Mess
Bucky woke up warm and comfortable, he took a minute to enjoy it, he kept his eyes closed and his breathing stayed slow and relaxed. He was so used to waking up with his heart pounding, trying to escape his chest, clothes and bed and blankets wet and cold, tears trying to force themselves out of his eyes and his breathing all over the place like his lungs were going to explode. Right now, it was nice, he couldn't think past the warmth all around him.
He lay there for a long time, feeling floaty and light. Soon enough, he acknowledged the noises around him. He could hear someone else breathing next to his ear, soft even breaths in sync with his own. There was a happy voice coming out of the TV he remembers being on when he fell asleep. He could hear the heater running, Steve always liked their floor warm, he thinks it has something to do with the whole ice thing. Bucky didn't care too much for the cold either, after Hydra and all they... Hydra... Hydra and all the things he did for them. He remembers telling Steve about his thoughts last night. Crap, crap, crap, he remembers falling asleep on top of Steve last night, cuddled close -
He almost jerked up, but the limp arm that was wrapped around his back tightened. "It's just me." Steve said, "don't leave."
After thanking a moment to assure himself that he had left his pants thankfully dry while he slept, then Bucky took a moment to appreciate that Steve knew he would try to run. He's already so embarrassed about last night, he had sobbed like a baby about stuff that he was supposed to keep to himself. On top of that, he talked like a baby when he was spilling his secret. He remembers his tongue feeling heavy and useless in his mouth as he tried to speak. His words came out with letters over pronounced, and he couldn't make some of the sounds of the letters. He couldn't form long, thought out sentences; his words had to be simple.
"I'm sorry," he said, his words sounded funny and muffled. Horrified, he took his thumb out of his mouth that he had been apparently been sucking on while he was sleeping. His face turned red, god, he was weird. When he saw a bit of drool on Steve's shirt, he wondered why Steve was even dealing with him when he was like this. "Sorry," he said again, trying to ignore the still babyish tone in his voice, after taking his thumb out of his mouth, "I'm sorry about - about -" his head thumped against Steve's shoulder.
"You've got nothing to be sorry about."
"But I do, I - I -" he was going to start crying again if he didn't stop.
"No," Steve insisted, "you don't, you did nothing wrong."
Bucky couldn't even argue with Steve, he was so tired still, sleeping had felt so nice, especially with Steve holding him so close. His brain was already starting to tell him he didn't deserve to be held like this, so comfortable and safe, but Steve must have been a mind reader.
"So what if you cried a bit last night, you've apparently been being really hard on yourself since everything happened. You remember all that stuff you said, right?" Bucky nodded, ashamed. "You shouldn't do that to yourself, deny yourself of comfort and relationships because of stuff that you did while brainwashed." Tortured seemed like a bit too harsh of a word for right now.
Bucky nodded, even though he didn't agree, he was too embarrassed to talk. He kept asking himself why he did that, why he felt like a little kid when he did. It was humiliating, it was dumb and weird and so many other things but he had felt so light and carefree even as he told Steve that something was wrong. He almost wanted to feel like that again but not under the same circumstances. How sick was that?
Steve didn't let go, he kept Bucky pinned tightly to his chest and his hand was in Buckys hair again, keeping Bucky's face safely tucked into his neck.
They lay quietly for a minute, Steve playing with Bucky's hair and a kids movie playing quietly on the TV.
Steve chuckled suddenly, "You slept for thirteen hours."
"I -" he laughed too, lifting his head from Steve's shoulder, the hand in his hair fell limply onto his back. "Wha' time did I fall asleep?" His voice was still childlike but not as bad as last night
"Four am."
"Four... It's five at ni'?" Night, he tried his hardest to say.
"Yeah."
"God, I feel like I could sleep 'or another thirteen hours still."
Steve was quiet for a moment, just looking at Bucky. "When was.. when was the last time you slept without a nightmare?"
He shrugged awkwardly with their position, "Before." Last week he had an almost full night of peaceful, exhausted sleep but he knew what Steve meant. So that was all he said all he said for Steve to understand. Before the war, before Hydra, before he hurt everyone, before he killed all those people. Before.
Steve just nodded, "You wanna eat?" Steve asked, even though he was already getting up, shifting so Bucky would get up off of him.
Bucky waited for Steve to fold the blanket he had pulled over them when Bucky had fallen asleep and lay it back over the back of the couch. He followed Steve to the kitchen, still feeling a bit like a small kid when Steve asked him what he wanted.
"You feeling breakfast or dinner, I mean, it's dinner time and all but you kinda slept through breakfast so..."
"Anything's fine." <em>Anyfing's</em> Bucky blushed again, closing his eyes and ducking his head as if that would hide him from Steve. He hoped Steve didn't realize the babyish sounding voice that Bucky was all of the sudden using. The stare he felt on him said that Steve had realized.
"I'm feeling breakfast." Steve said, not acknowledging the weird way Bucky was talking because he knew it would definitely get a negative reaction out of him. He didn't mind it too much either. He found it kind of adorable. Not last night though, Bucky had been too frantic and distressed for the baby talk to be cute. "What if we make waffles?"
Bucky nodded and smiled, he liked waffles. He usually ate frozen eggo waffles if he ate at all in the morning, but he usually just skipped breakfast and trained.
He watched happily as Steve grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and set it on the counter. He grabbed flour, sugar, eggs, milk, vegetable oil and a measuring cup. Bucky watched him with childlike wonder in his eyes, he shouldn't be so amazed by cooking but it looked like so much fun. He wanted to help but he would probably make a mess so he stood back and watched.
Steve, of course, saw this and smiled at Bucky. He'd never seen Bucky like this, he was so... carefree. He knew Bucky was in a different state of mind at the moment where all the bad things only existed in the back of his mind, like he was a kid. Steve quickly decided he liked it and that they could talk about what it was later. For now he would just take care of Bucky however Bucky needed.
"You wanna help?"
"Wha' if I make a mess?" Bucky frowned, shifting slightly where he stood by the dining table.
"Messes can be cleaned."
"Really?" Steve could hear the smile in his voice, "You won' ge' mad?"
"No, not over a little mess in the kitchen. C'mon, I need help."
Bucky hesitated still, what if Steve was just saying that and he would get mad. He didn't want to get yelled at.
Steve smiled reassuringly and Bucky found it hard to not believe him when he said, "I won't get mad."
"Okay," Bucky whispered taking slow steps until he was standing in front of the sink. Steve flipped the handle of the water on for him to wash his hands. After he dried his hands, he joined Steve at the counter, looking down at the bowl. Steve took the measuring cup and took a scoop of flour, his hand coming out with some bits of flour stuck to it. The flour went over the two cup line but Steve didn't seem all that concerned by it so Bucky didn't say anything. The measuring cup was placed in his hand, Steve told him to pour it in the bowl, just dump it upside down.
He did. Not much happened, just a puff of flour inside the bowl as it settled. He giggled at it - giggled. Then he blushed because he giggled, and that had made Steve smile.
Steve poured a cup and a half of milk, a bit over again. Bucky went down to eye level with Steve, who was looking to see how much milk was in the cup.
" 'Is over uh 'ine." It's over the line, is what he tried and failed at saying.
"Yeah," Steve said, "cooking with exact measurements is boring, it tastes better like this too."
Bucky nodded along with Steve, standing up from his crouched position from looking at the measuring cup. Steve guessed on how much sugar to add, poured it from the container straight into the bowl, not even measuring how much. He went with "that looks like enough."
The only thing Steve measured exactly was the vegetable oil, "We don't need extra of it, it's bad for you."
Steve held out an egg for Bucky to take. "Wha'?"
"Crack it and put it in the bowl."
"I... wha' if I..."
"What if you what, Bucky?"
"Hid it too har'or ge' the shells in the bol." Hit it too hard or get shells in the bowl.
How Steve managed to understand him was beyond him but he was thankful that Steve didn't ask him to speak clearer. He probably wouldn't be able to. "The first time I cooked for myself here, I accidentally crushed the egg in my hand. The second egg shattered when I hit it against the counter."
"But -"
"You don't need to be so afraid to mess up, I won't get mad, promise."
Bucky almost asked 'Pinky promise?' but stopped himself the second the thought occurred. Steve would definitely say something then. His face flushed at the thought of saying such a childish thing.
"Just tap it on the counter and it'll start to break."
Bucky did, so slowly and with barely any force behind it but with the egg shell still cracked. A small circle from the impact and a whole bunch of smaller cracks all around the egg. Some of the whites dripped out of the cracks, all over Bucky's hand and sticking to the flour on his hands. He used his thumbs to gently split the egg and drop it in the bowl, a shell falling in with it.
Steve grabbed the egg shell with his thumb quickly out of the bowl, "Good job." He smiled honestly, handing Bucky another egg to repeat the process with.
He did, no shells fell into the bowl this time. Steve told him good job, patting his shoulder in praise and getting a bit of flour on his shirt. Bucky made a happy noise in the back of his throat, smiling shyly at Steve.
The third egg cracked too much, the shell breaking in his hand, enough of it to avoid the egg falling but still making a mess on the counter and his hands. He squeaked softly, stumbling to catch the yoak so it didn't make a bigger mess.
"Saw-wee." Then more clearly, "Sor-ry."
Steve was quick though, he grabbed Bucky by the arm and gently pulled him over to the sink. Steve turned the water on but Bucky just stood there, still holding the egg and its broken shell in his hands, as his lip quivered.
"Don't cry," Steve's voice held pity but it was commanding. "You're fine."
"I'm - I'm - 'm -" Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and shied away from Steve, as if expecting to be hit.
Steve's hands wrapped around his wrists, moving his hands so the egg and the shell fell into the sink. He put Bucky's hands under the stream of water and pumped soap into his hand.
"You're okay," Steve muttered so softly Bucky barely heard it over his quickening breaths. Steve was rubbing his back, "It's just an egg, honey, we have more."
Bucky shook his head, " 'M sorry." When he was under Hydra's control he use to get punished for such small things and this just felt like one of those things.
"Don't apologize so much." Steve patted his shoulder, flipping the garbage disposal on to get rid of the egg in the sink while Bucky dried his hands.
"Here," Steve handed Bucky another egg, "try again."
He did. It cracked nicely into the bowl, Steve was smiling and telling him he did a good job. Bucky blushed at the praise while he threw away the last egg shell.
When it came time to put sugar, Steve added a bit more than a tablespoon of sugar. "No one has to know." He said to Bucky while putting the sugar away.
He let Bucky mix all the ingredients together, he didn't even feel like crying when he spilled some over the side. The batter went over the side of the bowl in a large drop and ran down his hand. Steve had laughed, flicked about half of the drop off of Bucky's hand and onto his finger. Steve licked the drop off his own finger, leaving the other half for Bucky.
"Can I..."
"Yep."
Bucky smiled at the sweet taste of the batter when he licked it off his hand. He looked over at Steve with a light smile and flushed cheeks, his head felt light and it was quiet. It was a nice change from... all the bad things he's been doing to himself, he couldn't really remember what he was doing but he knew it was hurting him. He didn't think about it too hard because Steve was taking the bowl out of his hands and starting to bring it to the waffle maker similar to the ones he's seen in the forties but much more expensive looking.
Bucky got easily bored after watching Steve pour the runny batter into the waffle maker to make the first waffle. Bucky squirmed around from where he stood next to the counter. He looked at the fridge, there were a few magnets on it he didn't take notice to before. There were two from California, the golden gate bridge and one that said California in fancy letters. Maybe from Ant-Man, Bucky thinks he was from California... Scott? There were a few that looked like they were from a tourist shop from down the street. New York, Brooklyn, the statue of liberty (not surprising for Steve). There was a grocery list stuck up on the fridge with a clip magnet. There was another magnet of a middle finger on the top left of the fridge that he assumes is from one of the other avengers.
Bucky looked up at the lights, he studied the ceiling, tried to count the cracks on the floor, looked at all the food sitting out on the counter in jars, and drummed his fingers on the counter.
"You bored, Buck?"
"Lil' bit."
"The first ones almost done." Bucky groaned, not even one finished after all this time? "You can eat it when it's done."
"No."
"No?"
"No," Bucky confirmed, but his voice cowered like he was afraid he said something wrong or disappointed Steve.
"Why not?" Steve's voice was soft, confused. Not angry or disappointed or irritated or anything but confused. "You not hungry?"
"I am."
"Then... why wait?"
" 'Cause I... you made 'em too. I wanna wait 'or you."
"Oh," Steve laughed, his eyes crinkled when his lips curled up, "Okay."
The light on the waffle maker turned from red to green, telling them that the waffle was done. Steve got it out easily enough, putting it down on a plate and covering it with a towel to keep it warm. Steve poured some more batter into the waffle maker and closed it.
"Why don't you go watch a movie," Steve suggested, "I think there's still one playing."
Bucky hesitated as he looked into the living room from where he stood by the counter. He suddenly remembers his time with Hydra, times when he wasn't on a mission or in cryo or in that chair or -
"Hey -"
- he would have to stay with his handlers, follow them around like a dog. Five steps behind, same pace as them, he remembered getting in so much trouble if he left the room without a handler with him and -
"- Bucky -"
- "Go grab me a pen from my office." His handler turned towards him and he stopped five steps behind him, like he was trained to. He easily followed the command, turning and leaving the room to go to the office they had just walked out of.
"- you okay, buddy?"
He remembered being hit and punched and yelled at just for doing what his handler had told him to do. "Don't you ever leave the room without someone, you have to be monitored. You're unstable and untrustworthy, got it?" A few more punches made sure he had.
He hadn't thought about that since he got here. He had mostly wanted to be alone in a room but now the memory came back strong and he didn't want to leave Steve's side. He didn't want to get in trouble again, he couldn't take being yelled at, not when he felt so small and vulnerable.
"I'm sorry," he said in a high pitched voice but no baby talk.
"You gotta stop apologizing, Buck, you did nothing wrong." Bucky shook his head, Steve was right. He hadn't really done anything wrong, but he still felt bad for making Steve worry.
"You okay?" Steve said after a moment of Bucky fighting back tears at the memory.
Yes, just say yes, he doesn't need to know, it isn't important. "Yeah," whatever mind space he had been in was thankfully (?) fading away.
"You sure?"
He nodded.
"So no movie?"
"Later." He lied, later - after breakfast - he was going to lock himself back in his room and put things back to how they were up until last night. He was going to be by himself and not bother Steve with things he should be dealing with by himself.
Steve knew him too well, even after they have both changed so much. Steve knew he was lying. "We're gonna talk about last night over breakfast."
"About what, there's nothing to talk about."
Steve was already turning around to go get the finished waffle out of the cooker. "Oh, there's plenty."