The feeling of sleep always threatened to take you after your missions. It crept slowly through your mind, coating your face with tired eyes and hazy thoughts.
Every time you made it back to the compound the feeling would quickly make itself known, starting at the base of your legs as you wandered off the jet. Your feet would begin to drag and you’d fall behind the rest of the team, yawning and rubbing your eyes as you struggled to follow.
At first nobody seemed to notice. They too were tired themselves to really pick on the sudden onslaught of fatigue that seemed to pull you further and further away, but honestly you didn’t really mind.
You always welcomed the comfortable silence. It gave you a chance to go blank for a bit. To not have to think about mission tactics or training sessions or how’d you inevitably spend your days off. You could go on autopilot and nobody would bat an eye.
Somewhere along the line it had become a routine for your body to just give up on the task of making it to your room, prompting you to instead take space on the floor of whenever you ended up.
Nat and Clint would always chuckle to themselves whenever they saw you, back against the hardwood, arms placed carefully across your chest, while Steve would merely shake his head.
In response, you’d always smirk and stick out your tongue whenever they passed, waving them off as you settled into your nap spot.
For some odd reason nothing could compare to this feeling. It was weirdly comfortable despite what everyone else thought; giving your back a way to realign itself after the inevitable stress.
Because of this you continued to do it, becoming so comfortable in the habit that when Bucky eventually joined the team you barely registered his confusion the first time it happened.
“What are you doing?” He’d asked, scrunching up his face as he watched you practically drop to the floor, eyes already closed and ready to go.
“Napping.” You said it like it was obvious, even though to him it was very much not.
“On the floor?”
You nodded silently, readjusting your hips against the hardwood with a sigh, feeling them crack as you pushed down. As soon as you did a rush of relief radiated throughout your spine, flowing through you like a wave of bliss, causing your body to grow almost limp as you steadied your breathing.
After that it didn’t take long for your usual exhaustion to take over and quickly you were lulled to sleep, your chest rising and falling ever so slowly as Bucky continued to stare.
He wasn’t entirely sure what you were doing. You had a perfectly good bed with pillows and blankets just down the hall, yet here you were, lying on the dingy floor like some dog.
It immediately made him wonder if somehow your crazy nap spot might help the pain he could feel coursing through the expanse of his shoulder.
The mission had really done a number on him, leaving him more sore than usual. At some point he’d had some guy in a headlock who still had a little too much fight in him, resulting in his body being thrown around like a pinball.
Just the thought made him groan and reach for the wound, digging his fingers into the muscle in an attempt to calm the pain as he watched you silently shift into a new position, inhaling roughly as your eyes fluttered open.
“How long have you been standing there?” You asked, moving to sit up.
He merely replied with a shrug, unsure how to respond.
“Was I out for long?” You rubbed your eyes and let out a long yawn as you raised your hands to the ceiling, feeling your shoulder pop.
“Maybe a minute or two,” he mumbled awkwardly.
Nodding your head, you dropped your arms again and leaned forward, reaching to touch your toes with a groan before once again laying back down.
“Not done yet?” He found himself questioning, a small smirk creeping across his lips.
You shook your head and rolled your shoulders, mirroring the placement of his lips as you patted the empty space next to you. “Wanna join?”
At first he merely shook his head, muttering a quick set of no’s as he watched you narrow your eyes and continue to tap the floor. The last thing he wanted to do was impose.
“It’s more comfortable than it looks, Buck, I promise,” you said.
At that point he figured you probably wouldn’t stop until he at least tried so rolling his eyes he merely dropped his bag and settled down next to you, groaning as he descended to the floor.
As soon as his back hit the floor he felt a pull throughout his shoulder, causing him to let out a long breath as he awkwardly turned to face you, noticing the sudden smile present across your lips.
“What?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Feels good, right?”
“I guess.” He wasn’t sure if that was necessarily the right word. Sure, it felt fine, but it wasn’t good or bad just… different.
Laughing at the lack of excitement in his voice, you reached out and playfully smacked his side, causing him to look away sheepishly. “It’ll get better with time. Promise.”
“With time?”
“Yeah, the more you do it the better it feels.”
Upon realizing that this probably wouldn’t end up being a one time thing, Bucky let out a small snort, wondering whether or not he’d made a mistake in giving in.