I knew he didn't trust me right away. None of them do, I know that. Stark, though, makes it especially obvious.

You see, today, he decided it'd be a good idea to have the Avengers (and myself) decorate Stark Tower. The only thing is that he still thinks I'm a goddamned fugitive who's actively trying to kill Steve.

I could never even begin to fathom something so terrible, even considering everything I've done and the monster I'm made out to be.

Even while he thinks that I'm trying to kill Steve, he's still gone and paired us up to decorate together. Mind you, we're the only two working together which makes no sense... either way, it's because Stark doesn't trust me. Whatever.

Ugh...

He's looking at me. I'm zoning out again.

"Barnes," he said, snapping his fingers at me. "Are you listening to me? Hello? Earth to The Winter Soldier; yoo-hoo?"

"That's not my name anymore, Stark, you know damn well th-"

"Yea yea, let's get into the holiday spirit, alright? We've got a lot to do this season, seeing as we're... starting late this year," he added, looking right at me.

Yea, okay, it's my fault. Okay, but not really though. After everything that happened in the spring with Hydra controlling me and trying to get me to kill Steve and wiping my memory repeatedly, the Avengers decided Christmas wasn't exactly their most immediate priority. Destabilizing me was, above everything else, the number one thing not he checklist.

After I snapped out of it (only partially as far as they know but fully as much as I'm aware) they were hesitant to move forward, but happy about it nonetheless.

And so, here we are. It's December 20 and we're decorating for Christmas. But, God, sometimes I hate how crazy and scatterbrained Stark can be.

"Looking at the list I threw together earlier this morning," Stark announced, pulling out a sheet of paper with names on it, "I've got Thor on garland, Nat on cookies and treats, Clint on the star and internal knick knacks, me on the exterior of Stark Tower, Bruce on tree duty... then Cap on lights and ornaments. Alright team, move out!"

I looked at him then at Steve wondering why the hell I didn't get an announcement, but then I remembered. I'm America's most wanted criminal, I don't have feelings, right?

Right.

I followed Steve to a room far down the hall where there had been a mass amount of decorations within our category hidden away in a storage room.

He opened the door with a key Stark had given him and we entered, only to be bombarded with the fear that there may not be enough time in one day to put all of this stuff up correctly.

"Holy Hell," I whispered.

"You're not wrong, Buck, there's a lot of shit in here," he replied, looking around at all of it like I had been. "I guess the best way to do this is to just start wherever. I'll grab a bin and you can too, that way we'll get everything out there faster."

I did what he asked and followed him out to the communal living room, which had just been evacuated, and set the bin down next to his.

We opened them up, and we were off on a decorating spree. Dear God, let this not take literally forever.

And so, we started putting up the lights and any other little things that we happened to find in the closet, because why not. Banner had already brought back a fresh tree from who knows where and so Steve was working on the ornaments and waiting on Clint to get back with the star.

"Steve?" I asked.

"What's up, Buck?" He replied, obviously focusing on the task at hand more than the conversation I was attempting to start up.

"Why does Stark hate me so much?" I continued.

"He doesn't like anyone all, really, if I'm being honest," he said. "I've known him going on three years now and we still haven't really warmed up to one another, you know?"

"I guess," I replied, wishing he'd just look at me for a few seconds. Maybe give me some attention? Give me some sort of sign that he still cares? I hope he still does.I waited about a minute before saying anything else, I didn't want to annoy him... I just really felt like this needed to be said, I guess. "Uhm... Steve?"

"Yea?" he asked.

"Do you still love me like you did all those years ago?"

"What?" he said, shocked, spinning around to look at me. "Buck, wh- do you... what do you mean?"

"I'm not sure." I told him. "It's just been so long since, well, anything's happened I just figured I'd ask."

"Bucky I-"

"I mean, we've gone so long pretending that I don't remember anything in front of the others that it feels like it's bleeding into our relationship too. I just get the felling that you're not in love anymore. You're just used to and comfortable with us."

"I didn't wanna rush you..." he started. "I- I didn't want to freak you out or force something on you that you didn't feel comfortable sharing yet. I hoped that waiting would be the best way to go in terms of you feeling welcome with all of us. How much- uh, well, do you really think I'm not in love with you anymore, Buck?"

"Unfortunately, I do."

"When did this start?" he asked.

"Earlier this month. I wanted to wait to mention it to you though so that I could sort it out in my own head," I admitted. "So that I could be sure that it was really real and not just a figment of my torturous imagination."

He made a face at me at me. "I don't mean that at all. Of course I still love you... I just don't know how to show it in front of everyone else. I don't know how to reveal a secret that we've kept for so long."

I felt my cheek tug at the corner of my lip. "I love you, too," I replied. "I just hoped that meant we could finally tell everyone everything."

"I don't know about that just yet..."

"Steve. It's a new era. If, after everything we've been through together, you still don't want to be public about us then what's the point? I mean, we've been keeping the fact that we had a relationship in the 1930s a secret from the rest of the team since I got my memory of it back in, what, August? Now that we've had one in the present day for nearly four months, you don't want them to know about that, either?" I reached into the box to my right and pulling out more ornaments so that I might be able to help Steve set up the massive tree.

I pulled out a mistletoe. I looked at it like it was a mistake while Steve looked at it like it was an opportunity. Our eyes met as the room seemed to fill with an unrecognizable haze. Like everything else was irrelevant and the only thing that mattered was that, even after all this time, we would still look at one another the same way and feel like no time has passed at all.

"Do you remember our first Christmas really together?" He interrupted the conversation and changed the topic. I wished he would just listen to me, just this once.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well the year is, what? 2014? It was... well, it had to be around 1934, right? God, eighty years ago already," he pointed out. We've known one another for eighty years? Is that even possible? "Anyway, you had been staying over my house almost every night in the week and a half or so leading up to Christmas Day. One morning as I made breakfast after mom left early, you came down an-"

"And stood in the doorway and watched you work, not knowing that you'd been aware of my presence or that I had been under a mistletoe the whole while. Yea, I remember. I remember everything, I told you," I reassured him.

"Do you remember what it was I'd said to you after I called you out for watching me?"

I looked at him and thought for a moment as he stood up and walked over to the couch where I had been, taking the mistletoe from my hands and holding it within his. "No, I don't think I do. What was it?"

"You know, Buck, if you wanna kiss me, just do it already."

Ah, yes, I did remember that, I just wanted to hear him say it once more so that I might feel that flutter within my stomach again just as I had all those years ago. It really didn't feel like a hundred years, anyway, and the fact that I still feel this feeling when I'm around him really goes to show how real it all is.

He looked at my lips as I concentrated on his beautiful eyes. how could I have gone so long not remembering him, of all people? I mean, you'd think I would remember him first... but I suppose remembering everything reverse chronologically makes the most sense anyway, which explains why I remembered Natasha first and-

Shit. I'm zoned out on his lips.

And he's moving closer... ugh, and he smells so good and I can feel his warmth radiating onto my skin and his lips look so wet and fuck I didn't realize how much I loved kissing him until-

He stood up and walked back over to the tree and I snapped out of it. I realized that Stark had just walked in, though, and that's why Steve walked away like that.

If only the great Captain America wasn't so stuck in his ways...

~ James_BuchananBarnes ~