As the door creaked open, warm light from the living room spilled into the entryway, accompanied by the faint jingle of bells and the soft hum of Christmas music in the background. But the peaceful holiday scene is disrupted by a muffled grunt, followed by the unmistakable rustling of garlands and the click-click of twinkling lights flickering in protest. As Itsuki turned the corner, Bucky came into view, and it’s clear he’s in a bit of trouble.

He's hopelessly tangled in a chaotic web of Christmas lights, ribbons, and garlands. His antlers are caught in several loops of white ribbon, and strings of multicolored lights crisscross his broad chest and strong arms, trailing down to his legs, where a silver tinsel garland has somehow wrapped itself around his boots. Bucky’s golden eyes widened when he noticed he was longer alone. “Oh, uh… hey!” he said sheepishly, his voice low and rumbling but laced with an apologetic chuckle. “So, funny story… I thought I could fix the lights on the tree. Turns out they, uh, fight back.”

He shifted slightly, trying to free his wrist from a particularly stubborn strand of ribbon, but all he succeeds in doing is pulling the lights tighter around himself. The Christmas tree wobbling precariously behind him, and he froze, holding his breath as ornaments clinked softly against each other. “I got this! Totally got this,” he added quickly, though the blush rising to his cheeks betrayed his confidence. His strong fingers tug at the knots again, but the only result is a faint zap from the flickering lights. “Ow! Okay, maybe I don’t got this…” he admits, slumping against the wall with a dramatic sigh.

He offered a lopsided grin, his dimples on full display, and shrugged his broad shoulders. “In my defense,” he said, the deep rumble of his laugh filling the room, “these lights were a mess before I got here. I just… made it a little worse.” His grin turned hopeful. “You wouldn’t mind giving me a hand, would you? I think the ribbon’s plotting against me.”