Steve laughed, remembering Sam's expression after Bucky near choked him to death, "Yeah, the pictures…" He smiled fondly, it wouldn't be so bad if Bucky felt the same way about it, and the kiss…it was going to be an exhausting reminder. "They'll be talking about that for weeks."
Bucky sighed. "Weeks, huh? Won't that be terrifying." he replied, shaking his head slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip just a little bit.
"Yeah, but it's staying on the fridge." Steve chuckled, nodding to it, "Once it's on there, it's not coming off. If we stay here, we're gonna see it every day." If we stay here, His mind repeated, Together.
Bucky shrugged slightly. "Mm. That's…mildly disconcerting." he replied, glancing at the fridge. "Though it's going to be one of many images, so I'm sure it won't be that bad."
"We'll get em' back." Steve nodded, For that dare, too.
"And it wasn't that bad…The photo– you're pretty cute when you're asleep." He smiled to himself, almost choking on his breath and really feeling that Asgardian stuff hit him, I said that out loud?
(I gtg soonish)
Bucky blinked in surprise. "I'm not cute." He insisted grumpily. "I'm an assassin." He was being grumpy to cover up the fact that something inside of him was flipping at Steve's words.
"And who said assassins couldn't be cute?" Steve smiled, deciding to roll with it and blame it on how tipsy he was if things went the wrong way, "Plus– you don't kill people anymore, so…yeah." He chuckled, leaning against the kitchen island and looking down shyly. "You're cute, jerk."
That was it. Bucky's heart was doing something strange inside of him. He swallowed hard. "I-I…" he didn't know what to do. What to say. How to feel, with all these feelings and emotions swirling through him. He ran his hands through his hair.
“Relax, i’m just messing with you.” Steve said with a quick smile, slowly making his way to the door and leaning against the door, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Bucky inhaled. "Ah. Right. Of course." he said, not looking at Steve. He felt vaguely disappointed. As if he…he wanted Steve to have meant it? But…no. No, that wasn't…Steve didn't mean it.
"Right." Steve sighed, feeling the smooth paint of the door and slowly wrapping his hand around the door handle, Cause that's all it will ever be; a joke, "–Well, it's late, and…we should probably get some sleep."
Bucky nodded, and followed Steve out of the room and towards their rooms. "Yeah." He agreed softly. Even if he wanted it…he knew he couldn't have Steve. Not like that. It was just a joke.
Steve hesitated, his hand inches from the door to his own room, right next to Bucky's door. His eyes lingered on his face for a moment, "Goodnight, Buck. I'll see you in the morning."
Bucky nodded. "Yeah. See you." He replied. He swallowed, then went into his own room, closing the door behind him. He let out a breath. God, what was he going to do?
(I won't be super active tonight, btw)
Steve stumbled into his room, freezing as his breath caught in his throat. Not at all how I thought this evening might go. He didn't bother with turning the light on, tiredly moving towards his bed and peeling his shirt off as he walked, collapsing into the smooth bed with a soft thump. Why am I thinking about this? He won't want…whatever it is that I want.
(its all good)
Bucky changed, and then snuggled into the nest of blankets and pillows that he had created earlier that day. He fell asleep after a while, buried beneath the blankets.
(skip? any ideas for the next day?)
(sure! and…not really lmao)
Blinding light. A heavy glow of gold seeping through the curtains and bouncing across the walls of his room. It was quieter than his own apartment— no police cars or honking horns to wake him up. What time is it? Steve groaned, rolling over from beneath the covers, a quiet hum in the back of his head threatening to turn into a headache. He slowly dragged himself from the bed, heading to the closet and changing into whatever looked comfortable.
(0_0 oof, time to scour tumblr for some prompts)
Bucky was still asleep in his nest of blankets and pillows, his body buried and mostly hidden. He was sleeping soundly, not waking up just yet.
(lmao alright)
(should steve walk in to see if he was awake and see the nest and `0_0?)
(yeesss perfect lol)
Stev rubbed his eyes as he moved towards their connecting door. He paused, knocking gently, "Bucky? You awake?" There was no answer, and after another silent moment, he gripped the handle and entered quietly, his mouth curling into a soft smile at the sight of him. This is how I wanted to start my morning.
He scrambled for his phone, reminding himself how to unlock his phone and cautiously capturing the scene like a wildlife photographer. So cute.
Bucky was still curled up, buried beneath the mound of blankets with his brown hair fanning out around his head. He really did look rather cute, his features relaxed in sleep, face less haunted now than it seemed in the daytime. He shifted, rolling over and onto his side.
"Oh my," Steve whispered gingerly, creeping closer at the precious sight of him. He crouched and sat a good distance away, smiling softly at him.
"Bucky?" He said softly, not wanting to startle him or wake him in a fit of hostility,
Bucky shifted a little, eyelids flickering open. He blinked sleepily, focusing on Steve after a moment. He stretched a little bit, silent.
Steve rested his chin in the palm of his hand, smiling at Bucky like he was everything he could ever ask for, (and he was.)
"I get why Sam took that photo now." He chuckled, trying to remind himself that this wasn't some placid dream of a morning so quiet it didn't seem real.
Bucky blinked. "You…do?" He replied slowly. His voice was raspy and hoarse from sleeping, slightly slurred and not quite awake yet.
"Yeah…I mean–" Steve said, pulling out his phone and attempting to find the photo. Perfect. Just perfect. He smiled at the image; the tired brunet curled into a ball of tangled blankets, nestled in a little cove of pillows, "It's going to become a competition; Who Can Get the Cutest Photo of Bucky?"
Bucky wrinkled his nose a little bit. "I've said it before; I'm an assassin, I'm not cute." He protested, sighing softly and running a hand through his hair, which was messy now.