I Promise.

The Hanukkah Spirit!

Chapter 27
I haven't heard my phone go off at all yesterday so I thought I didn't get any messages, but apparently I was wrong. Steve was still asleep and hanging onto my back, so I decided to grab my phone and check my messages. The first one was from Clint.
[Hawkeye 12:07 AM] Glad to see you smiling again.
I chuckled to myself. I'm glad that they care, I just wish that I would've seen it last night. I also find myself laughing even harder. I forgot that I changed his nickname to this because he said that when he was younger he named his superhero persona "Hawkeye." It's a constant reminder of his stupidity, and his obsession with becoming a huge archer superhero. He's a total dork.
[Bucky 8:24 AM] Glad that you guys care. Means a lot to me.
I knew that he won't respond. He normally gets up super late. He stays up all night on weekends. I then check my other messages. One of them was from "Rescue", which is Pepper. Tony gave her that nickname when she saved Bruce from choking on a grape. She practically saved his life. The thought of Bruce choking on a really small grape still causes me to chuckle. We were all confused as to how it happened.
[Rescue 12:03 AM] You looked so happy! I love it!!! ;P
"God, she even types like she's happy." I thought to myself.
[Bucky 8:25 AM] Last night was great. I missed you guys.
[Rescue 8:26 AM] We missed you too! We care about you so much! <3 xoxo
I didn't expect her to respond so quickly. It kind of shocked me.
[Bucky 8:26 AM] same here.
It was now time to check my last set of messages. The last person was Tony, who only said:
[Iron Man 12:09 AM] suck his dick. ;)
I didn't even respond to it. I just immediately closed my phone and turned to face Steve. I pulled him closer to me, and I breathed him in. He smelled so unbelievably good. He smelled like a strange mix of cherries and vanilla. I'm not exactly sure how, but I guess it's just a permanent scent. I just realized how much I missed holding him this close. He's so cold compared to my warm skin, it feels amazing. Everything about him feels amazing. The fact that I can call him mine is unbelievably incredible. I've wanted this for so long. For as long as I could remember I was obsessed with tiny little Steve. My dad used to tease me for "being in love" with "Sick Steve." My dad always had that nickname for him. He would even call him that to his face. It never bothered Steve, in fact it reminded him of the feeling of having a dad. Steve's dad passed when he was young, so he's never really experienced having a father. My dad would always tease him like a father would, all in good fun. My dad loved Steve. Sometimes I thought he loved Steve more than me.
  "Buck?" Steve groggily mumbled.
  "Yeah?" I asked back. I felt him shifting from under me. He was trying to wiggle himself free from my arm. He probably was trying to sit up.
  "Time?"
  "9:00 on the dot." I responded. My family was coming at around 12:00, so we had to clean beforehand. Them spending all of Hanukkah with us is probably the worst possible news I've ever received. My reasons:
Less time with Steve. More time on couch alone.
Gramma Hubbard can be an asshole
Aunt Ida is going to constantly talk about my arm being gone and about how much she misses my dad. I really don't want that reminder.
Steve is going to be staying in the guest bedroom. Originally, that was going to be his permanent room when he moved here. However, it never worked out because he would always camp out in my room anyways. We then opted for taking his bed from his old apartment and putting it in my room, making the space fit for two. Plus, my room is the only other room with a bathroom in it. Our house has a strange layout. My mom has her master bedroom and a master bathroom, there's the guest bedroom with no bathroom in it, a half bath in the hallway, and my room with a full bathroom in it. I guess Steve and I will still have to take showers in here even when my family comes over. Aunt Ida and Gramma Hubbard are staying in our room, so we are going to be kicked out of it. Steve and I kept arguing about who would sleep on the couch and who would sleep in the room. Steve kept saying he'd feel bad if he slept in the room and that he's small enough to fit on the couch, while I'm way too large. I countered that by saying that the couch is leather and gets too cold, and that he'd be more comfortable in a warm bed. Eventually, after hours of argument, he finally let me get the couch.
  "We're gonna have to start cleaning soon." Steve groaned into his pillow. I really felt that in my soul.
  "What if we leave it a mess and they just leave?" I joked. He started to laugh.
  "Now that's the Hanukkah spirit." He choked through his laughs. I couldn't help but laugh at his joke too. I guess my mom was able to smell our fun from a mile away, because she came to the door and ushered us out of the bed. She forced us to get dressed and assist her in the cleaning.
  After about two hours of cleaning, we heard a car pull up into the driveway. My mom and I looked at each other in panic.
  "Shit. They are early!" We said in unison. Steve just looked confused.
  "Is that bad?" He asked. My mom and I started rapidly shaking our heads yes. After I heard their feet scuffle to the front door, I ran over to Steve and planted a kiss on his lips.
  "Had to get one last one out." I laughed.
  "Don't worry, I'm sure we can find a way to get some more in." He winked at me. My mom started aggressively snapping at us to shut the fuck up, and promptly opened the door. I have to admit, I'm insanely nervous. They've never seen me without the left arm. I don't want them to think I'm a freak. I also don't want them to get all sad about my dad. Another thing I'm worried about is them getting upset about Steve's mom. Steve's mom would always come over during New Years and Thanksgiving. Our parents became good friends once Steve and I met. I just don't want anyone to mention it. My mom, Gramma, and Aunt immediately started hugging each other and saying how much they missed each other. I never realized how much Aunt Ida resembled my dad until now. The dark brown hair and steel blue eyes made them look like twins. In fact, even I look exactly like them. We could probably all pass as siblings. I am a spitting image of my father.
  "Oh, Bucky." I heard my Gramma call out. I could hear the pity in her voice. I really hate this.
  "Hi Gramma!" I said, putting on my fakest smile.
  "Poor baby. Your poor arm." She said while practically squeezing me to death. I heard my mom loudly cough. She probably wanted my Gramma to let go.
  "Sorry, just some allergies." My mom choked out while winking at me.
  "Savior." I mouthed to her. She was standing behind me, so my Gramma couldn't see. Hubbard finally let go of me and went straight to Steve. Whenever Steve was over he was the center of attention. Everyone wanted to shove food down his throat because of how small he is. He really is the main attraction.
  "Stevie! You've gotten so big!" Hubbard exclaimed, pulling him into an even tighter hug than mine.
  "He hasn't grown since third grade. You must've gotten shorter, Gramma." I teased. My mom then slapped the back of my head. I must've audibly expressed my pain, because I heard a "deserved it" come from Steve.
  "The more I see you, the more you look like you're father. How are you doing, James?" Aunt Ida walked over and asked. One thing I hate is that my relatives call me "James". My nickname came from Steve, and my parents just caught onto using it. Steve and I have really known each other since like first grade, so my parents were just used to hearing Bucky every time he was over. Every fiber of my being wanted me to say "great before you mentioned my dad.", but I refrained from doing so. I didn't need to be sassy and rude.
  "I'm doing pretty good. The whole arm thing is still strange to me though." I said, offering her a small half smile. She grabbed my hand and put it in hers.
  "That's fantastic to hear." She smiled. I turned to look at Steve, but he wasn't there. He was probably being a gentleman and picking up their luggage. He's always been modest. I led my Gramma and Aunt to the sofa so we could have small talk there. My mom and Steve emerged from upstairs and joined us on the couch. My mom sat next to Aunt Ida, and Steve sat next to me on the end of the sofa.
  "So, how have you boys been doing. How's living together?" My Gramma asked.
  "Fantastic!" I said way too quickly. I definitely sounded eager to answer that question. My mom choked on her tea and started laughing.
  "It's been great. I think I'm finally starting to register that this is my home." Steve said, immediately following it by sipping his coffee.
  "When the fuck did we make coffee?" I thought to myself. My Gramma soon interrupted my coffee thoughts.
  "It must be hard on you, Steve. Losing your mom and then George." Both of our breaths hitched. The loss of our parents still was a sore spot for both of us.
  "Well, I'd say I'm fairly lucky. I came out of my mom's death with both of my arms. Besides, I was already expecting her to die. I just wish it would've been me instead." Steve shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee again. His eyes looked so sad. I hate that they keep bringing up his mom.
  "James, I hope I'm not intruding, but can I ask you a question?" Aunt Ida asked politely.
  "Sure. As long as it isn't weird." I teased.
  "Can you still feel your arm?" She looked intrigued. I thought to myself for a moment. There are times when my body registers my arm as still being a part of my body. It feel sensations like it's there, but it's not. I talked to my doctor about it and he said it was Phantom Limb pains. A lot of amputees have these same feelings. Thankfully, mine aren't too painful. It could be a lot worse. I looked up and everyone looked intrigued. I feel like a contestant on a game show.
  "Yeah. Yeah I can. The feeling comes and goes. It's really painful, mentally and physically." I choked out. I hated admitting that I was in pain. I don't want to be a burden.
  "I can't imagine losing my arm." My Gramma announced.
  "Neither could I, until I lost it." I stated. Hopefully I didn't come off as harsh.
  "Was it painful? The car crash." Aunt Ida asked. I know she means well, but I hate this topic. I don't even talk about this to my mom or Steve. Most of the time I act like I can't remember my arm practically being ripped away from me. I guess it's only fair that I answer her question though. I took a deep breath before explaining what it was like.
  "My arm got hit directly from the impact. It was stuck under the door while the rest of my body was being tossed as a rag doll while the car flipped over. I felt like my arm was being torn apart from my body. I'm surprised it wasn't gone before they surgically had to remove it. I remember trying to grab at Dad, but I couldn't even move my left arm. I didn't even want to look, it was disgusting." I explained. That's the most I've ever told anyone about losing my arm. I looked over and Steve was just staring at me in shock. In fact, everyone is.
  "Well, that answered her question." My mom choked out. She looked pale.
  "Was he screaming?" I heard Gramma Hubbard whisper. She had tears in her eyes. I felt like I was obligated to tell them the truth. I'm the only one that could give them what they needed. They needed peace.
  "It was instant. The only screaming was mine and the other drivers." I answered. My Gramma covered her hand against her mouth. She looked like she could cry at any minute. I was eager to get off this topic, but I didn't know how. I turned toward Steve. I don't know if he got what I was saying, but he couldn't help but open his mouth to speak.
  "So, how about Pythagorean Theorem?"