Comfort is a Battlefield
The problem wasn't that Harry was a cuddler.
It was that everyone else had figured that out, too.
The Tower was no longer a high-tech hub of global defense. It was a cuddle war zone. Strategic alliances were being formed in whispered corners. Natasha had taken to scheduling tea time around Harry's naps. Bruce was bribing him with scientific journals and fuzzy socks.
And Clint?
Clint had started leaving hand-written appointment cards under Harry's pillow.
Which was… fine. Bucky wasn't possessive. He wasn't.
It's just that Harry looked better in his hoodie. Fit better against his chest. Slept better when curled in his arms.
And maybe—maybe—Bucky liked the way Harry always tugged him down to the couch without asking. The way he mumbled "you're warm, stay," like it was his right.
Maybe Bucky had gotten used to that.
Too used to it.
It was Tony who noticed first.
He walked into the kitchen one evening to find Harry barefoot, wearing one of Bucky's long-sleeved shirts like a dress, perched on the counter and stirring soup with the concentration of a bomb technician.
"I own chairs," Tony offered.
Harry blinked at him. "I prefer altitude."
Bucky was at the table, flipping through a book on Cold War tech like he wasn't watching Harry out of the corner of his eye the entire time.
Tony watched the two of them in silence for a beat too long.
Then he said, "You're here a lot."
Harry shrugged. "Your couch is comfy."
"My couch doesn't usually get claimed by chaos gremlins in thermal socks."
"You saying I'm not adorable?"
Bucky coughed into his mug. Tony glared at him. "I didn't say that."
Harry smiled, too sharp to be innocent. "You're avoiding a question."
"Am I?"
"You're thinking too loud. Jarvis should mute you."
Bucky actually laughed.
And Tony just stood there, looking at the two of them like he wanted to say something and didn't know how.
Then he left.
Later that night, Harry didn't go home.
He'd meant to. His bag was packed. The Uber app was open. But the rain had started, and someone had made cocoa, and then Bucky had looked at him with that unreadable expression and said, "Stay."
And Harry had.
He curled up on the couch, blanket pulled to his chin, Bucky's socked feet tucked under his own.
Tony passed by again. Slowed.
"Need anything?"
Harry looked up. "A legally binding cuddle contract with attached snacks and pillow clause?"
Tony smiled faintly. "I'll call Legal."
But when he walked off, he lingered just outside the room.
Didn't go far.
Just stayed close.
Like maybe he was hoping Harry wouldn't leave again.
And Bucky?
Bucky didn't say anything.
He just slid down the couch, pulled Harry into his side, and wrapped an arm around his waist like it was second nature.
And it was.
By now, it was.