Mornings with Bucky were soft.
Few and far between, punctuated by late nights spent reaching for his warmth, only to be met with cold sheets. It had struck you early on in your love that he would never be entirely yours, not while duty called his name. And part of you loved him all the more for it. The other part craved his presence like a drug.
So yes, mornings with Bucky were soft, spent lazily basking in the light of his sleepy smile while his fingers traced the curves of your body, committing every dip and swell to memory.
You had asked him once, between gentle kisses, if he knew what he did to you, how a simple glance from him could leave you breathless, even after all these years. He chuckled, mumbling against your lips.
“Now you know how I felt the second I saw you.”
Your connection with Bucky had grown from the moment you had locked eyes, slowly forged in the moments between missions and projects. A smile here, a glance there, all coming down to this; to a sunrise spent with your leg slotted between his and his hand resting gently on your hip, lost in each other’s gaze.
You smiled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
“Always the charmer, hm?”
You could feel him smile against your skin as he held you closer, his mouth coming down to press a kiss to your shoulder.
“Only for you, doll. Only for you.”
You could have sworn that the sun rose a little higher.
He shifted, moving so that his body eclipsed yours, the tip of his nose brushing your own. With the light caressing the panes of his face as your hands longed to, you could have sworn he was a dream. He was, in a way. Your dream. It was cheesy and cliché and you wouldn't imagine telling anyone but him, but in this moment, it was the truth, plain and simple.
He hummed, fingertips ghosting over your cheeks. “What’s going on in that head of yours, sweetness?”
It was him, of course. Nothing but him. How could you think of anything else when he was right there, those eyes of his drawing you into his orbit. You told him so, leaning up to meet his lips with your own. His hand found the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, deeper. A groan left him when you pulled away, your eyes meeting.
“I love you.”
You told him so quite often, knowing that some part of him didn't quite believe that such a thing was possible. But it was much more than that. Loving Bucky came like a gale in a heatwave, easy and strong, in a way that stole your breath and soothed your soul. It was a personal mission of yours, to ensure that he always knew that he was cherished, and extremely so.
His grin turned saccharine when the words left your lips, a soft glow rising to his face.
“One more?”
As if you wouldn't say it a thousand times over. As many times as he needed you to.
“I love you, Bucky Barnes” Your eyes met his once again, your own smile growing as you lightly tapped his nose with a finger. Even with your playful spin, the words held a certain gravitas, a weight that held the two of you in the moment.
His gaze softened, the light of the early morning illuminating his features just so, the warmth of him against you sending something gentle and fuzzy through your veins.
His head met your chest, and the weight of him settled into your bones as your fingers slipped into his hair, nails rubbing lightly against his scalp. He let out a contented sigh, his lips grazing over your sternum.
“I love you, doll. So much.”
You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head in response, breathing him in. There would be another threat, of course. Something that demanded his presence for the greater good. But for now, with the two of you tangled together, all languid movement and soft touches, he was yours. And you were his.
And that is all you could ever ask of him. To keep returning to you, steadfast as the rising of the sun.