It’s a Friday night. Though on weekends, Steve is usually still occupied by his duties as the head of his syndicate, tonight he was able to take a break from his work. He and Bucky had gone to Tony’s for a relaxing get-together dinner with the others. Sam, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodes were all present, and they’d had a good time. Things had gotten even better—for Bucky, Clint, and Tony especially—when someone (probably Clint) pulled out a tray of brownies. Needless to say, their time had ended by midnight when it was clear to some of the group that they’d be better off recovering at home where they’d be able to wake up the next day safe and stay in bed as long as they needed.
It’s the third time Bucky has ever tried anything apart from alcohol, according to him. So far he’s always had supervision, at least one person he can trust to protect him in his compromised state.
Right now, Steve is amused, mostly. He’s doing his part by giving the younger man what he needs and what he wants, whether it’s food, water, a warm bath, or cuddles (mostly cuddles).
Every 15 or so minutes Bucky will perk up from whatever position he’s in to profess his love for Steve, and by the 7th declaration Steve can’t help but laugh at his sweetheart.
“I know, honey, and I love you a lot, too,” he’d reply. Every time.
They’re on their bed, Bucky acting as Steve’s human blanket with his head on the blonde’s left pec. The time is almost 2 a.m., the lights are out save for an overhead lamp, and Steve is combing a hand through Bucky’s soft brown hair with a book in his other when Bucky’s voice grumbles.
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie…” he whines into the center of his chest. It’s his way of getting Steve’s attention and it works because his giggles and doe-eyes are so damn cute and he’s like putty in Steve’s arms. Steve puts down the book he’d been reading on the bedside table and he holds his sweetheart’s face in his hands. They’re a little red from Bucky smiling so much and the high getting him to flush easily.
“Yes, sugar,” Steve coos.
“Mmmh!” Bucky hums petulantly, like he’s a little annoyed Steve can’t read his mind immediately. He puckers his lips in a demand for a kiss. He melts impossibly further into Steve’s embrace when the older man lets go of one cheek to card his free hand through his hair again.
Steve copies his hum, his voice sounding deeper and more relaxed, teasing him. Bucky must see the amused glint in his eyes because he lets out another whine.
A laugh from Steve, and he acquiesces, “You want kisses, baby?”
Bucky’s lips flatten cutely, and his brows furrow like he thinks Steve is being dense. He nods his head and goes “mmmh” again, one hand grasping at Steve’s shirt and the other reaching up to hold his wrist, the one belonging to the hand that’s still cupping his cheek.
Steve looks at him in continued amusement, huffing out another chuckle. Bucky’s eyes are so pretty, even when his pupils are dilated, swallowing up his silvery blue irises, and when Steve doesn’t move Bucky grumbles and whines louder, nothing intelligible. Steve laughs out loud and concedes, pressing a deep but chaste kiss to his fella’s red, warm lips. His love tastes sweet to him, evidence of the cupcakes he’d demanded to have when they reached home.
Bucky giggles like he’s shy, chin down, looking up at Steve through his lashes.
He grins wide when he says, “Ever told you how gorgeous you look, hun’? ‘Cuz you aaare… ‘Could stare at you aaalllll day, baby,” Bucky sighed, a smile which Steve could only describe as tender and in love plastered on his face, “and I’d never get tired.”
“Yes, honey. You’ve told me four times just tonight. Thank you so much,” Steve presses a kiss to one of his cheeks, “You’re makin’ me feel like I’m the prettiest gal in all’a Brooklyn,” he presses a second kiss to Bucky’s forehead, a third on his nose, then a fourth on his lips. “You should know, whenever I see your face, your adorable smile,” a squish of both cheeks, “your eyes, baby, they’re their own kind of jewel,” a thumb swipes gently under Bucky’s eye, “and I hear your lovely voice,” he strokes Bucky’s neck, “everything around me don’t matter no more when I see you. S’like you got the sun followin’ you behind your back and it’s never gonna fade. You angel,” and he laughs when Bucky tries to cut him off with more whines and groans.
“Y’can’t say that, Stevie, I’m married, got a husband!” Bucky chastises with a weak slap to his face. Steve hadn’t even been halfway done when Bucky’s cheeks blushed the older man’s favourite shade of pink.
“Oh, I’m sure he won’t mind. I bet he’ll agree with what I gotta say about everything that you are,” he coos, grin on his face never falling. Bucky continues to moan and groan “mmmmm” after he scoffs incredulously at the blonde, and then his head flops down, cheek squished against Steve’s chest again.
So they fall back into silence. Steve’s left hand glides up and down Bucky’s back while he thumbs at Bucky’s hip with the other, knowing no matter if his husband is feeling ruffled by him he’ll always appreciate physical touch in this state.
“He won’t get mad. Your husband loves you very much. Promise you that, sweetheart,” he assures against Bucky’s forehead, voice soft and gentle. When he presses another kiss there his hand comes back up to card through brown curls briefly before going back to its previous ministrations.
A few minutes later, Bucky jolts and uses an arm to support himself so he can stare intensely into Steve’s eyes. Steve, though startled, wasn’t surprised by the odd behaviour and faces his love’s gaze head-on.
“I love you,” Bucky proclaims, voice firm and loud, and though it’s clear he’s trying to sound and look serious, the way he’s focusing too hard on keeping himself upright and looking at Steve when he so clearly wants to continue plastering his whole body to Steve’s front diminishes his attempt at seriousness.
Steve’s face lights up in a smile again and he can’t help it, not really—just like all the other times this has happened since the high kicked in for Bucky. He rolls them around so they’re on their sides, still facing each other. Steve pulls Bucky close so there’s no space between them, and Bucky happily complies, delighted little sounds escaping his chest. Bucky lets Steve hook a strong leg over his own and in turn, he wraps his arms over the bigger man’s shoulders, still emitting those pleased little noises. Steve chuckles softly into Bucky’s hair. He smells like the lavender shampoo they use and Steve feels so warm.
Their position means Bucky’s torso is twisted so he’s half on his back, legs clinging to Steve’s. It allows Steve to dip his head to kiss Bucky’s lips.
Bucky must feel enveloped in the best way, like he’d mentioned he felt from when they’d cuddled with him high on the same thing before, because the moan he lets out sounds so sensual and lewd Steve feels his body go hot. But god, it felt heavenly to just be able to hold Bucky like this, with no expectations or intentions to take anything further.
He loves when Bucky gets like this. His love deserves to feel relaxed and settled, to feel good, just lying there, eyes glazed over from the high in his blood.
As he continues to kiss Bucky, nipping on his lips and soothing the sting with the wet glide of his tongue, Bucky’s moans get breathier, pitchier, his hand coming up to tangle in dirty blonde hair to keep him as close as possible.
“Stevie,” he whispers when they part for air, voice husky.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Steve replies, kissing all over his love’s face, hand cupping his cheek.
“I love you.”
“Mhm, I know. Love you too, sugar,” there go more kisses planted and pecked. There’s no patch of skin left on Bucky’s skin that Steve hasn’t kissed on tonight.
“You feel sho goohdnn,” comes the drawled mumble, and Steve grins again. Smoothing his hand down Bucky’s neck.
“Mmhm,” the older man hums, smile still on his face. He adjusts his position so his head is propped up by a hand. Bucky’s fully rolled back on his side and his face is stuffed against his husband’s neck.
Bucky’s hugging him so close Steve doesn’t know how there’s space for him to breathe, but he stays there and doesn’t move so Steve decides it’s okay to stay the way they’re positioned, happy to remain there until both fall asleep to the sounds of each other breathing, to the feel of each other’s warmth.
As they lie there, eyes closed, Steve gently patting Bucky’s lower back rhythmically, there’s a final, quiet mumble of I love you from Bucky before he finally falls asleep a few seconds later, his grip on Steve loosening a little and head lolling back slightly. Steve’s patting turns back to simply stroking. A few more minutes later, Steve breathes a deep sigh, turns off the overhead lamp above their headboard, then slides downwards so he’s no longer propped up, and pulls Bucky back as close as he can again.
He falls asleep with his leg and arms wrapped around his husband, the sweet scent of the younger man enveloping his senses.