Very Merry Rivals

Chapter 4

            Bucky's hand curls around yours tightly as you drag him toward the dance floor. His heart is beating loudly and if it weren't for the music blaring from the speakers, he'd be certain you could hear it. You let go of his hand and begin to freestyle, and Bucky...he stands there awkwardly. It's not like he doesn't know how to. He does, and he's really good at slow dancing. Leading a leady into a romantic waltz? He's got it. Swing dancing? Not too shabby. But free style dancing like nobody's watching? He's got some trouble with that.

You pause and tilt your head. "Bucky, what are you doing? Are you okay?"

Bucky wipes his palms against his pants and scoffs. "I don't know what's more concerning, the fact that you called me Bucky or that you're asking about my wellbeing."

You roll your eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, I do care for you sometimes."

"Aw, that's cute, sugarplum."

"Don't push it, Barnes. Why aren't you dancing?"

"There she is." Bucky chuckles before answering. "I'm not a good dancer."

"Just dance like nobody's watching."

"But they are watching. And I'd rather not make a fool of myself."

"Come on. For me?"

You smile and him and his stomach flips. He wishes you would stop making giving him reasons to love you. He glances around and no one is really looking at him, everyone seems way too drunk, and the lights are turned down low.

"Fine." He sighs before doing the bear minimum of rolling his shoulders.

You laugh. "There you go! Now just move the rest of your body."

He moves a bit more and groans. "I'm super uncomfortable right now, but I hope you're happy."

You laugh again. "I am."

And Bucky can't stop himself from beaming at you.

~~~~~

Once the door to Bucky's car closes, and he quickly turns on the heater. The both of you shiver. You both look at each other and chuckle.

"Sometimes I forget how cold it can get." You breath.

Bucky nods. "Same."

You both sit in silence. The car heater blasting on the both of you. Bucky clenches and unclenches his hands. A nervous habit of his. He lets out a deep breath before grabbing the steering wheel and pulling out of the parking lot.

"I'm sorry," You say, breaking the silence and causing Bucky to glance at you. "About the kiss. I know I'm not that good of a kisser, and that was probably annoying—"

"You are." Bucky swallows down the lump forming in his throat. "A good kisser, I mean."

You look and him and he quickly back tracks. "I mean, you're not the worst I've had. But definitely not the best, ya know?"

"Right." You say quietly before looking out the window. "You weren't the best I've had either."

He wants to kick himself. You were by far the best person he's ever kissed. Way better than he imagined. He loved the way you fit perfectly against him and how soft you felt. Your lips tasted like peppermint, and he didn't want to the kiss to end, and he knows you were just putting on a show for Brock, but an ounce of him had hoped you had enjoyed it as much as he had. He pulls up to your house and you quickly open the passenger door.

His hand reacts before his brain can, and it wraps around your wrist. "Wait!"

You look at him before looking at your connected hands. Bucky pulls away quickly as if you had burned him and clears his throat. "I had had a nice time, really. I did. We still up for getting a tree tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Of course, we are. You doubting my abilities to pick out the perfect tree?"

"No, I just—"

"Goodnight, Barnes."

"Goodnight, sugarplum."

~~~~~

"I think this is the one." You say as you circle around the tree. "Mmhm. Perfect."

You watch as Bucky looks the tree over, blue eyes judging each pine needle.

"I don't know. Seems a bit too perfect."

You let out a noise of disappointment. "What do you mean? I thought you wanted the perfect tree to set up for your grandma. I know high quality when I see it, unlike you."

"A perfect tree has a bit of character to it. A couple uneven branches, maybe a few missing needles. Maybe a one who hasn't seen the brightest days, but it doesn't make him any more undeserving of love." Bucky's voice had gotten a bit more aggressive, and you eye him carefully.

You shove your gloved hands into your coat pockets. He'd never really gotten so assertive in your arguments, and you're worried you've hit a nerve. "We're still talking about the tree, right?"

His eyes widen for a second before he nods and looks away. "Of course, I'm talking about the tree. What else would I be talking about?"

You shrug. "Nothing. You just seemed really passionate about the tree, and I hadn't seen that before."

"Yeah, well, I am." He reaches down and grabs his chainsaw. "You might wanna stand back. I don't want you getting hurt."

You watch as he cranks the chainsaw, and it buzzes to life. You're mesmerized as he cuts through the trunk of the tree, his muscles moving underneath his flannel jacket. The tree topples over and falls into the snow.

"We could have picked a different one." You say as he grabs the tree and begins dragging it to the truck he borrowed from Steve.

"No, you're right. It's perfect." He says before throwing it into the back of the truck with a low grunt.

Your face flushes with heat as you watch him. Okay, so that was way hotter than you expected it to be. He brushes the snow off of him and looks at you. You quickly look away, hoping he doesn't realize how much watching him throw a tree into a truck turned you on.

"Come on, sugarplum. We don't got all day!" Bucky says as you realize he's already hopped into the driver's seat.

"Sorry." You force out before walking toward the truck. "I, um, I got distracted by a squirrel."

You don't know what side of Bucky you saw for a spilt second when you argued about the tree, but you sensed it was something way more personal than a tree and decided to let it go. And maybe he was just having an off day, you had those plenty of times. He gave you a small smile as you hopped into the passenger seat. Maybe you were just overthinking this whole situation. You looked out the window just as Bucky started to lowly hum along to a Christmas song on the radio station.