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Bucky wakes up from a very fitful sleep in the middle of the night. This has sadly become a usual occurence. But something is different tonight. Bucky turns on his side and where he would normally find his lug of a friend he finds an empty spot with the covers drawn over. He puts his right arm on top of it. It’s still warm. Every single alarm goes off in Bucky’s brain at once and he closes his eyes tightly, trying to drown them out.
Count to ten. Don’t think of the worst-case scenario. He could just be out running again.
He can’t entirely convince himself of that. He throws the covers aside and slinks off the bed, crouching to the floor. The light filtering through the windows, from the lamplights and traffic, is bright enough. No need to turn on the lights inside. It could be too dangerous. Halfway to the door Bucky notices he is 1) not wearing pants and 2) not wearing a shirt and 3) completely unarmed, since Steve isn’t too keen on letting him hide weapons in the bedroom (not after last time). Bucky grits his teeth and opens the door anyway, still crouching. If he has to defend Steve fighting HYDRA in his underwear, unarmed and one-handed, then so be it. He gets up and plasters himself to the wall of the corridor. He can hear something from the kitchen. He approaches, silently. He peeks inside, but it’s darker than the rest of the house and he can’t distinguish anything. He flicks the light switch and prepares to leap. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The view that greets him is Steve covering his eyes against the blinding light with one hand while holding a ridiculously big box of cookies with the other. Once he lowers the hand over his eyes he makes the same expression as a kid caught doing exactly what he is doing would make. Bucky is still standing in the doorframe and can only glare at him. “Seriously?” Steve shrugs. “I was hungry and I couldn’t really sleep…” He opens the box and starts unwrapping the cookies, which diminishes the effect of what he says next. “Sorry I woke you up.” “You didn’t.” Bucky walks towards him and pushes him a bit to the side. Steve, mid-bite on a cookie, just looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “Now I’m hungry too. Move over, I’m gonna make sandwiches.” “There’s leftover Chinese, too.” Bucky makes an excited “oooh” sound which sounds way too real and Steve can’t help but chuckle at Bucky rummaging in the fridge then putting three containers directly in the microwave. Once that’s heated up, they both start eating in silence, if only because they’re actually wolfing down on the food. After that, Steve puts down the fork but keeps sneaking a hand in the cookie box at regular intervals. “You know, I thought I knew what being hungry was, back then.” Bucky looks up at him but keeps working on his rice. “But now I need to eat like 5 times more to not want to chew someone’s leg.” Bucky drinks from his water glass before answering. “I know. You used to demolish our rations. Dum-Dum hated it.” “Yeah, I remember”, Steve says, resting his cheek on his palm. “We didn’t get much sleep back then either, huh?” “War does that”, Bucky answers, matter-of-factly. Steve sighs and passes his hand through his face. “Is that why we’re so bad at normal life?” Bucky shrugs. “I think people are worried.” Bucky shrugs harder. Steve sighs again, then looks at him out the corner of his eye and then extends an arm, dramatically. “I wonder why Morpheus has forsaken us.” Bucky smirks but tries to suppress it. “Stop.” Steve waives his hand around with an unnecessary flourish. “I wonder if God is mad at us.” “Well, you did just mention a different god, and I think that’s blasphemy.” Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and speaks close to his ear. “You know what else is blasphemy, Barnes?” Steve enjoys immensely the fact that he can clearly see Bucky’s skin break out in goosebumps as he says this. He can also hear his sharp intake of breath. “Sam and Nat already think we’re not sleeping because of that”, Steve drawls. “Might as well.” Bucky’s eye twitches. “That did also happen during the war”, he rasps out. “Maybe one was a consequence of the other.” Bucky turns his face just a smidge so he can look Steve in the eye. What he sees there gives Steve his own goosebumps. Bucky looks away. “Sorry, I…” Steve relents and leans away. “You know how I feel about you, Steve. But just…” “Not now”, Steve finishes for him. “Not yet.” Bucky, arm resting on the table, opens and closes his fist a few times. Steve tentatively extends his other hand over it. He’s kept the other on his shoulder. After a second, Bucky relaxes into the touch. Their fingers weave together. “It’s fine”, Steve reassures him. “I don’t care about that.” He inches closer again. “I care about us.” Bucky lets out a breath. Steve sneaks his arm around his neck and rests his cheek on his shoulder. Bucky leans his own head againt Steve’s. They stay like that for a while. Steve glances up and notices Bucky’s closed his eyes. The sun is coming up already. After some minutes, Bucky opens his eyes and raises his head. Steve does the same, still looking at him. “Let’s clean this up.” Once they finish throwing containers and wrappings in the trash, Bucky searches for his hand again. Steve smirks and Bucky tells hims Don’t you even dare with just a look. His hands are big and warm now but they still ground Bucky the same way they did so many years ago. They go back to the bedroom, pull down the blinds, and get inside the covers again. And then, finally, they get some damn sleep.