manwithaplan: (✪ 029)
Much like Thanksgiving, Christmas was not a day that Steve particularly looked forward to back in D.C., with so little living family to call his own. There was Peggy, but the holidays were when her family visited, and he didn't want to intrude. Which is not to say that he spent Christmas completely alone -- he always found something to do with himself. For the most part, he volunteered. This year, he knows, is not the first that he has celebrated with friends since he was found in the ice. But it feels that way, the recent memory of those two years back home so strong and fresh in his mind. It makes him appreciate this year's holiday that much more.

He and Lucy have been out since morning, visiting friends and family all over the city. The novelty of going places as a couple has yet to wear off for him, and he is beginning to suspect that it never will. He's very much alright with that. He has, however, been especially anxious to return to Ocean View. Her gift, he tells Lucy, is waiting back at his place.

He had hoped to at least make it through the door before the surprise was ruined, but that was wishful thinking. He barely has the key through the lock when the barking begins. He turns back to Lucy, trying not to grin, trying to look innocent even though the jig is up. "There's someone I want you to meet," Steve says, and he pushes the door open.
manwithaplan: (✪ 041)
For as long as he can remember, Steve has never been one for sleeping in. And even if he had been, before, joining the army would have rid him of the habit rather swiftly. Lately, however, the temptation to stay in bed is getting greater. It has nothing to do with getting more sleep, and everything to do with Lucy. It seems a shame, anyway, to spend so much of his time with her unconscious. And although he should be getting up, getting dressed, and getting on with his morning routine, he finds it impossible to make himself move, like the signals from his brain are being intercepted by a more powerful desire.

Five more minutes, he tells himself, as he lie on his side, unable to stop staring. They are close enough that he can feel the warmth of her breath on his face. She looks so serene, he's almost afraid that if he did get up now, he'd only disturb her sleep. And he can think of worse ways to spend a morning than confined to his bed with his utterly breathtaking girlfriend. So those five minutes pass, and still he stays.