Sam and the Soldier stood in the elevator together, a padding of space between them. The Soldier had his back in the corner and his proverbial hackles were still raised, even with the exhaustion that followed a monthlong mission. Sam stood in the opposite corner, bracing himself on the wall and beginning to peel his armor off. His posture, unlike the Soldier’s, showed his weariness: his shoulders slouched, he was favoring his right side, and his head hung low.
The elevator dinged softly as it arrived at the Soldier’s floor, and Sam watched him take his leave, his shoulders never relaxing, senses still heightened. “Debrief at 0800 tomorrow, Soldier,” Sam was barely able to summon his Captain voice, the fatigue truly setting in the closer he was to his floor.
Just as the doors began to close, Sam thought he saw the Soldier’s back tense even more, saw his hands clench into fists, his right arm reaching for a weapon. But that couldn’t be, no one could get past the Tower’s security. Something in Sam’s gut told him to at least check, though.
“FRIDAY, is there anyone on the Soldier’s floor?”
“There is one other person besides Sergeant Barnes on his floor. They present no imminent threat, and they entered the Tower with the proper clearances.”
After hearing that whoever it was did not pose a threat to the team, Sam figured the Soldier could handle it.
--
Bucky rounded the corner to his living space, immediately tensing when he heard movement from the bathroom. He pulled a knife from the right side of his tac pants, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible.
Although he didn’t normally spend time at the Tower, he made sure to know any places the floorboards might creak or shift to give away his position. The door to the bedroom was halfway closed, setting off alarms in Bucky’s head. He always kept it fully open when he left the Tower, so he had a clear view to the room when he arrived on the floor.
Slipping through the door, he adjusted his grip on the knife and raised his left arm to block any incoming attacks. The light was on in his bathroom and he could hear water running, most likely in the tub, given he couldn’t hear it hitting tile.
“Under your skin, over the moon,” he heard a deep voice croon. “Don’t let me in, I don’t know what I’d do.”
The voice began to hum, and realization washed over Bucky. Shamefully, he stuffed his knife into his waistband. He purposefully made his next steps louder, ensuring his entrance into the bathroom was announced.
“Buck! I’m just gettin’ the bath ready for ya. Ms. FRIDAY sent me an alert when you were on your way back, so I thought I’d keep ya company tonight.” The man’s slight frame was bent over the faucet in the tub, one hand testing the water and a thin arm supporting the rest of his body weight.
For the first time in almost a month, Bucky felt his shoulders relax. The exhaustion of the mission, being around the team, and being away from Steve finally set in.
He blinked to find his eyes had closed without his approval and leaned against the doorframe to fight the tidal wave of weariness that had suddenly hit him. With the support of the frame, he began pawing off his vest and tac suit, haphazardly removing the remaining weapons stored on his person.
Once he had undressed to his underwear, Steve approached slowly. “Hey, Buck, missed you.” He reached bony arms out, hesitant until Bucky nodded.
Steve grasped Bucky’s shoulders, pulling the larger man down, and wrapping him in a hug to the best of his abilities. He felt a shaky exhale against the shoulder of his t-shirt and squeezed Bucky even closer to him. “C’mon, let’s get you clean, and we’ll eat and go to bed. How’s that sound?”
He felt the answering nod against his shoulder and begrudgingly released his boyfriend from his hold. “Alright, babe, we got two options: I can sit outside the bath and help you get clean, or I can get in with you. All the same to me, you have to let me know what you’re comf-“ He was cut off by a quick 1-2 tap on his ribs from Bucky’s flesh hand.
He covered the hand with his own and raised it gently to place a kiss to the palm. “Then that’s what we’ll do, Buck.” Blue eyes met grey before Bucky turned his gaze to the floor.
Steve pulled his boyfriend closer to the tub and began to undress himself, tugging off a blue t-shirt that Bucky absently recognized as his. His socks and skinny jeans followed, until he was clad only in his underwear, like Bucky.
With gentle hands, Steve slid Bucky’s briefs down his legs for him to step out of. He allowed Bucky to step into the hot water, hands shadowing him in the unlikely event he slipped.
As he turned to slip off his own briefs, he was startled to feel hands on his ribcage and held back a shocked squeal as he was lifted into the tub. Bucky gently set him on his feet before sinking into the water.
“Where do you want me, Buck? In front or behind?” Steve asked. At the 1-2 tap on his shin, he motioned for Bucky to slide forward and sunk behind him, his back resting against the cool tile.
Bucky slumped against Steve’s chest, his body between the smaller man’s legs. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Bucky’s temple and rested his hands along Bucky’s ribs.
While Stark had equipped Bucky’s floor with a very large tub, Steve could feel traces of pain running along his spine from the position, though he’d never tell Bucky he was uncomfortable in any way.
After about ten minutes of laying in this position, Bucky abruptly sat up. “Alright, baby, let’s wash your hair,” Steve sat up as well, reaching for the lavender-scented shampoo and conditioner that were sitting outside the tub, as well as a plastic cup he had pulled out of one of the kitchen cupboards.
He took his time rinsing and lathering Bucky’s hair, watching the man continue to relax under his hands. While the conditioner was soaking, Steve reached for a washcloth—one he had brought from home, as he didn’t trust the Tower to have any soft enough for Bucky—and lathered it with soap, something neutral and clean-smelling, with a hint of honey.
He dragged the cloth along Bucky’s shoulders and back, before kneeling on the tile to shift Bucky so he could reach the rest of his body.
Bucky had clearly had time to shower after the worst of the fighting since he usually came home covered in blood, dirt, and grime. The worst of it seemed to be his hair, which took two rounds of shampoo to get fully clean.
Steve devoted special attention to Bucky’s thighs, which were still littered with bruises and cuts that hadn’t healed yet. Once every part of his body had been suitably washed and rinsed, Steve rinsed the conditioner out of Bucky’s hair.
The water had cooled considerably around them, but it still wasn’t quite cold. “Alright, Buck, do you want to go eat now or sit here for a few more minutes?”
Steve nodded after receiving one tap on his wrist where it rested on Bucky’s shoulder. He half-stood in the bath, reaching for the towels he had placed on the heating rack (thank you, Stark!). He held one open for Bucky, who stood and wrapped it around himself like a cape, not really drying anything.
Steve, on the other hand, wasted no time drying off and stepping out of the tub. He slipped on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, knowing Bucky preferred to keep his floor cool.
When he turned back to face the tub, Bucky was still standing, wrapped in the towel, watching Steve carefully.
“C’mon, babe, let’s dry off and get you into comfy clothes. I brought sweats and a shirt from home, I know you don’t keep anything here.”
Bucky followed Steve’s instructions, carefully drying himself and stepping onto the bathmat. Steve helped him into the grey sweats and the t-shirt before draining the water from the tub.
Steve led Bucky through the bedroom and to the floor’s kitchen. “Alright, so I brought stuff for spaghetti, if that’s alright? If not, we can always get take out from somewhere,” Steve narrated as he grabbed a blanket off the living room couch.
He received a quick squeeze to his hand and nodded. He led Bucky to one of the stools at the kitchen island and did his best to wrap the blanket around him. Luckily, Bucky did help and ended up as a cocoon, with only his head sticking out. Steve figured he would have put the blanket over his head if his hair wasn’t wet, but such was the price of cleanliness.
Steve rummaged around the kitchen, assembling the pots and pans he would need to make pasta and heat up store-bought tomato sauce. At the sound of a knock, he startled and turned to Bucky.
Seemingly pleased at having caught Steve’s attention, Bucky smiled, a small thing, still, this close to a mission. S-I-N-G, he fingerspelled. Steve was slowly learning ASL to help Bucky after missions, but they were focusing on relevant words and phrases, so they relied heavily on fingerspelling.
Steve blushed. “So I guess ya did hear me earlier, huh?”
Bucky gave him a look that could be loosely translated as, No shit.
Steve set the pot of water on the stove and turned the heat up. “I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask and neither should you, honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do,” Steve sang, not dissimilar to his crooning in the bathroom an hour earlier.
As the pasta water boiled and the sauce came up to temperature, Steve kept singing, pointedly not watching Bucky. Steve sang until he was plating up the pasta and pouring a glass of water for the two to share.
He gave Bucky at least three helpings worth and took one for himself. He perched on the stool next to his boyfriend, unsurprised when a metal arm bearing a blanket appeared over his shoulders. He shifted and allowed Bucky to pull him (and the chair) closer to his cocoon.
They ate in silence, since Steve couldn’t make conversation while eating and Bucky was currently not speaking at all. Bucky finished his plate before Steve but made no move to grab more.
“Are you done, or did you want any more?” One squeeze to his left shoulder. “Alright, Buck, I’m just gonna rinse these dishes and then we can go to bed.”
Steve made quick work of the dishes and put the extra pasta in tupperware. After rinsing everything and placing it in the dishwasher, he turned to his boyfriend. “Okay, baby, let’s go to bed.”
Bucky’s brow immediately furrowed, and his stare hardened where it was directed at the countertop. “Or not? What’s up, Buck? Do you not wanna go to bed? We can watch Netflix or something until you want to,” Steve backtracked, trying to problem-solve on the spot.
“N-not,” Bucky paused. Steve’s eyebrows shot up.
“Is it something you can sign? You don’t have to talk, Buck,” he reassured, not wanting his boyfriend to try to do more than he was capable of at this point.
“Bed, ‘s soft, don’ like,” Bucky muttered. Okay, we could have definitely signed that, but fine, Steve thought to himself.
“Okay, honey, that’s fine. What if we just go lay on the couch? I’ll put Brooklyn Nine-Nine on, and we’ll sleep there.” Bucky nodded once, jerkily, before standing and leading Steve to the living room.
Steve’s heart dropped at the size of the couch. There was no way both of them would fit lying down, no matter how small he was. Despite the twinges of pain he could already feel after the bath, he had already made a decision.
“I’m probably gonna be up for a while watching TV, so I’ll sit up for now, and you can put your head in my lap. How’s that sound, baby?” It was a bald-faced lie that Bucky would have picked up on if he wasn’t so exhausted, but it was necessary.
At no sign of disagreement from Bucky, Steve sat on one end of the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Bucky grabbed the pillow from the other end and laid so the pillow was leaning against Steve’s thigh, but not quite in his lap.
Steve asked FRIDAY to queue up Brooklyn Nine-Nine and combed his fingers through Bucky’s damp hair.
After the first episode finished, Bucky pulled Steve’s hand out of his hair and laid it on his chest, directly over his heart. He squeezed Steve’s wrist, a quick 1-2-3, and Steve whispered, “Love you, Buck, sleep well.”
Steve tried to stay up to finish the next episode but found himself drifting. “Ms. FRIDAY, please turn the lights off and the volume down. Thank you,” he spoke quietly to the AI.
Afraid to move and wake up his boyfriend, who clearly needed sleep more than him, Steve tried to relax back against the couch cushions. He let his head fall back and he was asleep in minutes.
--
Sam was irritated. It was 7:55, and the Soldier hadn’t shown up yet. The man was never less than 15 minutes early for debriefing. The rest of the team was there, so they were just waiting on him.
“Okay, that’s it, I’m gonna go to his floor and check on him,” Sam finally spoke, the concern about yesterday’s visitor coming back full force. The team mostly ignored him, still too invested in their caffeine consumption before the debriefing began.
On the elevator, he asked FRIDAY if the visitor from yesterday was still there and became more concerned with the affirmative answer.
When he turned the corner to the living room, he gasped. The Soldier was curled up on the couch, sleeping next to an incredibly small blond man. The blond had his hand on the Soldier’s chest, with a look of pain on his face. The Soldier, on the other hand, looked more peaceful than Sam had ever seen.
Afraid of being caught staring, Sam cleared his throat. “Soldier, we have debriefing,” his Captain voice rang throughout the room, but the blond didn’t stir.
The Soldier, however, was up before Sam could blink, and was standing defensively in front of the blond. The man blinked twice, glancing at the clock in the kitchen. He swore under his breath.
“Apologies, Captain. Forgot to set an alarm,” Sam knew damn well the Soldier didn’t set alarms, but he let it pass, just this once.
Sam nodded, trying to glance around the Soldier to the blond man. The Soldier turned then, like he had forgotten the other man was there. He swore again.
Sam watched as the Soldier, whom he had never seen embody the word gentle, picked up this man with a posture of total reverence. The man groaned as he was jostled, and the Soldier shushed him.
“Shh, Stevie, I’ve gotcha. That was stupid, you know that, punk?”
“Mm, Buck,” the blond man muttered. “Y’good?” The man’s voice was surprisingly deep, though Sam was unsure how much of that was due to sleep and how much was natural.
“Yeah, Stevie, you took real good care o’ me last night. Can’t say the same about yourself, though,” the Soldier (Buck?) reassured, his tone even and gentle.
The Soldier picked the blond man (Stevie?) up from the couch, causing him to suck in a gasp. “Whyssit hurt?”
“Well, you thought it might be a good idea to sleep sittin’ up, doll.”
The Soldier nodded for Sam to get the bedroom door, which was fully closed. Sam crossed the room quickly, still trying to fit together the pieces of what was happening right now.
The Soldier gently placed the blond man on the bed, allowing him to straighten out and stretch. Glancing at Sam, he placed a quick kiss on the man’s forehead, ruffled his fingers through the blond hair, and tapped 1-2-3 times on the man’s somewhat crooked nose.
“Mm, love you too, Bucky,” the man said around a small smile, before seemingly falling back asleep.
--
“So… who was that?” Sam asked conversationally as they walked toward the elevator.
“That was Steve, my wonderfully stupid boyfriend,” the Soldier said with a fond smile.
Sam nodded. “And you are… Bucky? Is that something you want us to call you?”
The Soldier, Bucky, stopped to think for a minute. “Yeah, I think I’d like that. Thanks, Cap.”
When they arrived at the conference room, Sam made sure to refer to him as Bucky, so the rest of the team knew the change.
He also made sure to keep the debriefing quick, because he did not want to get between Bucky and Steve.