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Bucky loves it when he wakes up earlier than you. He gets to see the way the lines of your face soften, your mouth opening in a slight 'o' as your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.
He resists the urge to trace your features with his finger, contenting himself with simply observing you, taking in the way the sunlight falls just right on you, bathing you in its beautiful radiance. He finds himself smiling as he watches, gently brushing aside the strand of hair that flutters onto your face and threatens to enter your mouth.
It's these quiet and peaceful moments that remind him why he fights so hard against his demons each day. He knows you wake up every time he thrashes about in his nightmares, and worry about him even long after he's fallen back asleep. He does the same for you, after all, for you find solace in each other's arms.
"Stop moving so much," you mutter, rolling to face the other side. He smiles, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek, all inhibitions gone now that he knows you're awake.
"Good morning to you too, love."
"Terrible morning," you huff into the pillow. "Woken up so early by this giant who won't stop moving."
"This giant who so happens to also be your boyfriend?" He grins, draping himself over you. He doesn't have to worry about crushing you under his weight, he knows you can handle it, and besides, it's nice to feel your warmth pressed against his skin. He smiles lazily at you, drawing circles on your forearm and sighs, contented. You give his cheek a poke of annoyance, eyes rolling as you struggle to worm your way out, and then you roll over again, throwing him off.
Bucky lands on the wooden floor with a yelp of pain, forehead colliding with the hard surface but you remain nestled in your comfy bed high above him, pulling the sheets up and tucking yourself in. You yawn, appreciating the fact that the bed is now fully yours but get a little worried when you don't hear your boyfriend pushing himself off the floor.
"Buck?"
"You wound me, babe. I'm trying to be a nice boyfriend and cuddle my beloved like every good boyfriend should but all I get in return is a bruise on the forehead after being thrown off the bed." His words are muffled by the wooden floorboards, his face still planted in them. He remains lying there, hoping that doing so will garner your sympathy but all you do is return to your cocoon of blankets, leaving him sadly lying on the floor.
"Good boyfriends don't wake their significant others before 10am."
"I think that's just you, babe. Most people wake up by 9."
"Really? And from which patch of thin air did you pull that information from?"
"Uh…this one?" He knows he's a goner the moment you sigh that one particular sigh.
"Amazing. Astounding." He can sense the sarcasm oozing from your words. "And how credible is that patch of thin air?"
"Very." He tries not to laugh as you audibly groan, clearly sick of his antics on this tired morning. He knows you had a rough night yesterday, but as if that's going to stop him from teasing you for a bit.
"I swear, Bucky. One of these days, I'm going to throw you out of the window."
"Not sure you can do that while cocooned in blankets." Bucky rolls over so that he's facing the ceiling, grinning cheekily. "Let me help you with that."
He pulls on the part of the sheet that hangs on the side of the bed frame, causing you to let out a shout as you come tumbling down, eyes flashing golden out of instinct but they quickly fade back to their normal colours when you realise where you're about to land. You let yourself fall onto Bucky, eliciting a grunt as you collide with him.
"You're heavy." He huffs, wrapping his arms around you.
"So are you!" You glare at him, but it only causes him to laugh. He nuzzles into your hair, happily purring as he soaks in your warmth, feeling you nestled in his embrace. Your gaze softens as he closes his eyes blissfully, delighting in the simple act of cuddling with you, even if it's on the floor.
"You know, if you wanted to cuddle, you could've just told me instead of doing…whatever it is you just did." You flip yourself around so that you're face to face with him. Mirth dances in your eyes, a reflection of his as he gently cups your cheek.
"But then I wouldn't get to enjoy this lovely view." His thumb traces over your cheekbone, a smile stretched across his face. The smile you return leaves him breathless, and he can feel his heart pounding within his chest, threatening to explode. Each and every day, he finds reason after reason to fall in love with you again, even after all these months.
You trace a finger along his jawbone, humming softly as you begin to play with his hair that's now cut short, a sign that he's left the Winter Soldier behind. Your fingers run through the short strands, gently massaging his scalp in his favourite way and he leans into the touch. You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, chuckling when his face scrunches up in response only to get booped in return. A sly grin crosses his features and you boop him back, feigning annoyance.
One of his hands finds its way to the back of your head, pulling you downwards so that his lips can meet yours in a fervent kiss, one that lasts as long as you can hold your breath because unlike him, you don't have the Super Soldier Serum coursing through your veins. You pull away, gasping for air and flick him in the forehead when he pouts at you.
"Not all of us have the fortune of superhuman stamina."
"Funny how that doesn't seem to bother you when —"
"Nope! No more!" You shush him with a finger pressed against his lips. A mischievous twinkle flickers in his eyes as you flop against him with a sigh of defeat. "You really enjoy getting on my nerves don't you?"
"Considering how I'm the only one who can get away with it, I think I should take advantage of my privilege." He rests his flesh hand on the back of your head, his metal one slipping into your right hand. Your fingers intertwine — metal with flesh and his metal thumb rubs circles on the back of your hand. He feels you relax against him, head resting on his shoulder as the both of you bask in the rare peaceful moment.
He trusts himself not to hurt you, he trusts that you can take care of yourself should he do so, but most of all, he trusts you to forgive him should he ever hurt you. He won't be able to forgive himself, but he knows you won't leave him. He doubts you will ever walk away from him, not when he is your entire world the same way you are his.
Sure, he may get jealous when men and ladies try to flirt with you at bars, but he's secure enough in your relationship to leave it be. He doesn't have to do anything, for you always find your way back to him at the end of it. There have been quite a few times where the night has ended with you beating a number of people up, stalking over to him, grabbing him by the arm and furiously marching out of the bar. He finds it funny, although the people you beat up probably don't.
"Should we invest in a coffee machine?" You ask out of the blue, breaking the tranquil moment.
"Hmm?" Never had he thought there would come a time in his life where he would be asked such a mundane question. Hydra had stripped that all away from him and he never thought he'd get it back, but here he was, cuddling his beloved who had just asked him about getting a coffee machine. No weapons, no targets, no missions. Just…a coffee machine.
"I'm getting sick of all the convenience store coffee. I want some good stuff." You remain resting in your cosy spot atop your boyfriend, mindlessly trailing your fingers along his forearm with your free hand.
"And what makes you think you can make the 'good stuff'? For all you know you could end up making convenience store coffee with the machine." He flashes a cheeky smirk which you try to wipe off immediately.
"I'll just…follow online recipes or something!" You huff, pouting at him. "Do you really have that little faith in me?"
"You haven't exactly given me much hope ever since your stint in the kitchen." He laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest.
"That — that was an accident!"
"Sure was, love."
"Ugh!" You face plant into his shoulder.
He laughs even harder and you can't help but smile.
"Alright love, one last chance. Surely you can't burn down the entire kitchen with a coffee machine." He ruffles your hair. "Don't take it as a challenge."
"Wasn't going to. I like my coffee enough for that," you mumble.
"I sure hope you do." He presses a final kiss to your forehead before gently pushing you off him so that he can stand. "Let's go get one then."
"After some research. The Internet exists you know, old man?"
He snorts, retracting the helping hand he had just extended to help you off the floor. "That's it, you're on your own now."
"Hey!" You scramble to your feet, fingers barely gripping onto his singlet. "You're stuck with me, like it not, boyfriend!"
He only laughs, sweeping you off your feet as he lifts you into a bridal carry. "How unfortunate, but for who I wonder."
"The both of us, I reckon." You grin up at him. "No take backsies."
"No take backsies." He agrees, heart fluttering as his gaze meets yours. He really is the luckiest man in the universe, to call you his. He really wouldn't want it any other way.