Cook Out
The first night at the tower, you had fallen asleep while watching TV and woke up to the sound of people talking. As they got closer, you were able to make out who they belonged to and pushed yourself upright to greet them.
“What are you doing, making your girl sleep on the couch?!” Sam joked as he leaned over the back to kiss your cheek. “Let me know if he keeps mistreating you like this.”
You give a sleepy half smile in return, too tired to do much else.
When Steve greets you, all you can do is yawn and wave.
Just as you consider falling back over and going back to sleep, Bucky sits down next to you and hands you a cup of coffee before throwing his arm over your shoulder.
Once you’ve finished most of your cup, you’re finally able to manage speaking.
“Any plans for the day, Bucky?”
“We were just talking about cooking out on the grill outside later, once everyone gets in and gets some sleep.” He pulls you over slightly, placing a kiss on your head. “Feel up to helping me with some of the prep work?”
Around noon the two of you had begun getting everything ready. Bucky made sure you had everything you needed within reach while you sat at the counter. As the rest of the occupants began strolling in, they would carry plates out to the grill. You couldn’t see it from where you sat, but the sounds and smells of cooking food drifted into the building.
“Why don’t you go out there? I’ll clean up,” Bucky offered, helping you stand.
After washing your hands, you turn around and pout your lips.
“But I can’t enjoy the view from out there.”
He walks up, pushing himself against you and brushes his lips on yours, “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Not in the kitchen! Not near the food!” Sam shouts from the other side of the room.
Bucky laughs and without looking away from you responds to Sam, “Get her out of here, Sam. She’s making a mess of the place.”
You couldn’t help but smile back at the smirk that was growing on his face.
Once outside, Tony quickly appears by your side with an extra drink in hand.
“Here, before your chaperon can say otherwise,” he says, pushing the glass into your hand.
You gladly accept it, giving him a dramatically airy “Thank you!” before he walked away.
Not having had any alcohol since being out of the hospital, it wasn’t long before you began to feel its effects. While you were still in some pain, it was manageable without medication most days. But Bucky would give anyone who offered you alcohol his infamous death glare, out of fear that you might need to take something for the pain. Most notably Tony, who had brought you a bottle of welcome-home wine that prompted not only the glare, but also a lecture on mixing medication and alcohol.
As Bucky sits next to you, you hand him your now empty glass, pressing your finger to your lips.
“What am I going to do with you?” he sighs.
“Let’s have Tony refill that glass and find out.”
“That explains it.” Bucky turns to face Tony’s direction. “Heavy handed with the drinks, Stark?” he shouts, holding up your empty glass.
“Is that a request?” he hollered back. “I can add more this time.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back at you. “If you’re going to have another drink, let’s get some food in you first.”
A few plates of food and a few drinks later, you’re ready for bed. After one too many stumbles, Bucky scoops you up and carries you.
“Hey, I’ve got this,” you insist.
“I don’t think so. You’re going to break something. Or re-break something.”
“You can fix it for me.”
He sets you on your bed as he says, “Sorry doll, I’m not a doctor.”
Your eyes go wide. “Ooh! I thought you meant the furniture! WAIT. Can you fix the furniture?!”
“I’m sure someone around here can,” he assures you, pulling back the blanket before adjusting you under it.
“Is that ‘someone’ you?” you ask, jabbing his chest with your index finger.
Bucky shakes his head, leans down and kisses your forehead. “Go to sleep.”
Turning onto your side, you mumble, “You’re not the boss of me Barnes.”
Letting out a soft chuckle, he begins stroking your hair. “I know.”