and to all a good night

[semi_stable]

It's been a very long time since Bucky actually celebrated Christmas. It was a big deal growing up, even if his parents didn't always have money for gifts. His mom always at least made them something, like a hand-knitted sweater for him or dresses for his sisters, and his dad always made sure to bring home a hearty meal, even in the toughest of times. It wasn't about the gifts, anyway. Bucky just loved the spirit of it all growing up, the giving and togetherness. He loved the way the lights looked twinkling against the snow, and having snowball fights with friends in the park.

And then came war, where Christmas meant extra whiskey and rations and little else. Then came everything after, where there was no Christmas at all.

Last year, his first Christmas in Darrow, his first in relative peace in almost eighty years, he didn't feel much in the spirit. He bought Bopp some new toys and got Chinese takeout for himself, but the holiday passed with little fanfare.

This year, though. This year is different. He feels himself getting into the spirit, and maybe it's because he has friends and a home. More than that, thanks to Loki and Sylvie, he has family again.

It starts on impulse, with him buying a tree when he passes a cheerful little lot in the city, and then realizing that he needs lights and ornaments for the tree. That leads him to him buying icicle lights to put up across the front of his house, Christmas collars for Bopp and Alpine, and some high quality hot cocoa mix.

He cuts himself off after that, and puts on some classic Christmas songs while decorating his little tree. It makes him happy, along with wistful and nostalgic and so homesick it makes him ache, but he enjoys himself. All he's missing now is his new found family, so he sends a text to the group chat he created with Sylvie and Loki.

Want to spend Christmas Eve at my place?

It takes some doing, but he manages to get Bopp and Alpine together and still in the same photo, sitting in front of the crackling fireplace and decked out in their sparkly collars, and sends that as well. They'll probably find it adorable and ridiculous in somewhat equal measure, and the thought makes Bucky smile.

Comments

[thewrongpath]

Loki had little context for celebrating Christmas. Prior to Darrow, he'd had only a vague concept of its existence, a holiday that was a mishmash of Midgardian religious traditions, the worship of a God far removed from the diverse pantheon of god-like entities tethered by the World Tree.

The previous year, he'd attended parties, paying only the most peripheral of attention to all the excitement. Good food and good drink, he could accept, but he hadn't quite figured out where the fat man in the suit fit in, let alone the celebration of the birth of an infant in a barn.

Still, he'd felt a little out of sorts, as the day approached, uncertain if they were meant to do something for it, if for Bucky's sake, alone. He'd even put aside gifts, ready to whip them out with a flourish if the time ever came. So, when the text arrived, he felt rather relieved.

Standing in the doorway of Sylvie's room, brow arched with amusement, he said, "Shall we let him down easy?" He knew they'd do nothing of the sort.

[the_variant]

"Speak for yourself, I would never disappoint that cat," Sylvie answers from where she's already pulling a dark sweater on over her tank top, leaving the waves of her hair tousled across her forehead. She makes a face and shakes them away, then crosses the room to where Loki is standing.

"Don't pretend you haven't gotten him a gift," she says, hand on his chest, rising on her toes to kiss him warmly. "Text him back, tell him we're on our way. Tell him I want something warm to drink when I get there."

Then she walks past Loki into the bathroom, where she adjusts her hair in the mirror, straightens her sweater, and then heads for the stairs.

[semi_stable]

When Bucky gets a response from Loki saying that they’re on their way, and another demanding warm drinks, Bucky sends back a thumbs up emoji. The tiny image does little to convey the warm, bubbly feeling that knowing that they’re immediately on their way gives him, and he smiles like a dope as he looks over at his animals.

Bopp is laying on her stomach on the rug in front of the fireplace, looking balefully up at Bucky while Alpine pounces repeatedly on her head.

“Sorry, kid. As I was told time and time again,” Bucky tells her with a sympathetic look. “She’s the baby, and we have to love her.”

Bucky puts some milk on the stove to warm up and then goes to change into black lounge pants and a soft cream colored sweater, checking his reflection to make sure nothing is out of place. When he returns to the kitchen, he divides the milk into glasses and spoons in the cocoa mix, stirring it up and adding whipped cream and crushed peppermint.

He can see the icicle lights glimmering outside the kitchen window, and Bucky hums along to the Christmas song on the radio, wistfully familiar, and smiles as he licks the spoon clean.

[thewrongpath]

Chuckling, Loki made quick work of answering Bucky's inquiry, then dressed himself with a quick spell, donning a warm sweater and a wool trench coat. Passing her on the landing, he dropped a kiss to the top of her head, his palm resting briefly against her waist. He held the door for her, smirking, and there was a car pulling up to the curb for them as they stepped out of the townhouse into the chill, night air.

When they pulled up to the house by the sea, Loki smirked, taking in the warm twinkling lights, and the glimpse of more through the wide front windows. He wanted to find it all rather tacky and quaint, but he couldn't help but be charmed.

Holding out a hand to her on the walkway, he said, "Ready to see what this is all about, then?" While he would've had little interest in participating in the holiday on his own, he found himself surprisingly devoid of cynicism as he approached Bucky's door.

[the_variant]

“All the timelines I’ve been in and none were celebrating Christmas,” she admits as she takes Loki’s hand and follows him toward the house. It looks warm and inviting, like a home and Sylvie presses her lips together as they approach the front door.

So many things about the holiday make absolutely no sense to her, but the one thing she’s seen repeatedly mentioned as a theme of the season is family. Love. Home. These are all things she’s never had before Darrow, things she doesn’t entirely know what to do with now that she does have them.

Maybe she’ll learn a little bit more about how to be that person tonight.

“I don’t understand what the man in the red suit has to do with anything,” she tells him, tells them both, as Bucky is opening the door.

[semi_stable]

When a car pulls up in front of the house, Bucky and Bopp both lift their heads excitedly and get to their feet, and he chuckles to himself as he heads for the door, catching Sylvie in the middle of a sentence.

"Santa Claus. He's basically a story parents use to blackmail their kids into behaving all year," Bucky says, smiling widely at the sight of them. He steps aside to let them in, planting a kiss on each of their cheeks before closing the door behind them.

Bopp comes over to greet them, and Bucky turns to once again extract Alpine from the base of the tree. She lets out a shrill cry of protest as Bucky deposits her on the sofa, and he turns to look at them again, unable to wipe the smile from his face. "Here, let me take your coats."

[thewrongpath]

A bit bemused, Loki was drawn inside, taking in the little tree and twinkling lights, and the warm, contended smile on Bucky's face. He could've easily done away with his own coat, but there seemed something ritualistic in given them over to their host, so he shrugged out of his and handed it over.

"What happens to the naughty children? Something tells me they're not eaten by the Claus monster on Christmas night," Loki said, with something akin to playful disappointment.

[the_variant]

"What a good host," Sylvie teases as she slips out of her coat and offers it to Bucky before she makes her way toward Bopp and drops into a crouch in front of the dog.

While scratching her ears, she says, "Krampus. Maybe Krampus eats them."

She had learned a little about the thing called Krampus up at Kagura, mostly against her will, from shrieking college students. The rest, she had filled in on her own, reading articles online, and coming to the conclusion that shrieking college students tended to be idiotic.

[semi_stable]

"In some cultures, yeah. Krampus eats them," Bucky says with a chuckle, going into the kitchen to grab the tray of mugs. It's all a little sappy, but they haven't made fun of him yet. "In America, the naughty kids just get lumps of coal instead of presents. Much lower stakes."

He sets the tray down on the coffee table and sits down on the middle cushion of the sofa, where Alpine immediately hops onto his shoulder, flopping over and them tumbling down the front of his chest to land in his lap. Bucky can't help but to laugh, and he marvels once again at just how much honest joy these animals give him.

"I made hot chocolate." He gestures at the tray and then looks over at Sylvie, smiling as Bopp licks at her face. The dog then goes over to Loki to rub against his thighs and give him a proper greeting, demanding affection in a shameless way, and Bucky wishes that he could bottle this feeling, tuck some away for the really bad days. "It has peppermint. Very traditional."

[thewrongpath]

"Coal? How uninspired," Loki said, nose wrinkling. He'd wanted for little as a child, and could hardly fathom the disappointment of a child not getting everything they wished for, but as punishments went, it was rather bland.

Still a bit bemused, Loki dropped to his haunches to give Bopp a proper greeting, while eyeing Bucky with naked curiosity.

"And you're feeling particularly traditional this year?" Loki asked, though the real question, of course, was why?

[the_variant]

"Must be this traditional relationship," Sylvie answers, knowing both Loki's question and Bucky's answer, even though neither of them have outright said anything. Her answer may be a bit sarcastic, as there's nothing traditional about the three of them, but she knows the value Bucky places on home and family.

Once, she'd felt the same, before it was all taken. Now she isn't sure what she feels, but if nothing else, she can be here tonight. It's a place to start.

She rises while Loki greets Bopp, then drops onto the couch beside Bucky, one leg smoothly crossing over the other before she takes one of the mugs. The smell wafting up with the steam is comforting, soothing, and Sylvie breathes deep over the mug rather than immediately taking a sip.

[semi_stable]

“Ah, yes,” Bucky says with a low sigh, reaching out to put his metal hand on Sylvie’s knee once she’s settled next to him. “I always knew that I’d settle down with two gods with interchangeable genders.”

When he was young, Bucky did want the traditional family— the wife, a couple of kids, the house with the white picket fence. A part of him still does, but it’s more of a wistful fantasy to think about on rainy days. He isn’t the person who wanted those things anymore.

Kids would be nice, but he doesn’t think that he’d be all that great at being a father, and Sylvie has told him that she can’t get pregnant by him anyway. He doesn’t think she would want kids even if she could.

It’s probably better to not being children into such a chaotic world, and he’s fine with that. More than he ever thought he’d be when he was young.

“This is just the first Christmas that I’ve felt even a little at peace in almost a century. I know that isn’t very long for you two,” Bucky says, then pauses to swallow hard. He doesn’t like to think about how he’ll age while they stay relatively the same, so he won’t. They’ll cross that bridge when they come to it and Bucky thinks it would be hubris anyway, assuming that he’ll live to see old age.

He takes a sip of his cocoa and licks whipped cream from the corner of his mouth, squeezing Sylvie’s knee while smiling softly up at Loki. “But it’s more than a lifetime for me.”

[thewrongpath]

"Good to know we've fulfilled that childhood dream of yours," Loki said, moving to slither his way onto the couch on Bucky's other side and leaning across him to claim the last mug of hot cocoa.

"It's long enough. Quite a lot has changed for both of us in the last few years, I think," Loki pointed out, catching Sylvie's eyes and sharing with her a knowing smile.

[the_variant]

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sylvie answers as she kicks off her combat boots, leaving them on the floor. She twists, leaning against the arm of the couch and stretches her legs across both their laps.

It has been nearly a year and a half for her in this place. It's the longest she's spent anywhere outside of Asgard, the home she just barely remembers. The longest she's spent with any one person and here she is, sipping hot cocoa, with two.

"Was that interchangeable genders comment a hint?" she asks, then nudges her toes against Loki's thigh. "I do make a terribly handsome man."

[semi_stable]

“Oh, such a dream wouldn’t have even occurred to me as a child,” Bucky admits with a chuckle, smiling as Sylvie drapes herself across their laps. Bucky holds his mug in his good hand and puts his metal hand on Sylvie’s knee, thumbing at the knob of bone. Her comment makes him laugh again, pressed against Loki from shoulder to hip to thigh, and he isn’t sure that he’s even been this content.

“You do. I thought so that time I saw you at City Hall,” Bucky admits, squeezing Sylvie’s thigh as he looks between them. “That was before Loki showed up, and I almost asked if I could fuck you like that.”

It makes him blush to admit it, but it had been on the tip of his tongue because it had been so long since he’d been with a man. But that had been back when he’d convinced himself that Sylvie wasn’t interested, so he didn’t.

“Good thing I waited, huh?” He asks as he turns to give Loki a look that’s fond and smug all at once, cheeks still flushed.

[thewrongpath]

"Well, now I'm jealous," Loki said with mock sincerity. "You've seen something I haven't," he said to Bucky, cutting Sylvie a playfully arched brow.

At Bucky's question, Loki's smugness faltered, of only briefly. His hand rested against Sylvie's ankle, gently kneading the deceptively delicate bone. "I'm not sure I understand you're meaning," he said, purposefully obtuse. Cutting a look to Sylvie he asked, "Is he saying he'd prefer to be watched?"

[the_variant]

"You just seem to like me so much like this," she answers, nudging Loki with her toes before she relaxes once more. His thumb against her ankle is intimate, gentle, something she wouldn't have allowed him -- or anyone -- not so long ago. Bucky's hand on her knee is the same.

The first time they were together, she'd told him she wasn't afraid of the strength in his metal arm, and she isn't. She hadn't been at the time. This, though, is just more proof of what she'd already known; whatever he thinks of the his arm, he's capable of great gentleness with it.

"Hmm," she says with a slow hum. "That or he prefers to do the watching. I can't be certain, so we should probably do both, just to test the waters."

[semi_stable]

“Oh, I think that I would prefer to be involved,” Bucky says with a low chuckle, though the thought of watching them together is an appealing one. “I’m not sure that I could keep my hands to myself.”

As if to prove his point, Bucky’s metal hand shifts from Sylvie’s knee to the inside of her thigh, slowly sliding it up until it’s a mere inch or so from the apex of her thighs. His fingertips just barely brush the seam between her legs, and then he slides his hand back down, smirking over at Loki as he does.

“Though, she did sort of just lay herself across us like an offering,” Bucky says in a warm, teasing voice, reaching over to take Loki’s hand and place it on the warm inside of Sylvie’s thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Almost as if she wants something. But what could it be?”

[thewrongpath]

"Oh, don't look at me. This is your show, isn't it," he said to Bucky, a playful spark in his eyes as they met Sylvie's, his hand drifting obediently up the inside of her thigh.

"He certainly is forward, isn't he? We haven't even finished our chocolates."

[the_variant]

"Nor have I received any presents," Sylvie answers, a smile curving her lips as Loki's hand drifts higher, though she shifts her gaze from him to Bucky. Someone might not think she would be a woman capable of innocence, and they'd be right, but she's had to play at a lot of things in order to live for this long and innocence has been one of them.

It's at least effective enough to give Bucky a wide-eyed expression.

"I believe I was promised a man in a red suit would bring me gifts," she says to him. "Were you lying?"

[semi_stable]

"How did we get here so fast?" Bucky asks with a happy, incredulous laugh. They've just sat down together, hot chocolate in hand, and already Bucky feels a little lightheaded with lust. Sometimes with them, it feels like he's trying to make up for lost time, all the decades that this part of himself sat severed from the rest of his mind. They brought him back to life, in that regard.

"Oh, I wasn't lying," he says to Sylvie, keeping his hand on top of Loki's as it slides up the inside of her thigh. The innocent expression on her face makes Bucky want to reach out and touch her, smear her lipstick with his thumb, but somehow he resists. "But only good girls get presents, I'm afraid."

A little corny, yes, but she set him up too perfectly.

[thewrongpath]

"Oh, did you hear that?" Loki said to Sylvie, looking playfully scandalized, "Was that a judgement of your character?"

With a smirk, he said, "Leave it to humanity to tie strings to their gift giving ceremonies."

[the_variant]

"Politest judgement of my character I've ever heard," Sylvie answers, nudging Loki's thigh with her toes. "I'm not shocked, he's such a gentleman, after all."

Her gaze shifts to Bucky and she puts her hand on top of his, the one he has on top of Loki's. The hands they have sliding up her thigh.

"Funny, considering I've been on the best behaviour of my life since I got here," she adds. "Or does the best of bad not count for the man in the red suit?"

[semi_stable]

"Well, I think you've been very good," Bucky replies as he stretches the arm holding his mug along the back of the sofa. His other hand is buried under theirs, warm against Sylvie's inner thigh, and he slides it up between her legs, over her hip and under her shirt to touch the soft skin of her stomach. Loki has to lean forward to follow the movement, putting his face near Bucky's, and he smiles as he leans in to bite playfully at his jaw. "Both of you."

He kisses the spot he bit and slides their joined hands back down until he can pluck open the button of Sylvie's jeans and slowly pull down the zipper. "And I'm almost certain that I give better gifts than Santa, anyway."

[thewrongpath]

"He talks big, doesn't he?" Loki murmured, smiling against Bucky's jaw as he leaned in to follow the path of his hand, their fingers laced together over the softness of Sylvie's stomach.

Pulling back momentarily, he took one last sip from his mug then, with a flick of his wrist, it seemed to disappear and reappear safely on the coffee table.

"But now I know he's lying. I've never been accused of being good in my life."

[the_variant]

"Nor I," she agrees. "Clearly he's full of shit."

These words, ones that could be harsh, especially coming from her, are almost fond as Sylvie tilts her head a little to watch them better. Their hands are warm on her skin and she lifts her hips a little, encouraging them both.

"Does Santa not arrival with blowjobs and orgasms for the parents?" she asks, at this point entirely giving Bucky a hard time for the sheer joy of it. "Only obnoxious toys for the children? That hardly seems like a tradition worth keeping."

[semi_stable]

"Have you considered that maybe Santa and I have wildly different definitions of good?" Bucky asks, smiling because this is a ridiculous conversation, and they're both basically making fun of him, but he's happy. "Besides, I give better head than him, for sure."

Sylvie's hips rock up a little, but Bucky is content to take his time, sliding his palm slowly along Sylvie's hip, then across her stomach just above the line of her underwear to the other side, fingertips gliding along the curve of her rib and then higher, just under her bra. Loki's hand stays on his the whole time, fingers slotted together as they travel slowly across her soft skin. Bucky takes a sip from his cocoa and then turns his head to look at Loki, holding his mug out with a coy, questioning pout.

"Can you free up my other hand?" He asks with a laugh, leaning toward him in search of a kiss as he leads their hands up under Sylvie's shirt to rest between her breasts, thumb stroking softly along the edge of one of the cups of her bra.

[thewrongpath]

"Certainly," Loki murmured, smirking as he took Bucky's mug, which reappeared on the coffee table in the same manner as his own. Their hands venturing under Sylvie's sweater, Loki curved his palm, warmed from the mug, against the back of Bucky's neck and pulled him into a kiss. A kiss for the two of them, but for her as well, knowing she was watching them both intently.

His thumb brushed over her nipple through the simple cotton of her bra just as his tongue slipped between Bucky's parted lips, one act in counterpoint to the other, as if the three of them made a flowing circuit.

[the_variant]

They're beautiful together. Even if she weren't part of this, she would think so, although some part of her would be broken, left on the outside. It occurs to her often how dangerous this is, the way she's allowed them to get inside, get under her skin, into her heart, beyond her defenses.

Truly, she'd been doomed long before Darrow, stomping around in those first weeks, furious with Loki for not being here and furious with herself for wanting him. There likely wasn't ever a point in trying to resist any of this.

It was dangerous to give in, but she's glad she did.

Her hand comes up to cover theirs beneath her shirt, her own mug disappearing and reappearing on the table as well as she arches into Loki's touch against her nipple. The fingers of her other hand sneak up toward the back of Bucky's neck as well where she meets Loki's fingers, threads her own through his.

"If this is my gift, it's very pretty," she murmurs, smirking slightly, her head tipped against the couch cushion.

[semi_stable]

This isn’t why Bucky invited them over tonight. He’s feelings for both of them go so far beyond the physical and he just wanted them here with him on this night that used to feel so special, but he can’t deny how good it feels to be touched by them, both of them at once, whether it be fervent and rough, or like this— soft and tender, for now.

He spent decades only getting touched when it was meant to hurt, incapacitate, or subdue, and now he gets to have this, them, making him feel good, wanted and warm and safe, which is something he wasn’t sure that he’d ever feel again.

They would both raze the earth to protect him, and while he’d would say that he doesn’t need protecting, it means the world to him to know that they’d do it anyway.

Loki kisses him in a way that’s sweet and full of promise, and at the same time almost lewd, because Sylvie is watching and Loki is nothing if not a good showman. Bucky likes that she’s watching, and heat sparks low in his belly even as his cheeks flush slightly. Sylvie’s hand threads with Loki’s at the back of his neck and Bucky lets out a pleased sound against Loki’s mouth, happy to be between them, happy to let them do anything at all.

Bucky only pulls away from the kiss when he needs to breathe, lips red and eyes dark as he looks at Loki and then over at Sylvie. He smiles at the comment and then leans over to kiss her on the mouth, licking between her lips as he drags her shirt up and tugs down one of the cups of her bra until her breast spills out of it. He looks at Sylvie, then kisses her chin, then her neck, working his way down until he kisses her nipple, then Loki’s fingertips, licking at the pad of his thumb before pulling Sylvie’s nipple into his mouth to suck lazily at it, bottom teeth catching on the tight bud.

With Loki’s hand framing her tit, it’s almost like he’s feeding it to Bucky, and that makes him shiver with pleasure, lashes fluttering as he sucks harder.

[thewrongpath]

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Loki murmured absently, his mouth going dry as he watched the pink of Bucky's tongue circling Sylvie's nipple, his own fingers curved around the swell of her breast. His other, he worked beneath her to flick open the clasp of her bra, then he was reaching for the hem of Bucky's sweater, rucking the soft fabric up the other man's torso.

For the moment, he was happy to sit back and watch them, a deep, startling affection nearly overwhelming his growing lust. It was absurd, feeling such things for anyone, let alone these two. A goddess, who happened to be a version of himself, and a super soldier who'd once fought alongside his enemies.

And yet, here he was.

[the_variant]

“Don’t think for a second the two of you can distract me from presents with sex,” Sylvie says, a blatant lie evident in the breathlessness of her voice as Loki unhooks her bra. As ever, her underwear is simple, practical, black cotton, but somehow when she’s with them, even the simplest things make her feel utterly beautiful.

Her back arches slightly, pressing herself into Loki’s hand, Bucky’s mouth, and she wants to be touching them both so badly. Pinned to the couch by Bucky, though, she can only open her eyes and meet Loki’s gaze as he pushes up Bucky’s sweater.

“Come here,” she says to him, one hand on Bucky, her palm warm against the back of his neck, the other reaching for Loki. “Kiss me.”

[semi_stable]

“Maybe this is your present,” Bucky says as he moves his mouth from one breast to the other to give both nipples equal attention. He’s lying, of course, because he has gifts for both of them, but he can’t fathom leaving this sofa right now.

Loki drags up his sweater and Bucky only sits up so he can pull it over his head and toss it aside. For a moment, he just sits there and watches them kiss, one hand on Loki’s back while the other toys with Sylvie’s nipples. He’s never jealous of them, but sometimes he feels a little insecure that they’ll tire of him, but that just means that he’s still human.

Right now, he just feels lucky to be here with them, and when he leans in to kiss Loki’s neck, he knows that he’s welcome here, between them. His lips make a path along Loki’s jaw while he tugs Sylvie’s bra off her arms, then lifts Loki’s sweater. When they break their kiss, Bucky pulls it over his head and then grabs Loki’s chin, kissing him deeply, licking messily into his mouth so Sylvie can watch.

They’re both on their knees, kneeling together over Sylvie’s body, and Bucky slides his metal hand down to grip at Sylvie’s cunt through her pants, rubbing his palm against it as his other hand slides up Loki’s side. He feels overwhelmed by all the possible combinations of their bodies, cock tenting his jeans as he breaks the kiss with Loki to press his mouth to Sylvie’s, licking between her lips as he grinds his hand against her.

Then, on a whim, he lays down along Sylvie’s side, tucked between her body and the back of the sofa. He props his head up on one hand and slides his metal hand down her pants and into her underwear, circling his cool fingertips almost casually around her clit.

“What should we have him to do us?” He asks Sylvie almost playfully, like they’re gossiping at a sleepover, and then looks up at Loki with a mischievous grin. “I say we put him to work.”