More Valuable Than Gold
Title: More Valuable Than Gold
Fandom: Captain America: The First Avenger
Pairing: Steve/Bucky pre-slash
Summary: Inspired by O. Henry's "Gift of the Magi." And the Sesame Street version. >.> Written for this prompt at the Captain America Kink Meme.
Bucky concealed the coffee under his jacket as he entered the store. The precious, rationed coffee worth more than gold. He’d been an idiot and spent all his money on it before he realized he hadn’t bought Steve a gift. He tried to get the grocer to take it back and give him the money back, but the grocer was firm on his stance of now allowing returns on rationed goods. As he should’ve been, considering it was illegal.
Unfortunately, Bucky was a desperate man and didn’t have the luxury of staying on the right side of the law. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and while he and Steve had agreed not to exchange gifts this year, he couldn’t bring himself to be empty-handed on Christmas. He only hoped the drugstore owner had shadier morals.
Of course, he was also aware he was playing with fire. The drugstore owner, Mr. Woodborough, knew him and Steve. He knew them by name and knew their address, on account of its being on the prescription for Steve’s asthma medication. It was entirely possible that this would backfire. At least he had the time of year on his side. Who could have the heart to send a guy to jail at Christmastime?
“Mr. Woodborough!” he exclaimed when he entered the store and found it empty. “Have I got a deal for you!”
“And what is that, Bucky?”
“Hang on a minute.” Bucky already knew where what he wanted was, and headed straight there. He smiled when he saw it. Steve had been complaining about how watercolor paints ruined normal paper. Bucky had heard about paper specifically designed for use with watercolor paints, and had known it was the perfect gift.
“Mr. Woodborough. I don’t have any money, but I can offer you something more valuable than money.” He glanced around to make sure the store was still empty before pulling out the coffee. “In exchange for this here pad of watercolor paper, I’m offering you an entire tin of unopened coffee.”
Mr. Woodborough eyed the paper suspiciously. “I didn’t know you paint, Bucky.”
Bucky smiled sheepishly. “I don’t. It’s for my best friend.”
“He must mean a great deal to you.”
And in that moment, Bucky knew he knew. Mr. Woodborough understood the gravity of the situation, knew Bucky was asking him to commit a crime. Bucky also knew this was a test.
“Yeah. Yeah, he does.”
Mr. Woodborough took the paper and began wrapping it. “Very well, then. You’ve got a deal.”
Bucky took the package and tucked it into his jacket, hurrying home with a smile on his face. Steve would be so surprised.
###
Things were a lot more pleasant for both Bucky and Steve when Bucky had coffee. The past few weeks, he’d spent every morning cursing money and rationing and talking about how he couldn’t wait to ship out, just so he could get coffee again. Things grew even less pleasant when Bucky dropped their only remaining unbroken mug, shattering it to pieces. He’d spent the last few days before he obtained the coffee experimenting with tea he then drank from a bowl.
Steve was beginning to feel as crazy as his friend was acting when Bucky had burst through the door, giant grin in place and tin of coffee in his hands. “Look what I got! I’ve been savin’ up for it!” he’d proclaimed proudly.
It seemed as though his three-week tirade was over when Bucky remembered they had no mugs. “How can I drink coffee if I don’t have a mug?” he’d asked incredulously. “Drinking tea from a bowl, that’s one thing. But coffee demands respect. It’s God’s greatest gift to man.” And he’d decided right then and there that he wouldn’t drink it until he had a proper mug.
Steve headed to the drugstore with this in mind. This wasn’t just about Bucky: it was about his own sanity, as well. He may not have had any money, but he’d work out some way to get that mug.
Steve approached the counter with the mug in hand. And his set of watercolors. “Um, Mr. Woodborough?”
Mr. Woodborough approached the counter and looked Steve over. “Oh, hey, Steve. I thought your prescription was coming in after Christmas.”
“This isn’t about that, sir. It’s about this mug. I don’t have any money for it, but…I can offer you this set of watercolors.” He opened it. “Look, it’s barely been used.”
Mr. Woodborough eyed Steve quizzically, and Steve felt his face turn hot. “Forget it,” he said, grabbing the watercolors and turning to leave. “It was worth a try.”
“Oh, Steve. Come back here. It’s just, a fine art set like that. Well, I think it’s worth more than just one mug. Why don’t you take one for yourself, too?”
Steve shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly-”
“You can and you will. I insist.”
“Thank you, Mr. Woodborough.” He placed the watercolors back on the counter and went to pick out a second mug. By the time He returned to the counter, the first mug had already been wrapped. His eyes hardly left his watercolor set as the second was wrapped.
###
Bucky was too excited over giving Steve his present to wait until Christmas. So, on Christmas Eve, he brought out the package after dinner. “Now, I know we said we weren’t doin’ presents this year, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to at least get you something.”
Steve flushed a bit and went to his room to retrieve the mugs. “I got you something, too.”
Bucky’s face lit up like the Christmas tree they didn’t have. “Really? Let’s open them now!”
They handed each other their gifts, still in the brown parcel paper Mr. Woodborough had wrapped them in. “Open yours first,” Bucky insisted.
“Alright.” Steve smiled and opened his present. The smile vanished when he saw what it was.
“It’s watercolor paper,” Bucky explained. “You said that watercolors ruin normal paper, so I figured this would make things a lot easier for you.”
Steve knew what watercolor paper was. If he hadn’t, his smile wouldn’t have vanished so quickly. But he shook it off, forcing the smile to return. “It’s wonderful. But open your gift.”
Bucky did as he was told.
“You said you weren’t drinking the coffee until you had a mug to drink it from, so…”
Bucky looked back up at his friend. “Um, not that I don’t appreciate it, but how’d you get the money for these?”
Steve looked away. “I didn’t.”
“Wait, what?” He lowered his voice, even though there was no one there to hear them. “Did you steal these?”
Steve was saved from having to answer by a knock on the door. “Wonder who that could be.” He went to open the door.
On the other side of the door was Mr. Woodborough, holding a rather large box. “Hello, Steve. I hope you don’t mind that I took it upon myself to look up your address. I have something for you boys. May I come in?”
Steve stepped aside, too dazed by the unexpected company to question anything.
“Thank you.” Mr. Woodborough closed the door behind him and removed his gloves before setting the box on the table.
“You really didn’t have to, sir,” Bucky said, but it was clearly just formality. His excitement shone through in his eyes.
Mr. Woodborough waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Now, are you boys going to open it or not?”
Bucky looked at Steve. “Same time?”
Steve smiled. “Okay.”
When they saw what was in it, twin sets of blue eyes widened. On top were Steve’s watercolor set and the coffee. And beneath them, food. An entire box full of food.
“Steve,” Bucky gasped. “Are those-are those your watercolors?”
“Yeah.”
Bucky leaned into his friend and assumed a stage whisper. “How did Mr. Woodborough get your watercolors?” Though he already knew. It was the same way Mr. Woodborough had gotten his coffee.
“That doesn’t matter,” Mr. Woodborough interjected. “What matters is that they’re back where they belong.” He looked at Bucky sternly. “And you. I can’t have you trafficking rationed goods. Don’t you know there’s a war on?” He grinned and winked.
Steve blinked. “You tried to sell him your coffee?”
Bucky grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t try to sell it. I didn’t have any money, so I traded my coffee for that.” He gestured at the paper.
“And I traded my watercolor set for those.” Steve gestured toward the mugs.
Bucky smiled and shook his head. Steve could be a real dodohead at times. Never mind that what Bucky had done had been far stupider.
“Well, I’ll leave you two be now. I packed you some food, too. Figured you boys should at least have a nice Christmas supper.”
Bucky followed him to the door. “Won’t you stay for a cup of coffee, at least? It’s the least we could do after what you’ve done for us.”
“Oh, no. I’ve got someplace to be myself. Have a Merry Christmas, boys.” And he left.
The two were silent for a minute after he left. They settled beside each other on the couch, both in thought, before Bucky broke the silence. “You really traded your watercolor set for those mugs?”
Steve stared at his fidgeting hands. “Um, yeah.”
Bucky laughed and mussed Steve’s hair. “You big dodo.”
Steve laughed in return and ducked away from Bucky’s hand. “Look who’s talking!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He took Steve’s hand in his to keep him from fidgeting.
Steve turned to look at Bucky for a long moment before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”
Bucky smiled wide, nuzzling his friend. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”
Fandom: Captain America: The First Avenger
Pairing: Steve/Bucky pre-slash
Summary: Inspired by O. Henry's "Gift of the Magi." And the Sesame Street version. >.> Written for this prompt at the Captain America Kink Meme.
Bucky concealed the coffee under his jacket as he entered the store. The precious, rationed coffee worth more than gold. He’d been an idiot and spent all his money on it before he realized he hadn’t bought Steve a gift. He tried to get the grocer to take it back and give him the money back, but the grocer was firm on his stance of now allowing returns on rationed goods. As he should’ve been, considering it was illegal.
Unfortunately, Bucky was a desperate man and didn’t have the luxury of staying on the right side of the law. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and while he and Steve had agreed not to exchange gifts this year, he couldn’t bring himself to be empty-handed on Christmas. He only hoped the drugstore owner had shadier morals.
Of course, he was also aware he was playing with fire. The drugstore owner, Mr. Woodborough, knew him and Steve. He knew them by name and knew their address, on account of its being on the prescription for Steve’s asthma medication. It was entirely possible that this would backfire. At least he had the time of year on his side. Who could have the heart to send a guy to jail at Christmastime?
“Mr. Woodborough!” he exclaimed when he entered the store and found it empty. “Have I got a deal for you!”
“And what is that, Bucky?”
“Hang on a minute.” Bucky already knew where what he wanted was, and headed straight there. He smiled when he saw it. Steve had been complaining about how watercolor paints ruined normal paper. Bucky had heard about paper specifically designed for use with watercolor paints, and had known it was the perfect gift.
“Mr. Woodborough. I don’t have any money, but I can offer you something more valuable than money.” He glanced around to make sure the store was still empty before pulling out the coffee. “In exchange for this here pad of watercolor paper, I’m offering you an entire tin of unopened coffee.”
Mr. Woodborough eyed the paper suspiciously. “I didn’t know you paint, Bucky.”
Bucky smiled sheepishly. “I don’t. It’s for my best friend.”
“He must mean a great deal to you.”
And in that moment, Bucky knew he knew. Mr. Woodborough understood the gravity of the situation, knew Bucky was asking him to commit a crime. Bucky also knew this was a test.
“Yeah. Yeah, he does.”
Mr. Woodborough took the paper and began wrapping it. “Very well, then. You’ve got a deal.”
Bucky took the package and tucked it into his jacket, hurrying home with a smile on his face. Steve would be so surprised.
###
Things were a lot more pleasant for both Bucky and Steve when Bucky had coffee. The past few weeks, he’d spent every morning cursing money and rationing and talking about how he couldn’t wait to ship out, just so he could get coffee again. Things grew even less pleasant when Bucky dropped their only remaining unbroken mug, shattering it to pieces. He’d spent the last few days before he obtained the coffee experimenting with tea he then drank from a bowl.
Steve was beginning to feel as crazy as his friend was acting when Bucky had burst through the door, giant grin in place and tin of coffee in his hands. “Look what I got! I’ve been savin’ up for it!” he’d proclaimed proudly.
It seemed as though his three-week tirade was over when Bucky remembered they had no mugs. “How can I drink coffee if I don’t have a mug?” he’d asked incredulously. “Drinking tea from a bowl, that’s one thing. But coffee demands respect. It’s God’s greatest gift to man.” And he’d decided right then and there that he wouldn’t drink it until he had a proper mug.
Steve headed to the drugstore with this in mind. This wasn’t just about Bucky: it was about his own sanity, as well. He may not have had any money, but he’d work out some way to get that mug.
Steve approached the counter with the mug in hand. And his set of watercolors. “Um, Mr. Woodborough?”
Mr. Woodborough approached the counter and looked Steve over. “Oh, hey, Steve. I thought your prescription was coming in after Christmas.”
“This isn’t about that, sir. It’s about this mug. I don’t have any money for it, but…I can offer you this set of watercolors.” He opened it. “Look, it’s barely been used.”
Mr. Woodborough eyed Steve quizzically, and Steve felt his face turn hot. “Forget it,” he said, grabbing the watercolors and turning to leave. “It was worth a try.”
“Oh, Steve. Come back here. It’s just, a fine art set like that. Well, I think it’s worth more than just one mug. Why don’t you take one for yourself, too?”
Steve shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly-”
“You can and you will. I insist.”
“Thank you, Mr. Woodborough.” He placed the watercolors back on the counter and went to pick out a second mug. By the time He returned to the counter, the first mug had already been wrapped. His eyes hardly left his watercolor set as the second was wrapped.
###
Bucky was too excited over giving Steve his present to wait until Christmas. So, on Christmas Eve, he brought out the package after dinner. “Now, I know we said we weren’t doin’ presents this year, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to at least get you something.”
Steve flushed a bit and went to his room to retrieve the mugs. “I got you something, too.”
Bucky’s face lit up like the Christmas tree they didn’t have. “Really? Let’s open them now!”
They handed each other their gifts, still in the brown parcel paper Mr. Woodborough had wrapped them in. “Open yours first,” Bucky insisted.
“Alright.” Steve smiled and opened his present. The smile vanished when he saw what it was.
“It’s watercolor paper,” Bucky explained. “You said that watercolors ruin normal paper, so I figured this would make things a lot easier for you.”
Steve knew what watercolor paper was. If he hadn’t, his smile wouldn’t have vanished so quickly. But he shook it off, forcing the smile to return. “It’s wonderful. But open your gift.”
Bucky did as he was told.
“You said you weren’t drinking the coffee until you had a mug to drink it from, so…”
Bucky looked back up at his friend. “Um, not that I don’t appreciate it, but how’d you get the money for these?”
Steve looked away. “I didn’t.”
“Wait, what?” He lowered his voice, even though there was no one there to hear them. “Did you steal these?”
Steve was saved from having to answer by a knock on the door. “Wonder who that could be.” He went to open the door.
On the other side of the door was Mr. Woodborough, holding a rather large box. “Hello, Steve. I hope you don’t mind that I took it upon myself to look up your address. I have something for you boys. May I come in?”
Steve stepped aside, too dazed by the unexpected company to question anything.
“Thank you.” Mr. Woodborough closed the door behind him and removed his gloves before setting the box on the table.
“You really didn’t have to, sir,” Bucky said, but it was clearly just formality. His excitement shone through in his eyes.
Mr. Woodborough waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Now, are you boys going to open it or not?”
Bucky looked at Steve. “Same time?”
Steve smiled. “Okay.”
When they saw what was in it, twin sets of blue eyes widened. On top were Steve’s watercolor set and the coffee. And beneath them, food. An entire box full of food.
“Steve,” Bucky gasped. “Are those-are those your watercolors?”
“Yeah.”
Bucky leaned into his friend and assumed a stage whisper. “How did Mr. Woodborough get your watercolors?” Though he already knew. It was the same way Mr. Woodborough had gotten his coffee.
“That doesn’t matter,” Mr. Woodborough interjected. “What matters is that they’re back where they belong.” He looked at Bucky sternly. “And you. I can’t have you trafficking rationed goods. Don’t you know there’s a war on?” He grinned and winked.
Steve blinked. “You tried to sell him your coffee?”
Bucky grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t try to sell it. I didn’t have any money, so I traded my coffee for that.” He gestured at the paper.
“And I traded my watercolor set for those.” Steve gestured toward the mugs.
Bucky smiled and shook his head. Steve could be a real dodohead at times. Never mind that what Bucky had done had been far stupider.
“Well, I’ll leave you two be now. I packed you some food, too. Figured you boys should at least have a nice Christmas supper.”
Bucky followed him to the door. “Won’t you stay for a cup of coffee, at least? It’s the least we could do after what you’ve done for us.”
“Oh, no. I’ve got someplace to be myself. Have a Merry Christmas, boys.” And he left.
The two were silent for a minute after he left. They settled beside each other on the couch, both in thought, before Bucky broke the silence. “You really traded your watercolor set for those mugs?”
Steve stared at his fidgeting hands. “Um, yeah.”
Bucky laughed and mussed Steve’s hair. “You big dodo.”
Steve laughed in return and ducked away from Bucky’s hand. “Look who’s talking!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He took Steve’s hand in his to keep him from fidgeting.
Steve turned to look at Bucky for a long moment before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”
Bucky smiled wide, nuzzling his friend. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”