Bucky runs his hand over the pale expanse of bare skin in front of him. His head is cradled in the soft slope at the small of Steve’s back and all he can see is the rise of Steve’s shoulder and his mussed hair beyond it.
“I always forget how useless you are after you fuck me,” Bucky says.
Steve makes a soft humming noise that sounds like a laugh. Bucky feels it rumble beneath his cheek.
“It’s all pull out and roll over and go to sleep.”
“I always knew in my heart I was a 1950s husband,” Steve says.
“Meanwhile I’m left to live a quiet life of desperation, cigarettes, and constant drunkenness.”
“You’d make such a perfect housewife, darling.”
Bucky can hear the smile in Steve’s voice and he runs a finger from one freckle to another on Steve’s back as he shivers beneath the touch.
“I feel a great kinship to Betty Draper right now,” Bucky says.
Steve laughs out loud at that and turns his head enough to peer over his shoulder at Bucky.
“Can you blame me though?” he asks. “I know you’re not able to admire your own ass but let me assure you it’s really fucking amazing. It’s exhausting work worshipping it as it was meant to be worshipped.”
A loud bark of laughter escapes Bucky’s mouth. Steve is utterly ridiculous. “So my ass is to blame?”
Steve says, “Yes,” without an ounce of embarrassment.
“Well,” Bucky says as he turns himself over onto his stomach. “If we’re blaming asses right now I’d like to lodge a formal complaint about this one.” Bucky gives Steve’s ass a slap which makes him jump and start to laugh.
“Oh, I know my ass is fantastic. I won’t argue with you on that.”
“Always so modest,” Bucky says as he presses a kiss to the slightly pink skin and runs his hand over the perfect curve. Not that Bucky can fault him for his bragging, Steve’s ass makes him nearly crazy with want. He’s sure he could spend hours lying between Steve’s legs with his face buried in it; licking, kissing, fucking his tongue into Steve until he makes those desperate little whimpering noises that make Bucky’s cock ache. Hours and hours until Steve is senseless and crying from it.
It’s just one of the many things Bucky wants.
And that’s been the problem this past year; so much Bucky craves, but so little time. He takes what he can get, grabbing an hour here, two there, whenever Steve can get away from his courses, his needy students, and all the other things that keep him from Bucky. They seem to be endless, those things, and sometimes Bucky wonders where he even falls on the list. Is he near the top? Somewhere in the middle maybe? He hopes for the former but assumes it’s the latter. He doesn’t fool himself into thinking this thing the two of them have is as important to Steve as it is to him. Sometimes he thinks he’ll lose Steve if he ever finds out what it actually means to him, it’s just too much, and Steve has never claimed to want that.
It’s meant to be casual, all of it, but for Bucky that was months and endless kisses and fucks ago. Sometimes he wants the ability to go back in time just to be able to laugh at his younger self; laugh and point at him when he first fucks Steve and thinks that’s all it will ever be. He’d laugh as he tells him how he’ll agree to see Steve again and how, that next time, Steve will kiss him slow and sweet and it will never be casual again. He wonders what it would be like to watch himself fall.
There has never been anyone like this, like Steve, and Bucky is ill-equipped to handle it. He feels like he’s flying through a dark night at a terrifying speed, out of control and helpless, and it’s only by a goddamn miracle he hasn’t crashed and burned.
Steve moves under his touch, arches into him, greedy and absolutely shameless about it. Steve is never shy and it utterly fascinates Bucky the way he opens up, the freedom and comfort he has in his own body. Bucky’s never been that way with another person, but maybe it’s only because he wasn’t with Steve before. He couldn’t let go until he found him.
Bucky bites down lightly on Steve’s ass as he moves his hips against the bed, rubbing his cock against the sheets. Steve moans, says Bucky’s name in that way of his that means, ‘yes, yes, so good,’ and ‘come on already, more, I want more.’
Bucky is about to get up on his knees so he can move over and settle himself between Steve’s thighs and give his ass proper attention when his phone rings.
“Shit,” he mumbles as he presses another kiss to Steve’s ass. “Ignore it. I’m not answering.”
But Steve being Steve, ignores him and grabs the phone off the bedside table.
“Fuck, is that the time?” he says as he rolls away from Bucky and off the bed. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll miss the 6:00 train.” Steve tosses the phone onto the bed next to Bucky. “It’s Natasha, you better answer.”
Bucky frowns as he watches Steve start to collect his clothes. Out of sheer stubbornness he presses ignore and drops the phone back on the bed. Steve sees what he does and laughs at him.
“You’re such a child.”
“Come back to bed,” he says as he reaches out and grabs Steve around the waist. He manages to drag him close enough to steal a kiss but afterward Steve squirms out of his arms.
“It’s snowing like crazy and you know how the trains get when the weather is like this. It’s bad enough on a Friday without snow.”
Steve is tugging on his jeans and carefully tucking his half-hard cock in after having obviously given up on finding his underwear. Bucky gets out of bed and wraps his arms around Steve from behind, presses his nose into Steve’s neck and nips at the still bare skin.
“Bucky,” Steve says, voice trying to be firm, but he turns in Bucky’s arms and starts kissing him.
Bucky slips his hand down to Steve’s ass and grabs on, pulls him closer. Fuck, just the thought of Steve naked under his jeans is enough to get Bucky begging again.
“I was just getting started,” he says as he presses a couple of fingers into the seam of Steve’s jeans, pushing between the cheeks of his ass and not being a bit subtle about what he wants.
Steve gasps against Bucky’s lips. “Trust me,” he says, “I’d much rather stay here and let you eat me out than sit on that goddamn train for two hours.”
“Then stay,” Bucky says.
Steve presses one more kiss against Bucky’s lips then pulls away to start putting on his shirt. “I wish I could.”
Bucky wants to ask what’s stopping him, why can’t he just stay? He knows Steve goes out to check on his mother every Friday night and stays until Saturday morning, has done ever since Sarah got sick, but she’s better - thank god - and it’s really just habit now. Sarah wouldn’t be upset if Steve missed one Friday, especially not in this weather. There’s no reason at all why he shouldn’t stay.
Except the fact that’s not what they do.
They don’t stay, they fuck and go, and that’s that.
Bucky doesn’t bother to get dressed as he follows Steve out into the living room. He watches as Steve gets his coat, hat, and gloves on then hops around trying to get his boots on and tie them up with his gloved hands. Bucky has to smile because sometimes Steve is a bit of an idiot and he can’t believe Brooklyn College actually pays him to educate and shape young minds.
“Need me to tie your shoes for you?” Bucky asks.
Steve huffs out a laugh. “Shut up.”
Bucky’s phone starts ringing again and he sighs. Natasha. For fucksake.
Steve leans in for a quick kiss goodbye. “Better answer it,” he says. “You know she’ll just keep calling until you do.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky says as he walks Steve to the door. Steve laughs when he stays standing in the entryway even as Steve yanks the door open. “Eh,” Bucky shrugs. “It’s not like they haven’t seen it before.”
“You routinely roam your building’s hallways naked?” Steve asks. “I should move here.”
You should, Bucky thinks, instead he just rolls his eyes.
“I meant a naked man, you know, in the general sense, not in the ‘I’m the creepy, weirdo nudist in the building’ kind of way.”
“Ah,” Steve says as he smiles at Bucky and pats him on the chest. “Good to know. Saves me the hassle of packing up and moving.” Steve is halfway out the door when he adds, “But if it ever does change to the Barnes Nudist Colony be sure to let me know.”
Bucky just snorts and puts his hand over Steve’s face to shove him out the door.
He closes the door behind him and walks over to the window that looks down on the street. He’s tempted to open it up and shout down to Steve to come back up. When he looks out and sees how heavily the snow is coming down he makes up his mind to do it. Neither one of them paid any attention to how much it was snowing when Steve was getting dressed. The trains will be an utter disaster and Steve will probably end up sitting at the station waiting on delays in a massive crowd of pissed off people wanting to get home.
When he sees Steve’s red hat appear out on the street he unlocks his window and opens it up.
“Hey! Professor!” he shouts as he sticks his head out the window. He laughs when Steve stops and starts looking around. “Up here.”
Steve looks up and laughs. “Oh my god, you’re naked! Get back inside. You’ll literally freeze your balls off.”
“Come back up.”
“I already told you I can’t, I’ll miss the train.”
“You know the trains will be delayed and the station will be hellacious, come back up and stay. Catch the 9:00. I’ll make dinner.”
“You cook?” Steve asks.
“Don’t act so surprised, I’m a good cook.”
“Besides, I haven’t sucked you off yet. I was planning on giving you a hell of a blow job today.”
Steve’s laugh is loud and clear, caught somewhere between embarrassed as fuck and highly amused. “Bucky! There are children out here, quit talking filth.”
“You’re the only one on the street right now, you idiot,” Bucky says and Steve just laughs at him again.
“Well, there could’ve been children.”
“Dammit, Steve, just get up here. I’m freezing my balls off.”
“God. Fine!” Steve shouts. “Buzz me back in, asshole. And you better be on your knees when I get up there.”
Bucky laughs and shuts the window. He’s tempted to say something embarrassing when he buzzes Steve in but he just smiles and imagines Steve’s stupid grinning face as he rushes back inside.
“Get out of the door you fucking exhibitionist.” Steve says when he gets back to Bucky’s apartment. He pushes Bucky back inside as he starts to unzip his jeans. “Didn’t I tell you to be on your knees?”
Bucky grins and tugs Steve’s jeans down his hips as he kneels down in front of him. “Happy?” he asks.
“I’d be much happier with my dick in your mouth, but take your time,” Steve says as he waves his hand around.
“Sarcasm isn’t cute, Steve.
“I’m always cute.”
Bucky snorts at that but he leans in and licks the tip of Steve’s cock and the sharp hiss of breath out of Steve’s mouth as his hips push forward makes Bucky want to smirk with satisfaction. Steve can be such a little shit but Bucky knows exactly how to shut him up.
He grabs Steve’s hips and holds him in place, he presses his thumbs into his hipbones and when he looks up Steve’s eyes are already starting to glaze over. He knows how much Steve loves being held just that little bit too tightly and he digs his thumbs in a little more. Steve sighs and when he does Bucky takes him in his mouth; just halfway, just to get the taste of him on his tongue, before he opens up his throat and takes as much of Steve’s cock as he can.
Steve’s hands are in his hair holding on as he slowly fucks into Bucky’s mouth.
Bucky holds Steve’s hips still as he pulls back, when he does Steve’s fingers untangle themselves from his hair and slowly trail down the sides of his face and along his jaw. It’s such a gentle touch and Bucky leans in, presses his face against Steve’s hipbone and wraps his arms around his waist. He’s on his knees hugging Steve and Steve lets him; lets him hold on. He kisses across Steve’s skin; a trail from hip to hip and back to nuzzle into the curls at the base of Steve’s cock, his scent fills Bucky’s nose and he breathes him in.
It’s so quiet around them, the falling snow muffling any noise from the street outside, and Bucky loves Steve an unbearable amount. He tightens his hold around Steve’s waist, he wants to say so many things to him but he’ll never stop if he starts and he doesn’t want to lose Steve just now.
“Bucky?” Steve’s voice is quiet, questioning, and Bucky looks up at him, shakes his head and smiles. Steve’s cock is hard and warm, pressing against Bucky’s chest and he knows Steve is probably aching to come so he lets go of Steve’s waist and wraps his fingers around the base of his cock. He strokes him slowly a few times before taking him in his mouth again. Steve must have been on the very edge when Bucky stopped before because it doesn’t take long before Steve draws in a breath and drags his fingers down Bucky’s neck in warning, but Bucky stays where he is and lets the heat of Steve’s come hit the back of his throat.
“Bucky,” Steve says his name again, only this time the pleasure is clear in his voice. “Fuck. Your mouth.”
“Was it worth coming back up?” Bucky teases once he’s let Steve slip from his mouth.
“Shut up,” Steve says with a shaky laugh as he sinks to his knees next to Bucky and takes Bucky’s cock in his hand. “Smug asshole.”
Bucky laughs and buries his face in Steve’s neck as he strokes him through a slow, sweet orgasm -- all that’s left of him after they’ve been fucking each other’s brains out the entire afternoon.
They both collapse into a heap on the floor. Steve sits with his back against the wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him and Bucky curls up against his side.
“I can’t even be bothered to put my dick back in my pants right now,” Steve says and Bucky laughs.
“I’m telling you, nudity is the way to go.”
“Yeah, when you look like you it is.”
Bucky rolls his eyes. “You’re not five foot nothing any more, you’ve got to realize you look like a fucking Greek god, right?
Steve just leans down and kisses the top of Bucky’s head. “Sure, whatever you say.”
Bucky doesn’t say anything for a bit, just presses his face into Steve’s shoulder, but Steve needs to hear what he wants to say to him so he whispers it and hopes the quietness of it makes it less overwhelming somehow.
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.”
And he means it, the sincerity in his voice would be saccharine in any other moment, but Steve is always so self-deprecating, so stuck in the past and how he used to look and all of the shit he had to take because of it, that sometimes Bucky doesn’t know if Steve actually believes the things he says.
Steve is quiet for a moment but then Bucky feels the tentative touch of his fingers on the back of his neck before they tangle in the hair at his nape.
“Thank you,” Steve says.
It’s quiet but Bucky hears it. Steve’s fingers tighten just a bit, holding him closer against his side, and Bucky’s glad he said it.
“So. Where’s my food?” Steve asks. “I was promised blow jobs and food.”
“You really are a dick of 1950s husband, aren’t you?”
Steve laughs and Bucky slaps the back of his hand against Steve’s stomach before he gets up to put some clothes on. Steve gets to his feet as well and starts yanking up his jeans as he follows Bucky back into the bedroom.
“If you spot my underwear toss them over,” he says.
“Are they your favorite?” Bucky teases.
“Yes, they’re my favorite panties and I want them back.”
Bucky grins. “And now I want to see you in lacy, frilly panties. Thanks for that image.”
“I’d wear them.”
“Oh, I know you would.”
“Mostly because my cock is exhausted and chafing like mad against these damn jeans.”
“Annnd the fantasy is ruined,” Bucky says as he pulls out the bottom drawer of his dresser and gets an old pair of pajama bottoms out for Steve. “Here, wear these.”
“Christ. Thanks,” Steve says as he instantly starts to peal off his jeans and kick them across the room.
“See, this is why we have an underwear situation,” Bucky says as he picks up the jeans and tosses them on his reading chair in the corner.
Steve just laughs and puts on the pajamas. “And here I was thinking you’d find it sexy that I can barely control my lust for you that I fling my clothes across the room the moment I’m in your presence.”
“I always love hearing how things play in your head, they’re so very different from reality.”
By now Bucky’s in a pair of pajama bottoms of his own and a dearly loved, worn-thin t-shirt. Steve comes over and slips his arms around Bucky’s waist and up underneath the shirt.
“Liar. You find it totally sexy.”
Bucky laughs quietly as he drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders and leans into him. “Maybe a little.”
“You also secretly love when I leave my underwear over because you’re a fucking deviant who loves sniffing them when I’m gone.”
Bucky laughs, loudly and happily.
“Yes,” he says. “You’re absolutely right. I sniff them, and sleep with them under my pillow.”
Steve nods sagely. “Because you pine.”
“Yes, because I pine.”
“And you’re a dirty, filthy pervert.”
“And I’m a dirty, filthy pervert,” Bucky agrees.
He can feel Steve smiling against his neck and he loves him so much right then that he has to step away from him before he gives himself away.
“Food then?” he asks as he claps his hands together. “I’m thinking some stir-fry, how does that sound?”
“Amazing,” Steve says as he follows him to the kitchen. “Although if I’m being totally honest, you’ve fucked me into starvation so I’d eat a bath mat right now if you put some mustard on it.”
“Lovely,” Bucky says as he rolls his eyes.
The first thing Steve does once he’s in the kitchen is to pick up a knife and start gesturing at Bucky by making stabbing motions at him. “Is there anything I can chop?”
“Not if you’re going to stab me first,” Bucky answers.
“Hey, I’m an excellent chopper.”
Bucky just looks at him, eyebrow raised.
“Okay,” Steve concedes. “I’m a fairly good chopper?”
Bucky’s eyebrow raises even higher.
“How about a mediocre one?” Steve tries.
“Steve,” Bucky says. “Have you ever chopped anything before in your life?”
“Not as such, no, but I’m sure it can’t be all that difficult. I’ve seen children do it on MasterChef Junior.”
“Ah, well, good then. I totally trust you with a knife now. You’ve watched MasterChef Junior.”
Steve huffs. “Well, you don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.”
Bucky takes the knife out of Steve’s hand and pushes him towards the table. “Go. Sit. Just watch and look pretty.”
“I can do that,” Steve says cheerfully, but ducks away from Bucky so he can go grab a beer from the fridge before sitting down at the table. “I’ll just sit here and look adoringly at you.”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
Steve laughs and sits back to watch as Bucky gets their dinner ready. They’ve never had any problems filling the silence between them. Bucky adores hearing every brilliant, ridiculous, and idiotic thing that comes out of Steve’s mouth, and for some reason Steve finds him equally intriguing. So Bucky cooks and Steve sits on his chair and drinks his beer and it’s painfully mundane and simple but Bucky makes himself take note of the moment. He wants to store it some place safe where it’ll always be when he needs it.
When the food is done Bucky enjoys watching Steve devour it more than he enjoys eating it himself. He thinks it’s probably best they’ve never gone on a proper date before, like out to a restaurant, because Steve makes obscene moans of pleasure as he eats and Bucky has the sneaking suspicion that having a half-hard cock throughout an entire meal in public is probably pretty well near the top of embarrassing things to have happen on a date. So he happily sits in the privacy of his own home and watches Steve as he eats his food, practically licking the plate clean, before he eats half of Bucky’s food as well.
“If we keep eating together I’ll have a damn belly by the time I’m thirty-five,” Steve says as he reaches his fork across to Bucky’s plate for about the fifteenth time.
“That’s alright,” Bucky says. “I think I’d like you slightly squishy.”
Steve snorts out a laugh. “Oh, thanks for that.”
“What?” Bucky asks as he pushes his plate closer to Steve and leans back in his chair. “I find it sexy. Don’t shame me, Steve.”
Steve grins at him and Bucky knows his own responding grin probably looks a bit on the crazy side, but he doesn’t particularly care in the moment.
Steve scrapes up the rest of Bucky’s food and drops his fork next to the plate. He lets out another one of his obscene moans as he slides down in his chair. “I’m so full, I’m gonna die.”
“You’re going to slide off your chair is what you’re doing to do,” Bucky says as he watches Steve slip even further down.
“Just let me go,” Steve says. “I’ll just lie here under the table until I can walk again.”
“Oh, like a little kitchen goblin,” Bucky says as he gets up and starts gathering up their plates and utensils. “How cute.”
Steve gives him that little look of his where he scrunches up his face and raises an eyebrow. “You know, I should probably worry about your strange little kinks -- squishy goblins and underwear sniffing -- but you’re an amazing fuck so I’ll let it slide. Just don’t ever do weird things to me in my sleep, please, and we’ll be good.”
“Don’t worry, nothing strange will be done to you in your sleep,” Bucky says. “I’ll be too busy watching you sleep as I rub my nipples to do much else.”
Steve’s laugh turns into a groan as he rubs his hand over his stomach. “Oh God, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
“See where your gluttony gets you?”
“It gets me squishy in the middle, just how you like me,” Steve says.
Bucky looks over his shoulder and sees Steve grinning back at him and, well, he can’t really argue with that logic.
Once all of the dishes are in the dishwasher, with no help at all from Steve, Bucky pulls him up off his chair and into the living room to sit him down in front of the TV. Steve spends an inordinate amount of time making fun of the shows Bucky has saved up on his DVR. He’s laughing so hard at Steve’s disgust that when he yells at him, ‘An entire season of America’s Got Talent, Bucky? The entire season? You’re the actual worst.’ he’s near tears.
“You watch MasterChef Junior,” Bucky says, like that makes any sort of case in his favor.
“Hey, those kids are fucking amazing,” Steve says. “They taught me everything I know about chopping.”
And that only makes Bucky laugh more, but Steve is laughing by then too, and by the time Steve realizes he’d started an episode of America’s Got Talent they’re fifteen minutes into it and Steve doesn’t turn it off because he says he needs to see if the dude with the trained cats gets in.
Bucky considers it a victory, for him, and for shitty reality TV everywhere.
“Your taste in TV is still the actual worst,” Steve says a few minutes later, but he’s slumped against Bucky’s side and Bucky really doesn’t give a shit either way.
They’ve watched three episodes and Steve has claimed at least seven times that he’s gotten stupider with every episode, when Bucky checks on the weather and train delays.
“Oh shit,” he says.
“What?” Steve asks.
“It’s really fucking snowing, they’ve suspended all trains. I’m sorry, Steve, I had no idea it was that bad out.”
“Is everything down?”
“Looks like,” Bucky says as he shows Steve his phone.
“Fuck,” Steve says as he gets up and goes to look out the window.
Bucky joins him and sees how heavy the snow is coming down, and how thick it already is on the sidewalk and street. The cars parked along the street look like little white humps.
“I’m sorry,” Bucky says again.
“It’s not your fault.”
“But I made you come back up, maybe if you’d gone you’d have caught a train.”
“I doubt it,” Steve says, still looking out the window. “Don’t worry about it, it’s definitely not your fault.”
Bucky leans into Steve’s side. “Still sorry though, will your mom be upset?”
Steve had called her when Bucky was making dinner for the two of them to tell her he was going to be late.
“Of course not, she’ll be happy I’m staying put in weather like this. I’m just sorry I’ll have to impose on you. I mean, I guess I could find a hotel or something. Walk there maybe —”
“Jesus Christ, don’t even. Stay. You’re fine.”
“I can take the couch.”
“Like hell you will. I mean I fucking love my couch but my bed is so much better.”
Bucky can see the corner of Steve’s mouth turn up.
“I could say a lot of dirty shit right now, but I’ll refrain.”
Bucky laughs. “Well, you wouldn’t be lyin’.”
Steve turns to look at him. “True.” The way he says it, the way he looks at him, makes Bucky’s insides do crazy shit.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” Bucky tries for teasing.
Steve turns into him, hooks an arm around Bucky’s waist. “You really don’t mind me staying then?”
“Not even a little bit,” Bucky says. “You can stay the weekend. If you want. I mean it doesn’t look like the snow is going to stop any time soon and it’ll probably be a pain in the ass for you to get home. They should have everything sorted by Monday morning though so you can just head out to your classes.”
Steve’s thumb has found its way underneath the waistband of Bucky’s pajama bottoms and is rubbing slow circles on his hip. Steve’s not looking him in the eyes, instead he’s looking at Bucky’s neck and Bucky’s afraid he’s said something stupid, saying Steve can stay the weekend. They’ve never spent the night together, much less an entire weekend, and it was probably really fucking stupid of Bucky to suggest it. Maybe he should offer to bring up nearby hotels on his phone, say he’s kidding, say —
“Like a sleepover?”
Bucky thinks Steve’s joking, laughing at him, but his voice is quiet, his breath warm on Bucky’s neck.
“We can do each other’s nails,” Bucky says just as quietly.
“If I fall asleep before you promise not to put my bra in the freezer.”
Steve’s other arm goes around Bucky and his lips brush against Bucky’s neck.
“I can’t make that promise,” Bucky says.
There’s a small puff of air against Bucky’s neck as Steve lets out a quiet little laugh and then his lips are on Bucky’s. He wraps his arms around Steve and kisses back, moves them both back toward the couch. Steve trips a bit on the corner of it and they both go sprawling down onto it, Bucky landing on top of Steve.
“You’re just trying to get me to watch more episodes of America’s Got Talent, aren’t you?” Steve asks and Bucky laughs against his lips.
“Absolutely. One hundred percent.”
Bucky can feel Steve’s smile against his lips, it’s one of his favorite things the way Steve kisses him through smiles.
“I really do want to see how far cat guy gets,” Steve says.
Bucky laughs. “You’re an idiot.”
“The man trained cats, Buck. That’s talent.”
Bucky rolls off of Steve and reaches for the TV remote. “Fine. Sit there and watch weird, creepy cat guy.”
“No, don’t leave,” Steve says and grabs Bucky’s wrist to pull him back to the couch. Steve shifts to his side and drags Bucky down in front of him. “Stay with me and the weird, creepy cat guy.”
“You’re going to murder me in my sleep, aren’t you?”
“I may, my herd of cats are hungry and they’ve grown accustomed to the taste of human flesh.”
“Yeah, okay,” Bucky says as he settles himself more comfortably in Steve’s arms. “That came to you way too naturally. I’m gonna text Natasha and tell her where to find my body if I disappear.”
Steve ignores him. “Speaking of Natasha, why has she stopped calling? She’s usually not deterred by you ignoring her.”
“She hasn’t stopped. I just silenced my phone.”
“Oh my god, you’re in so much trouble.”
“Like I’m scared of Natasha.”
“Are you kidding me?” Steve says. “You’re terrified of her.”
“I am not!”
Steve gets up on an elbow so he can look down at Bucky. “Liar.”
“I’m not terrified of her.”
“Okay, so what’s an adjective that means a miniscule level down from terrified then?”
Bucky elbows Steve in the stomach. “Shut the fuck up.”
Steve snorts out an, ‘ow’ and settles back down behind Bucky. “You better at least text her to appease her a little bit.”
“Whatever. She’s my editor, not my mother.”
Steve’s hand sneaks up under Bucky’s t-shirt, starts rubbing his stomach. “You’ve already texted her, haven’t you?”
“No,” Bucky huffs as he starts up the next episode of America’s Got Talent and turns the volume up.
“You totally texted her.”
Bucky mutters, “Shut up,” and Steve laughs and hugs Bucky closer.
“I don’t blame you, I don’t even know her and I’m terrified of her.”
Bucky rolls his eyes but grins anyway. Steve’s an asshole, but he’s a sweet one.
“Whatever. Just be quiet and watch your creepy cat boyfriend.”
After seven more episodes they’re both nearly asleep so they stumble to Bucky’s bedroom. They stand at the end of the bed and look at each other.
“Left?” Bucky asks.
“Right,” Steve answers.
Bucky smiles. “Perfect.”
“It’s like we were made for sleepovers,” Steve says.
The words surprise Bucky and he looks over and thinks he sees a slight blush rise up Steve’s face as he ducks his head and crawls into the right side of the bed.
“I’m warning you, I snore like a fucking chainsaw,” Bucky says as he gets in next to Steve.
“I knew you’d think so.”
Steve laughs and they both settle on their backs. Bucky stares up at the ceiling for a few awkward minutes, he feels Steve fidgeting beside him.
“This is not at all awkward,” Steve says into the quiet, and his tone is so dry and flat Bucky snorts out a laugh.
“I love that we’ve repeatedly had our dicks in each other’s asses but sleeping in a bed is what’s weirding us out.”
“It does say a lot about us,” Steve says.
“That we’re damaged, abnormal human beings?” Bucky asks.
Steve turns to his side and Bucky can feel him staring at him so he looks over at him. It’s just light enough in the room to make out Steve’s stupid, grinning face. It’s a really fucking perfect face.
“Should we cuddle?” Steve asks. “Or shouldn’t we do something so normal?”
“I think we should do something awkward and weird,” Bucky answers.
“Should we touch feet then? I think if we touch feet that would be weird and unsettling.”
Bucky’s laugh is quiet, happy. “I’d fucking love to touch feet with you in a weird and unsettling way.”
Bucky can see Steve’s grin get wider. “Good. I’m totally into feet,” he says as he turns out his foot and presses it against Bucky’s.
“Oh my fucking god, go to sleep weirdo.”
Steve laughs. “‘Night.”