forum Marvel AU OxO?

Started November 29, 2019 by @ElderGod-Icefire

tune

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.

"You'd rather be called an assassin, rather than cute?" Steve raised an eyebrow, smiling, "Plus– everyone else thinks it was cute, and they're gonna think this photo's cute too. You're outnumbered." I love democracy.

"Wait, you're going to show them?" Bucky asked, sitting up straight and looking at Steve. "Besides, I'm over six feet tall. I can't be cute. Cute things are…tiny." he held up his hands and squished them together to demonstrate.

"I mean…I don't have to if you don't want me to." He explained, smiling at Bucky's description of cute things,
"I don't know where you heard that from, but it's not always true, so…" Steve shrugged, looking at the ground and trying not to blush. "You're cute," He smiled softly, "End of story."

Bucky wrinkled his nose a little bit, looking at Steve for a long moment. He shrugged slightly. "I'm not cute." he insisted again, shaking his head at Steve.

"What'll it take to convince you?" Steve said, his tone more teasing than he meant it to be, "You can't see yourself smile, or laugh, or sleep– how can you disagree with what you can't perceive?" He smiled, remembering the way he grinned before the war, and how it was almost the same now.

Bucky rolled his eyes slightly. "I don't know." he replied with another shrug. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at Steve.

Steve sighed, anyways, "So, what happened in here?" He gestured to the room, at the covers strewn about, and his little 'nest.'

"I…couldn't sleep on the bed." Bucky replied, eyes flickering to the mattress, then to his pile of blankets and pillows. He hadn't been able to stomach the idea, since he hadn't slept in a mattress in HYDRA. Not unless…he pushed that fragment of memory away.

"Was it not comfortable? Or…?" Steve prompted, remembering his own discomfort after he was off the ice; Sam had felt the same way, 'Too soft, like sleeping on a cloud.' It had taken some getting used to, but nothing a little melatonin couldn't fix.

Bucky shrugged a little bit. "Brought back the wrong…memories." he replied slowly, shaking his head. His blue eyes were distant, cold, not wanting to talk about what exactly he had remembered.

"Hmm." Steve simply said, looking at his hands, "But you remember you can tell me those memories, right?" He said slowly, "You don't have to, but– you already know that I can handle it."

Bucky shrugged again. "I know." he replied simply. But he didn't think he could. Not right now. Talking about it…would make it too firm and solid in his mind. And he didn't want that right now.

Steve sighed, relieved that Bucky knew that he was there for him. "Okay," He said quietly, looking at him before slowly rising up, "I'm going to make some pancakes downstairs. Come down when you're ready?" Steve smiled, his hand on the door as he surveyed the state of the bedroom one last time.

Bucky nodded. "Alright." Once Steve had left the room, he got up, putting the blankets and pillows on the bed in a messy pile. He got dressed, then used the bathroom. He found a razor, too, and shaved off the stubble that had started to grow on his chin.

Steve made his way to the kitchen, smiling at the morning sun glowing through the tall windows. He put on some old music as he prepared all the ingredients, checking with JARVIS to see if he'd missed anything. Soon enough they were done, sitting in neat stacks with chopped fruit on the side, waiting for a waterfall of maple syrup.