“Morning,” he mumbles with a bashful grin. “Don’t make fun of my hair. It goes crazy overnight.”
Running his fingers through the spiky tufts, Bucky grins at Steve’s self-consciousness. “Looks pretty good to me. All of you does.”
“I smell bacon.”
“Yeah, there’s breakfast. Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s Christmas Eve.”
After eating, Steve gives him a kiss before heading back to his room to get his ski stuff. Then, they meet in the lobby before plunging into the cold. The snow’s heavier than Bucky expected, and the wind howls as they ride the lift to the top.
“We’re not doing more than a couple of runs, right?” Bucky asks, his voice quavering as he takes in the rapidly declining conditions.
Squeezing his hand, Steve shrugs. “Sure. I have other plans for you later anyway. Don’t want to get too worn out, right?”
Halfway down the mountain, Bucky’s sure he’s not going up again. He’s freezing, and he can barely see five feet in front of him. When he nearly hits a tree twice in a few hundred feet, Bucky snowplows to a stop and motions for Steve to join him.
“I’ll give you a blowjob if you don’t make me go again once we get down.”
Swiping the snow from his goggles with his gloves, Steve nods. “Definitely worse than I expected. Let’s get back. I’ll buy you some cocoa.”
The lower they get on the run, the gloomier the sky gets. Dark gray and ominous, the clouds obscure the top of the mountain and chase them downhill. Steve leads the way, and Bucky does his best to keep Steve’s ski jacket in sight. Thankfully, Steve stops every few hundred yards to make sure nothing’s happened to Bucky. By the time the lodge is in sight, Bucky’s exhausted and almost weeps in relief.
“Thank fuck,” he whimpers as he releases his skis and steps onto the snow. Fresh powder covers the hard packed snow from the past few days, revealing just how much has fallen since they went up the mountain.
“Hot chocolate and then sauna or hot tub to warm up. Your choice.”
“Thought I was supposed to give you a blowjob,” Bucky teases with a weak laugh. To be totally honest, he doesn’t feel sexy at all right now. Instead, he’s a ball of stress and just wants to savor being back on solid ground.
Tugging Bucky into a hug, Steve murmurs in his ear, “Later, sweetheart. It’s been a day and a half so far. Let’s take some time to relax.”
While Bucky’s shucking off his wet ski clothes, Steve arranges for them to have private access to a hot tub. Bucky has no idea how he’s managed it with almost no notice and on Christmas Eve at a packed ski resort, but he’s not planning on looking a gift horse in the mouth. After a fortifying meal, they slip into the hot tub where Steve pours them both a glass of champagne. Clinking their glasses together, Steve whispers, “To us,” and kisses him sweetly on the lips.
Climbing into Steve’s lap, Bucky straddles him and opens his mouth as the kiss turns torrid. Rocking his hips, he moans when his dick rubs against Steve’s. Somehow, Bucky’s fortunate enough to be half-naked with a beautiful man in a hot tub on Christmas Eve as snowflakes drift and swirl in the air. It’s picture perfect—as meticulously flawless as a Hollywood set of a beautiful winter wonderland.
“We can’t have sex in the hot tub,” Steve warns as he breaks the kiss and then dives back in again. “But we can…fuck…in my room…or yours…or both…”
“Yeah,” Bucky sighs as Steve pinches his nipple, causing pain to jolt through him and straight to his cock.
Singing softly in a teasing lilt, Steve jokes, “All I want for Christmas Eve is one good fuck. One good fuck; oh, just one good fuck.”
“Much sexier than two front teeth. Also, one track mind,” Bucky sighs. He’s not actually upset, though. In fact, he’d be perfectly happy to head back to his room right now and make sure Steve gets his Christmas wish.
In reality, it’s much later before that happens. Instead, they spend the better part of the evening cuddled together, drinking, kissing, talking, and enjoying the beauty of the snowfall. When they finally tumble into bed together, Steve gets his fuck—a long, sexy, earth-shattering one. As Christmas Eve turns into Christmas morning, Bucky wraps himself around Steve’s broad frame and vows to never let go.
Christmas day passes in a post-coital haze with conversations that work their way into Bucky’s heart and soul. Since they just recently met, neither of them is prepared to exchange presents, but it seems like a shame to allow Christmas to pass without any sort of celebration. Giggling and snorting, they stumble down to the convenience store on the bottom floor and give each other strict instructions. Three things, twenty dollars, twelve minutes.
Back in Bucky’s room, they exchange what they purchased and laugh over the reasoning. Bucky bought Steve a candy bar (“Because you’re not sweet enough yet. Except you totally are.”), hand warmers (“Geez, Rogers, quit sticking your freezing fingers in my asshole.”), and condoms (“Put your dick in there instead.”). For his efforts, he gets a punch in the arm and a kiss on the lips. In return, Steve gives him cotton balls (“Because you’re a big softie.”), an energy drink (“You’re gonna need it if you want me to use all these condoms.”), and a bottle of lube (“We’ve kind of used a lot. Didn’t want to run out.”).
After they play with their presents, Bucky lies in Steve’s arms. This latest round of sex makes him feel like he’s hollowed out but also lighter than air and completely boneless. The chemistry between them is off the charts, and he’s wondering how to broach the subject of what happens now that their time together at the lodge is almost over.
Shifting under him, Steve tightens his hold and whispers into Bucky’s hair, “You asleep, Buck?”
“No,” he sighs and presses a kiss to Steve’s bare chest. “Not asleep. Thinking about tomorrow. About how early I have to leave. I’m gonna have to pack at some point, but I really want to stay in bed with you instead.”
“Do you think you have one more round in you? Because, if you do, I’ll help you pack after.”
At first, Bucky plans to protest, but Steve’s already shifted, pulling Bucky back against his front and pressing his half-hard cock into Bucky’s crack. He’s still loose from the last time and pretty much every other one from over the past few days. Sighing happily, he grins lazily as Steve teases his entrance.
Stretching Bucky reaches over his shoulder and pulls Steve’s head close to him. When Steve enters him, he groans as Steve lifts his leg, so he can go deeper. Lying on their sides, they move slowly in a passionate, emotional haze. Easy, deliberate strokes stoke a fire inside Bucky that burns hotter than the sun. Tears spill down his cheeks as Steve makes love to him and cradles him with such tenderness.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Steve whispers when Bucky sobs. “Merry Christmas, baby. Merry Christmas. God, you feel so good on my cock.”
He’s hard and leaking as Steve plunges in and out. Soft grunts bubble in his throat as a warmth grows in his gut and travels to his fingers and toes. Scooting closer, Steve cuddles into him and stills. Throbbing inside him, Steve groans in his ear.
“Bucky, I want— Buck…”
Panting, Bucky whines, “Stevie, I— Oh, God, please!”
Biting into Bucky’s shoulder, Steve whimpers and snaps his hips, slapping his pelvis against Bucky’s ass when he thrusts deep. Writhing, Bucky keens and begs. He’s overstimulated, crazy in love with Steve, and terrified of what the next morning will bring. Leaving this place, heading back to Brooklyn and the real world, feels like the worst sort of curse. Stuffed full, desperate for another release, Bucky clenches and jerks when Steve wails. Howling, Bucky pulses his hips, milking Steve’s release, and driving himself to the edge.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispers. “Oh, fuck!”
He’s a supernova. That’s the only explanation. Why else would be made of nothing but heat and light?
They don’t talk a lot after. There’s not much to say since their time is drawing to a close. After a quick, shared shower, Bucky packs his suitcase, and they crawl into bed together. They don’t talk or sleep or fuck; they simply cling to each other as the seconds tick down.
“What time are you leaving?” Steve finally asks as the outside world lightens enough that it seeps into the room.
Shaking his head, Bucky tries to answer, but his throat’s too tight. He should figure out how the roads are, so he knows how quickly he has to leave to get back to the city before dark. He can’t afford to still be in the mountains driving his sports car when the temperatures drop. Despite his idiocy in driving up here, he doesn’t have a death wish. The trip back to the city’s going to be tough enough emotionally without having to deal with the weather.
“I should probably get going pretty soon,” he admits, although he’d rather do just about anything than leave Steve.
While Bucky gets ready, Steve crosses to the window. Bucky’s got a mouthful of toothpaste when Steve calls his name. Rushing to his side, he tries not to spit as he attempts to figure out what’s upsetting Steve.
“Look out there,” Steve orders, his eyes sparkling. “Buck, look!”
Toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, Bucky turns to face the window and finally realizes what caused Steve’s excitement.
Snow’s still falling hard in massive flakes that look wet and heavy. It’s piled up since they’ve been locked away inside and ignoring the world around them. To be fair, he hasn’t cared much since they got down from the mountain and retreated into the lodge. Now, though, he’s fully aware of what’s been happening, and that means…
“I can’t leave,” Bucky murmurs as his heart stitches back together. “Steve, I can’t leave!”
Dancing from foot to foot, Steve crows, “You can’t leave!”
“And I can’t stay either,” Bucky mutters. “I have to check out. Shit, may even have to sleep in my car.”
Tugging Bucky close to him, Steve laughs and then wrinkles his nose. “Go spit out that toothpaste, so I can kiss you. That’s super gross.”
Bucky puckers his lips like he’s kissing and chuckles as he scoots to the bathroom. Tossing down his toothbrush, he rinses his mouth before jumping into Steve’s arms. Kissing him soundly on the mouth, he teases Steve with the tip of his tongue until Steve shivers and sets him back down on the ground.
“Not so gross now, is it?” Bucky jokes.
“So gross,” Steve scoffs, but it’s obvious he’s not serious. “Now, get your shit. We’re taking your stuff to my room. You’re staying with me until the roads are passable. You can check out when we go down for breakfast.”
Ducking his head, Bucky tries not to be pleased, but he can’t help it. At least a foot of snow has fallen since they’ve retreated inside. There’s no way his car will make the drive now, and he’s not even going to make an attempt. Fortuitously, he gets to stay with Steve in this winter wonderland, and it seems like Steve’s just as excited as he is about it.
“So bossy,” Bucky teases as he grabs his suitcase and sets it down on its rollers. “What if I don’t want to stay with you?”
“There’s not a single chance of that being true, Buck. Besides, all this snow just means we can’t really go outside.” Steve smacks him on the ass and leans close to whisper, “I think I have some kind of idea what we could get up to. You know, what indoor activities might pass the time.”
“Haven’t we already been doing plenty of that for the past few days? Aren’t you tired?”
Eyes closed, Steve leans his head against Bucky’s temple. “I’m never going to get tired of you. Not ever.”
Heart swelling, Bucky puts his hand on Steve’s bare chest and basks in the warmth of his smooth skin.
“How about this? You get dressed because I’m not sharing that gorgeous body of yours with anyone outside this room. It’s only for me,” Bucky teases with a smirk. “I don’t know how many more days we have here, but I don’t want to waste a minute of whatever time we have left.”
It takes longer than it should for them to leave the room, but eventually, they manage to separate themselves. When Bucky checks out, Steve laces their fingers together. After a hearty breakfast, they wander outside to watch the snow for a few minutes, but despite how much sex they’ve had over the last few days, Bucky still can’t keep his fingers from looping into Steve’s belt and finding their way under his shirt.
Leaning over, he puts his lips to Steve’s ear. Whispering softly, he says, “I want to go play with my Christmas presents again. You’re coming too, right?”
“You know I am,” Steve answers with a chuckle.
Bucky manages to get Steve’s shirt untucked and his pants undone before they make it back to the room, and they’re barely inside before Steve drops to his knees and pulls Bucky out of his jeans. Watching him with wide blue eyes, Steve blows him until Bucky threads his fingers in silky blonde hair and fucks Steve’s face so hard that tears stream down his flushed cheeks.
Insatiable and deeply in love, they don’t bother emerging from their cocoon for another two days. Instead, they watch the snow through the windows and take advantage of room service, the walk-in shower, and the king-sized bed. It’s the best Christmas Bucky can remember.
When the roads have been cleared enough that Bucky feels like he can drive his car, he asks Steve to ride back to Brooklyn with him. Instead of dropping Steve off and going home to an empty apartment, Bucky accepts Steve’s invitation to stay through New Year’s. Neither is surprised when they spend it naked together and drinking champagne off each other’s abs.
The best Christmas Bucky’s ever had turns into a spectacular year with the love of his life. By the time the next holiday season rolls around, Bucky shops for a wedding ring along with his other presents. Steve may think he’s sneaky, but Bucky knows from Becca that Steve’s hoping to steal him away from his family again for a few days so they can go back to the ski lodge where they fell in love. As far as Bucky’s concerned, the only way to top the year before is to make sure things between them are permanent. Steve’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears and his lips tremble when he accepts Bucky’s proposal, but Bucky’s there to press his mouth to Steve’s and lend him strength. Neither of them has to spend another holiday alone, and that may be the most perfect gift either of them ever receives.