Domestic Chaos, Now in 4k
Bucky had seen battlefields quieter than Stark Tower's kitchen on a Saturday morning.
The counter was covered in flour. There was cinnamon in the air. Clint was dual-wielding spatulas like they were tactical weapons. Steve was reading a recipe like it contained state secrets. Bruce had an apron that said "Kiss the Chemist."
And Harry…
Harry had a whisk.
And a look.
The look of someone about to cause irrevocable damage with baked goods and intent.
"You're not supposed to put chili powder in cookies," Steve said slowly.
Harry didn't look up. "That's what they want you to believe."
"Who's 'they'?"
Harry paused. "Big Bakery."
Tony strolled in wearing gold-accented kitchen gloves. "I heard we were cooking. I brought a prototype waffle iron that sears the Avengers logo into the batter."
Bucky blinked. "Why?"
"Why not?"
Clint clapped. "Approved!"
Bruce mumbled something about "structural waffle integrity" and went for the mixing bowls.
Bucky grabbed the fire extinguisher.
Just in case.
"Harry, no—don't—" Bucky lunged.
Too late.
The whisk spun. The flour flew. A small explosion of cinnamon rained down like it had something to prove.
Harry coughed through the cloud, cheeks flushed, hair dusted in spice, grinning like a criminal.
"I regret nothing."
Bucky sighed. "You're a menace."
"I'm a domestic vision."
"You almost blinded Steve with nutmeg."
Steve was still blinking, eyes watering.
"Worth it," Harry called.
Tony set a tray of oddly bubbling muffins on the counter. "I added liquid nitrogen."
Bruce looked horrified. "Why?"
"For the crunch."
"You weaponized breakfast!"
"I upgraded it."
Clint attempted to flip a pancake mid-air.
It hit the ceiling.
Stayed there.
Everyone stared.
Clint beamed. "Defying gravity. Nailed it."
In the midst of chaos, Harry snuck behind Bucky.
"Turn around," he whispered.
Bucky frowned. "What are you—"
Harry looped an apron over him that said "Grumpy, But Make It Soft."
Tony howled.
Bucky didn't even argue.
He just tightened the straps and said, "You're lucky I like you."
Harry kissed his cheek. "I'm everyone's favorite kitchen disaster."
"No argument here," Natasha said, walking in with a takeout menu.
Eventually, something edible emerged.
Sort of.
Bruce's muffins were edible.
Clint's pancakes still hadn't fallen.
Tony's waffles looked like patriotic crime.
And Harry's cookies? Spicy. Chaotic. Actually good.
He handed one to Bucky.
Bucky took a bite. Paused. Chewed slowly.
"...This is incredible."
Harry beamed. "Told you."
"I still don't trust your instincts."
"I used my chaos sense. It never fails."
Later, Harry curled on the couch, tea in hand, Bucky beside him, both wrapped in flour-dusted hoodies.
Tony walked by, hair singed.
"You are never allowed in my lab kitchen."
Harry grinned. "Next week: scones and sabotage."
Tony pointed at Bucky. "Control your gremlin."
Bucky just pulled Harry closer. "No."