Bucky slips into the bedroom silently and pushes the door closed with the back of his foot. In the bed, Steve is still sleeping, the early morning sunlight through the window making his hair glow and his skin look golden.
The two mugs in Bucky’s hand clink together because Bucky has stopped paying attention to anything other than Steve. A splash of coffee lands on the back of his metal wrist and he sucks it off without thinking about it, wincing at the empty taste of the Vibranium.
“Morning,” he says softly, crossing the room.
Steve doesn’t move, just breathes nice and deep and even, the way he never did before, back in Bucky’s half-formed memories.
“Steve,” Bucky whispers. He sets the mugs down on the table by the bed and leans over Steve, brushing his hair back off his forehead for zero reason other than wanting to.
Steve’s lips curl up and Bucky can’t tell if he’s actually asleep or just pretending. He feels like he should be able to tell, but the fact that he can’t is only a tiny pang amongst all the bigger ones.
“Coffee, Steve,” Bucky says then kisses him softly. It only occurs to him once he’s already done it that maybe that’s not okay, maybe you’re supposed to wait and ask permission, but Steve’s kissing him back by then, so it seems like something to worry about later.
Steve smiles and kisses him again, humming happily against Bucky’s mouth, before he blinks his eyes open. “Hi,” he says. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Bucky says back and doesn’t move away. He knows he can get kind of fixated these days, studying a thing and forgetting to look away, but Steve normally tells him when he’s getting creepy. For now, Steve just smiles and lets Bucky look at the pretty grey-blue in his eyes for as long as he wants to.
“What time is it?” Steve whispers, like he doesn’t want to look across at the clock and break the spell.
“Early,” Bucky says, not six forty-two and I don’t know how I know that.
“Good,” Steve says and rolls Bucky down onto the free side of the bed.
Bucky could fight it, but he deliberately doesn’t. He’s glad when Steve follows him, crowding over him and kissing him, half on top of him with the comforter still between them.
Steve’s laughing and there’s sun in Bucky’s eyes and it’s… it’s amazing, really.
“Jeez, you woke up quick,” Bucky says, squirming sideways so he’s tucked more firmly under Steve’s solid chest.
“Had an incentive,” Steve says. He lays his hands on Bucky’s biceps, stroking them with his thumbs, then slides his hands down Bucky’s arms until their fingers are tangled together.
Bucky squeezes Steve’s fingers absently while they kiss. He can feel Steve gradually waking up all the way as the kisses get deeper, Steve’s tongue sliding into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky will maybe never get used to this, how good this feels after so long without it, and he groans, trying to twist his fingers free so he can lay his hands on Steve.
Steve growls playfully and grabs for Bucky’s hands, pinning them back down onto the bed.
All the air rushes out of Bucky’s lungs, but before he can finish processing just how good that felt, Steve’s cursing and scrambling back, letting go of Bucky’s hands as though they’ve burned him.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Bucky blinks. He’s a little too turned on to process this quick a change in proceedings, but he makes himself sit up on his elbows and tilt his head at Steve. “Were you thinking that maybe you were about to get spectacularly laid?” he asks. “‘cause I’m thinking that’s what was just about to happen.”
“I didn’t mean to hold you down,” Steve says, looking wretchedly guilty. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t have a choice about - ”
“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky interrupts. “I know that. If I didn’t like it, I’d tell you to knock it off.” When Steve doesn’t answer, Bucky feels his dick wilt and he sits up, reaching for Steve. “Don’t look like that, I’m not him anymore.”
Him being that empty shell of a person who did exactly what he was told and didn’t know he could say no. (Bucky is still him, a little, inside. But he fights it every day and he needs Steve to pretend he believes that that side of him is gone.)
“I know,” Steve says. He shrugs, big shoulders rippling under his t-shirt. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Bucky says. He twists around in the bed and lies down next to Steve, snuggling up against him. “Maybe waking you up with sex was a bad plan.”
“No, it was a good plan,” Steve says. “You should do it again.” He stretches one arm around Bucky’s shoulders and passes Bucky his coffee with the other hand.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bucky promises. “And you should think about the holding me down thing.” He smacks one of Steve’s (fantastic) biceps. “I mean, you probably could now.”
“Probably?” Steve asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Eh.” Bucky hides his smile in his coffee. “I guess you’d have a fighting chance, at least.”
It’s late at night and they’ve been kissing for what feels like hours. One really good thing about whatever Zola did to him (getting ‘non-con super-serumed’ Clint calls it) is that Bucky doesn’t need a ton of sleep anymore and neither does Steve, so if they want to go all night, they can go all night.
Steve has been sucking Bucky’s dick for a really nicely long time, before he lets go with one more wet kiss and drags himself up the bed, leaning over to kiss Bucky’s mouth this time.
“Ugh, your mouth tastes like dick,” Bucky complains, tangling his hands in Steve’s hair anyway, in case he tries to move too far away.
“Don’t blame me for how your penis tastes,” Steve says with his patented Captain America Is Disappointed In You face. Bucky is sure this isn’t the kind of situation that face was invented for.
“Why not, you touch it more than I do,” Bucky says, which makes Steve drop his head and press his face into Bucky’s neck so he can laugh.
Bucky smiles, relieved like he always is when he gets something totally right and makes Steve happy. He strokes his fingers through Steve’s hair, tugging on it a little where it’s getting long on top.
“Hey, Rogers,” he says, “feel like fucking me?”
Steve lifts his head. His eyes are still bright from laughing and his lips are swollen red from Bucky’s dick. This bed is currently Bucky’s favourite part of the future.
“I could be convinced,” Steve says, nodding slowly, like he’s thinking about it.
Bucky’s main instinct is to pinch him in the side for being an asshole, but he can’t, just cannot do anything to hurt Steve, even when it’s something tiny and dumb like that. He settles for trying to tickle Steve’s ribs, which he never got to do when they were kids, in case Steve had trouble catching his breath after. It turns out to be really satisfying.
“Stop it,” Steve says, smacking Bucky’s hand away.
Shockingly, Bucky doesn’t stop. He digs his fingertips in between Steve’s ribs and loves how it makes Steve squirm against him.
“Bucky,” Steve warns and catches hold of Bucky’s hand.
It’s like this morning all over again, except this time they both go still, watching each other like they’re trying to figure out what happens next.
“Breathe,” Bucky says before Steve can freak out again. “I’m not asking for anything complicated, here. Just hold me down while you fuck me.”
Steve closes his eyes. “You can’t just say things like that,” he complains. His dick is nestled down between Bucky’s thighs and it pulses, once, Bucky’s skin getting sticky from pre-come.
Bucky smiles. “You’ll love it,” he says. “It’ll get all your goddamn protective instincts all riled up, I swear.”
“I know I’m going to love it,” Steve says tightly. Bucky does a silent, mental fistbump because Steve is going to agree. “That’s not the problem.”
“What’s the problem, then?” Bucky asks. He lifts one leg, hooking it around Steve’s back and tugs him in closer.
“If we talk about it now, it’ll break the mood,” Steve says. “Let’s just go back to the kissing.”
The thing about Bucky that no one told him, but that he’s starting to remember all by himself, is that he is just as stubborn as stupid Steve Rogers. “Nope, no way,” he says. He kicks Steve in the ass a little bit, just because. “Tell me. Come on. Dare ya.”
“That is damn unfair,” Steve tells him, glaring down at him. “And it’s not important, okay? I just worry, because you didn’t get to make a lot of choices up until not long ago and I’d be a bastard to take another one away from you.”
Bucky’s heart squeezes like pain, only it’s way more incurable than that. “Come here,” he says roughly, but uses his free hand to pull Steve down into a hard kiss before Steve can move.
They kiss and kiss and Steve grabs hold of Bucky’s face, thumb against his cheekbone to tilt him how Steve wants him; it stops Bucky’s breath in his chest.
“Okay, now are you listening?” Bucky asks, when they’re both bright eyed and breathless. Steve hasn’t let up his hold on Bucky’s wrist and Bucky doesn’t mention it. “This is what I’m choosing, okay? I’m using my total and complete autonomy, and all my rights to do with myself what I want, and I’m choosing to ask you to hold me down and fuck me, because that’s what I want.”
Steve opens then closes his mouth. His cheeks are flushed and his cock is way ahead of the problem, hips shifting against Bucky’s thigh.
“Got no comeback to that?” Bucky asks.
Steve licks his lips. “Got no comeback to that,” he agrees hoarsely.
Bucky feels himself go loose with relief; he hadn’t let himself really want this when he wasn’t sure if Steve was going to do it, but he does really want it.
“Get a rubber,” Bucky tells him, “and some slick.”
“I thought I was the one in charge,” Steve grouses, but he shifts against Bucky, cock rubbing sticky all over Bucky’s belly when he stretches to reach for the bedside table.
“You gonna last?” Bucky asks, arching up so he can press Steve’s dick between them, getting his own in on the action, too.
Steve drops a little foil packet and their bottle of lube onto the bed then slaps Bucky’s hip, getting him to lie back down again. “Not if you keep doing that,” he says, voice going thick.
Bucky reaches down between them and grabs Steve’s dick, squeezing hard until he stops looking quite so close to the edge. “Captain America’s got no stamina,” he says. “That’s kind of sad.”
“Screw you,” Steve says, batting Bucky’s hand away. “And don’t go making any cracks about how that’s what you want me to be doing.”
“Would I?” Bucky asks smiling up at him all wide and innocent.
Steve ignores him. He pops the cap on the lube then starts to look regretful. “I’ve got to let go for a minute, okay?” he says, fingers unclenching from around Bucky’s wrist.
Bucky’s skin feels cool and clammy without the ridiculous heat from Steve’s skin and he can’t help the disappointed noise he makes.
Steve surges forward and kisses Bucky’s wrist, then the palm of Bucky’s hand. Bucky’s fingers curl instinctively and he’s not exactly surprised when Steve stops to kiss each of those, too.
“You’re being stupid,” he says, embarrassed by how soft and happy it comes out.
“I’m allowed,” Steve tells him. “Now tell me if I hurt you.”
“Sure,” Bucky says. He probably won’t; the amount of pain Bucky can take is scarily high and he’d rather take it all than make Steve feel guilty.
Steve rubs slick fingers around Bucky’s balls first of all, which feels strange and slippery, but also hot in this weird way that makes him want to squeeze his legs together like a horny girl.
“That’s not where my asshole is,” he complains, which gets him a nip on the knee from Steve’s freakishly sharp teeth.
“All of you’s an asshole,” Steve says, but he doesn’t sound like he’s paying attention, focus on pouring more lube over his fingers and rubbing his thumb over the stretch of skin between Bucky’s balls and his hole.
It sends a harsh bolt of pleasure up into Bucky’s stomach and he screws his eyes shut, wanting more.
“Just one finger, then you fuck me,” he says, but Steve mutters something that definitely isn’t agreement and slides one fingertip inside, barely as far as the first knuckle.
“Steve,” Bucky says, harsh and too fast. He didn’t mean to say it so loud; there’s nothing shocking about one fingertip when he wants Steve’s whole cock, but it still startles him, somehow.
His knee gets a kiss this time. “Okay?” Steve asks carefully.
Bucky forces his eyes to open and his muscles to relax. “Yeah,” he says. “Give me another one.”
For once, Steve doesn’t argue. He presses a second fingertip in next to the first. It’s a snug fit, but then he starts pushing them both in deeper and it’s too much, definitely too much. Even with all the slick that’s guiding the way, Bucky wants to push them back out.
Until, suddenly, he doesn’t. Suddenly, his body unclenches and Steve’s fingers glide the rest of the way home, and Bucky pants up at the ceiling in relief.
Steve rubs Bucky’s belly with his free hand. “There,” he says softly. “And you said you didn’t need anything.”
Bucky narrows his eyes into a glare that he really doesn’t feel. “You’re making me soft,” he says.
“Hardly,” Steve scoffs. It takes Bucky a second to realise that that’s innuendo and then he has to fight not to laugh, because it shakes Steve’s fingers inside him and that just feels odd.
“One day, I’m going to tell America about your dirty mind,” Bucky warns him. He spreads his legs to give Steve more room to really work his fingers. “And they’ll be so appalled that they’ll - shit, right there; Steve, right there - that they’ll fire you and give me your job.”
“You can have it,” Steve says. “I’ll be your kept man.”
Bucky wants to say something about how Steve has never let himself be Bucky’s kept man, even when he was too sick to work. But he gets distracted by what Steve’s doing down between his legs, a third finger joining the other two and making Bucky curse.
The way that Steve preps him is slow and careful and exactly the sort of thing that makes Bucky want to flip out and remind everyone that he’s the Winter fucking Soldier, that he’s not made of glass. But being gentle with him makes Steve happy and a happy Steve is important.
“There,” Steve says, sounding satisfied after approximately twenty years of fucking Bucky with his fingers.
“What, don’t tell me I’m ready,” Bucky snarks, but he makes sure to curl his leg around Steve’s back, keep Steve close for an extra couple of seconds before he lets him go.
“I could prep you some more,” Steve says, all wide blue eyes, like he doesn’t know he’s driving Bucky crazy.
Bucky swallows. “Please,” he says. “Steve.”
Steve closes his eyes for one slow blink, throat bobbing when he swallows. “Sure,” he whispers and fumbles the condom on.
Bucky thinks sometimes that it’s kind of embarrassing that he’s a badass sniper turn super assassin, but his favourite position is missionary. He’s pretty sure he should be into getting fucked through the floor while walls explode around him like in that Mr and Mrs Smith movie that Clint loves. But he likes it like this. He likes being on his back with Steve looming above him, big and naked, blocking out the rest of the world.
Steve leans his weight on one elbow and kisses Bucky hotly, tongue at the back of Bucky’s front teeth, while his other hand guides his dick into Bucky’s ass.
Bucky draws his knees up and breathes through Steve sinking all the way in. Steve’s hand slips to the V of Bucky’s groin, rubbing back and forth over the sweaty skin there. It sends shots of pleasure all the way through Bucky, right to the tip of his dick, and he groans.
He lifts his hands, pressing them into the comforter above his head. “You promised,” he says. “Please.”
“Hm?” Steve asks, then he raises his head and his eyes go wide. “Oh.” He slides up the bed, cock moving in Bucky, pressing in deeper.
Bucky winds his legs around Steve’s back, thighs against the dip of Steve’s hips so they’re locked together.
There’s a careful look of concentration on Steve’s face when he leans over Bucky and puts his hands around Bucky’s wrists. He puts the same amount of pressure on the flesh one as he does the metal one, thumbs stroking across Bucky’s palms.
Bucky pushes up against him, and his hands lift free for a second before Steve shoves him back down. He has to put more force on Bucky’s left arm than his right, but it works. Bucky’s down against the bed and he can’t move.
It makes something that’s always knotted tight in his chest go loose.
“Is this what you wanted?” Steve asks. His eyes are wide and dark, somewhere between worried and turned on.
“Exactly what I wanted,” Bucky says, hearing how soft his voice comes out, but not caring. He bucks again, but Steve’s expecting it this time and he squeezes Bucky’s wrists until the right one aches and the left squeaks a little at the joints.
“Stay still,” Steve says firmly. It’s his Captain America On a Mission voice, but Bucky doubts he’s noticed that. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Bucky smiles up at him. “No, you won’t hurt me.” He shifts around and squeezes his ass around Steve’s cock. “Fuck me.”
Steve just stares at him for a minute and Bucky feels a little flicker of worry, beyond the calm of this moment, that maybe he’s done something totally wrong and un-Bucky-like. But he can’t think of anything, so he waits, doesn’t try to apologise the way he would have done when he first came back.
“You’re amazing,” Steve says, leaning in so he’s kissing the words into Bucky’s mouth. “You know I love you?”
Bucky closes his eyes, pressing up into Steve’s chest, feeling the strain in his shoulders when he moves. “I know.” He hasn’t said it back once yet, doesn’t know how, but Sam’s promised him that Steve knows.
Steve breaks out of the kiss and presses his forehead to Bucky’s collarbone. He starts to roll his hips, fucking Bucky in short little jerks, cock barely shifting one inch out before rolling back in with a jolt that shakes through Bucky’s body.
Bucky tips his head back and moans each time Steve’s cock hits a good place inside him. He opens and closes his hands and tries to concentrate, but at the back of his mind, Bucky can see Zola, Rumlow, Alexander Pierce. He can feel the restraints closing around his arms, knowing he can’t escape, that he’s going to strain something trying, but he’ll wake up with it fixed.
“Hey, Steve, let go,” Bucky says and Steve freezes. He releases Bucky’s wrists straight away and rocks back.
Bucky breathes through it, focuses back on the here and now, where it’s Steve’s warm, strong hands that are holding him down. He smiles.
“What?” Steve asks. “Bucky? Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” Bucky promises. “Knew you’d stop if I asked you to.”
Steve frowns. “Of course,” he says. “Of course I would.”
“Yeah, I knew it,” Bucky repeats. “Come back here.”
Steve hesitates, so Bucky reaches for him. His arms feel heavy, like they know they’re not supposed to move until Steve okays it. Steve grabs Bucky’s hands before Bucky can touch him, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.
“Sorry,” he says, looking up at Steve. “That was shitty, huh? I just, I need to test stuff, sometimes.”
Steve nods. He looks sad, but he doesn’t look angry, not even annoyed. “You can test it with me as many times as you need me to,” he says and Bucky breathes out a sigh, because Steve gets it.
“Did I kill the mood?” he asks. Steve is still inside him, just about, but Bucky can tell he’s not as hard as he was before.
“Nope.” Steve leans over him and kisses him. Their tangled hands are down by their sides, close to Bucky’s hips and that angle’s even better; he knows he couldn’t break away from that without one hell of a fight.
He melts into the kiss and into the bed, eyes fluttering shut. They neck for a long while and Bucky’s so caught up in it that he doesn’t notice that Steve’s dick has gotten back with the program until Steve shifts restlessly and hits his prostate dead on.
Bucky sees stars.
He bites Steve’s lip, which he definitely hadn’t meant to do, but Steve doesn’t seem to care, just groans into Bucky’s mouth.
Bucky can taste copper and he wants to make sure that he didn’t make Steve bleed too bad, but he doesn’t get a chance. Steve shifts up onto his knees, movements suddenly urgent, and drags his mouth away from Bucky’s.
“Can I fuck you?” he asks, lips against Bucky’s ear. “I mean, do it right?”
Bucky’s dick fucking jumps between them. “Jeez,” he complains, and, “Yes, yes, you should fuck me, right now.
“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, like he wasn’t the one who suggested it. He lets go of Bucky’s hands, but he kisses Bucky while he does it, so Bucky doesn’t whine too bad. “Come on,” he says, hooking his hands under Bucky’s armpits. “Move up the bed for me.”
Bucky scrambles backwards to where Steve’s trying to drag him, hating this stretch of time when Steve’s not in him. He winds up with his head on the pillow, looking up at Steve. “This where you want me?” he asks.
Steve swallows loudly and clears his throat. “Almost,” he says. He taps the top of the bedframe with an open palm. It’s a nice one, solid and metal and a little old like most things in their new apartment.
“See where this curls?” Steve asks, pointing at the twisty designs on the edges of the frame. “I want you to hold on to it here and here. Can you do that for me?”
Bucky can definitely do that. He doesn’t know quite what Steve’s endgame is, but he’s always followed Steve’s plans and it’s only gone wrong about fifty percent of the time.
He lifts his hands and wraps his fingers where Steve wants them, holding on tight. “Shame we don’t have handcuffs,” he says, mostly saying it to himself.
Steve freezes for a second, face washing clean of all expression, before he says tightly, “Shut up, unless you want this all to be over in five seconds.”
“After all this build up?” Bucky asks, making his voice cocky to hide how hot and needy he feels.
“Buck, just.” Steve moves quickly, guiding Bucky’s legs up toward his chest and levering Bucky’s ass up off the bed. He winds up supporting Bucky’s whole weight on the flat of his hand for a moment before Bucky gets with the program and plants his feet on the mattress.
“Fuck,” Bucky says, then he says it again, with way more feeling, when Steve lines himself up and pushes his cock back into Bucky.
Steve slides his hands up Bucky’s chest, thumbs on Bucky’s nipples for just long enough to drive Bucky crazy, before they stop just below either collarbone, next to where Bucky’s arms are raised, still holding onto the headboard.
Steve presses down, leaning his weight into Bucky and Bucky chokes out a gasp, clutching the headboard tighter.
“I want to fuck you like this,” Steve tells him, and Bucky doesn’t know anymore if Steve’s doing it for him or if he really wants wants this. “Can you take it?”
“Of course I can fucking take it,” Bucky says. He turns his head into his right arm, almost too much already and Steve’s not even moving. “Get going.”
Steve does. He starts fucking Bucky like he really means it, one long line of solid muscle that Bucky can more sense than see, because there’s sweat in Bucky’s eyes and they’re blurring, stinging, while he curses and moves his lower body up to catch every one of Steve’s thrusts.
He can’t move his upper body at all, totally pinned by Steve - either his hands keeping Bucky’s torso down or his words keeping Bucky’s hands twisted around the latticework.
This is everything Bucky’s wanted, maybe ever, definitely since he started waking up every day, realising how much had been taken from him. It’s like Steve’s giving some of it back, giving Bucky what he wants, how he wants it, taking care of Bucky’s body, so Bucky doesn’t have to worry about it, doesn’t have to panic about controlling it and making sure it never becomes a weapon again.
It feels like Bucky’s half Steve’s now, even more than he ever was before, and Bucky can relax, let go, just be, just for once, because Steve’s got him.
He doesn’t realise he’s so close until it rushes through, and he comes, totally untouched and making a mess of both their bellies, orgasm then aftershocks leaving him trembling and shaking, sweating and gasping for breath.
Steve goes wild eyed and his flush gets deeper, his thrusts faster. His fingers are clenched in Bucky’s skin now and it hurts in a distant kind of way, but Bucky doesn’t mind; he wants it to bruise.
“C’mon, Steve,” Bucky says, straining up to kiss him even though he’s too far away and Bucky will never reach. “Orgasm time.”
Steve laughs and groans at the same time, surging down to close the gap and kiss Bucky hard and clumsy, while his hips piston and his cock jerks, and he makes some seriously hilarious orgasm noises into Bucky’s mouth.
Steve’s hands slip away from Bucky’s chest when he slumps. He has the energy to shift to the side just far enough that Bucky doesn’t get to take his whole weight, then his face tucks into Bucky’s shoulder and he groans like he’s never planning to move again.
Bucky smiles and turns his head, presses his lips to Steve’s damp hairline.
“Hey,” he says then, when Steve doesn’t move, “Hey, Cap?”
Steve’s eyes open and he makes a complaining noise.
“Can I touch you?” Bucky asks quietly. He’s not sure if he should be embarrassed or not, but he genuinely can’t seem to make himself let go of the headboard without Steve’s permission.
Steve’s eyes widen and his sticky cock gives one last twitch of effort against Bucky’s thigh. “‘course you can,” he says. He grabs Bucky’s hands as soon as Bucky’s unpeeled them, rubbing them between his.
They’re stiff and the flesh one is a little sore, but Bucky doesn’t care about that. He gently pulls them free and reaches out for Steve, pulling him back into Bucky’s side.
“I wanna touch you,” he says, “you can go back to your sleepy, post-coital thing now.”
Steve curls around Bucky, forehead on Bucky’s chest. “I should at least get rid of the condom,” he says, words all slurring together. He sounds more Brooklyn just then than he has in a long time.
“Why, what’s it gonna do?” Bucky asks. He slings his arm over Steve and maybe holds onto him a little tighter than he’s comfortable admitting to. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Steve asks, but his lips curl up into a smile that Bucky can feel all the way through his skin.
“Going along with my shit,” Bucky says. He kisses the top of Steve’s head this time. He can’t seem to stop wanting to touch him.
Steve shrugs, shoulder rolling against Bucky’s ribs. “Seems fair; you’ve been following my ideas long enough.” He looks up under his eyelashes. “Besides, I wasn’t exactly struggling to enjoy myself. You might have noticed?”
Bucky grins. “I noticed.” He noticed and he is so fucking thankful for Steve, even more than normal. He’s not gonna say that though; no sense making Steve’s head any bigger than it needs to be. “Handcuffs next?”
Steve laughs, rolling his forehead across Bucky’s skin. “You were serious about that?”
Bucky feels so goddamn light, right now. He hopes it lasts forever. “I never joke about kinky sex, pal. Gotta find someone to steal them from first, though. I bet Natasha’s got some. Maybe Coulson; he seems the type.”
“Bucky,” Steve complains. “At least let me sleep first, please.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s okay,” Bucky says, then hauls Steve closer, so he can watch over him while he does exactly that.