Very Merry Rivals

Chapter 1

Careful. Careful. You tell yourself as you set up an inflatable Santa on your roof. A layer of snow has blanketed your roof and you're trying not to die. One wrong step and—

"Hey sugarplum." A smooth baritone voice startles you, making you flinch and slip.

You scream as you start to slide off your roof. Your boot gets caught in a string of colorful Christmas lights, leaving you suspended in the air upside down. Your breathing is erratic, and your eyes wander to the black combat boots that can only belong to one person—James Buchanan Barnes— your strangely attractive neighbor and number one Christmas decoration rival.

"Barnes." You say causally as if you meant to fall off your roof. "What are you doing here? You're on my turf."

A chuckle rumbles out of his chest, his breath coming out in small puffs of white. "Just checking out the competition. Looks like you could use some help, sugarplum."

"I'm fine, thanks. I can handle things on my own. And would you stop calling me that ridiculous nickname? It's annoying."

"You're right." He steps closer, the snow crunching under his boots. "You're more like an ornament right now. Last chance for me to help you down."

He looks at you with his baby blue eyes, a few strands of his brunet hair escaping his beanie, and a smirk is settled on his features. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes.

"Fine. Can you help me down?"

He hums and puts one hand by his ear. "Hm, what was that? I'm not sure I heard a please."

You glare at him before gritting out. "Please."

"All together now, sugarplum."

You wanted to slap the grin off his stupid face. You're about to growl out a response when the string of lights snaps, before you can tumble into the earth, two strong arms catch you. You become engulfed in his scent, pine with hints of cinnamon. It was oddly comforting.

"Easy there." His voice sounds before setting you down. "Good thing I caught you."

You smooth down your coat and mutter out a small, "Thanks. I hate you."

"Always happy to help, sugarplum. That's what Christmas is all about, right?"

"Sure. I've got a lot of work to do, so, uh, have a nice life."

He nods before sending you another blinding smile. "Of course, You've got a lot of work to do if you want to even come close to beating me in the decoration contest this year."

Your jaw ticked. "Watch your back, Barnes."

"Bucky." He breathes out quietly, but you've already turned on your heel and headed inside.

~~~~~

Bucky's phone vibrates in his pocket just as he finishes plugging in yet another string of lights. He fishes it out of his pocket before answering.

"Hey Ma, what's up?"

"It's about grandma, she had a heart attack—"

Bucky clenches his fist. "I'm on my way."

Keys already in his pocket, he rushes over to his motorcycle and straddles it. The ride to the hospital has Bucky's heart beating loudly in his chest. His grandma, Evelyn Barnes, was the only one who really understood him, and he cherished every moment with her. He bolted through the hospital doors and toward the receptionist's desk.