Steve was asleep when he heard a loud crash from the kitchen. He startled awake and went to grab his shield before he recognized the sound as multiple pans falling to the floor. He stretched out and heard the distinct sound of his joints popping -- being a superhero puts a lot of stress on your body okay? -- then got up to help Bucky clean up whatever mess he made.
Bucky had woken up with an intense craving for pancakes. So he got up and went to make some hoping to remember how. The only problem was he didn't know where Steve kept anything in this damn kitchen and began the hunt to find everything he needed. His search finally ended when he spotted the pans and proceeded to drop all 5 that were in his hands.
Just as he was about to start with the pancake batter Steve walked in. Of course Bucky felt bad about waking him up, but Steve was always so cute first thing in the morning that it quickly dissipated. His blond hair was a mess, and his eyes were only half open. Bucky always thought he was a lucky man to have Steve, but moments like these made him extra grateful.
"James Buchanan Barnes what the hell are you doing up at four in the morning?" Steve asked while sitting at the island in the kitchen and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Wanted some pancakes, Stevie," Bucky said turning to look at him. He almost forgot what he was doing after staring for too long, then abruptly turned around and got back to work.
"At four in the morning?" Steve asked incredulously.
"What other time would I eat them?" Bucky threw back at him.
Truthfully what had woken Bucky up was another one in a long line of nightmares. This one hadn't been too traumatic, but still enough to keep him awake for awhile. And what heals the soul better than sugar covered carbs with your boyfriend while the rest of the city continued to sleep?
Bucky was almost done mixing the batter when Steve came up and rested his head on Bucky's shoulder, wrapped his arms around his waist, and started kissing his neck.
"I'm actually trying to do somethin' here punk," Bucky said pouring the pancake batter into the pan, then turning around in Steve's arms.
"When have I ever stopped you from doin' anything, Buck?" Steve said in between kisses with his mouth against Bucky's neck. Bucky honestly couldn't believe this was his life.
"That time when I wanted to prank my sister you gave me a real stern talkin' to. Almost felt like I was talkin' to my own mother." Bucky knew there were many other instances that have made a much bigger impact on their lives, but sue him for wanting to remember something nice for a change.
"You wanted to put itching powder on all her clothes. That woulda just been plain cruel." And fuck if Steve didn't have the most innocent pouting face. It was a wonder Bucky ever got anything done.
"Shit the pancakes!" Bucky turned around and flipped them over and luckily they hadn't burned. "You're too distracting. Go sit down."
"Right away, Sergeant," Steve said with a salute going back to the island and making Bucky roll his eyes.
After Bucky ran out of batter and served the only slightly burned pancakes -- because goddamnit Steve Rogers in nothing but his pajama pants and sleepy eyes is distracting -- they drenched them in syrup and had all ten large pancakes finished in record time.
"Maybe you should wake up with cravings more often," Steve suggested when both of them had finished and pushed their plates aside.
"I knew you only loved me for my cooking skills, Rogers," Bucky quipped with that mischievous spark in his eyes that had been missing for far too long.
"And here I thought it was because of your pretty face," Steve teased.
Bucky noticed at this moment that Steve had put on his favorite Sinatra record in the living room. He then grabbed Steve's hand and pulled him out of his seat.
"Always wanted to dance with you at all those dance halls I dragged you to."
"I did too, Buck," Steve said as Bucky started to sway their bodies to the beat.
Steve had his head rested on Bucky's shoulder and his left hand in his. Bucky's left hand was sitting on Steve's waist guiding him and humming along with Frank.
If Bucky thought Steve was beautiful before, right now he was ethereal. His eyes were now open and back to their full brightness. He had raked his fingers through his hair and smoothed it down, but it was still messy enough to know he hadn't been awake for very long. His blue plaid pajama pants hung way too low on his hips to be considered appropriate, and he had a small, warm smile that made Bucky's heart do flips it hadn't done since before the war had taken everything about them and twisted it until the only thing that was the same was the way they felt about each other.
The early summer sun was beginning to shine in through the windows, and it casted the prettiest of halos behind Steve's hair and across his cheekbones. Moments like these Bucky wishes he was an artist like Steve. He wants to recreate the perfect frame of light around Steve's face and the warm glow of his features to remember this forever.
All of Bucky's thoughts and emotions washed over him within seconds, and all he could think next was why haven't I kissed this punk yet? So he leaned in and as gently as he could, kissed Steve. It was short and sweet, but as soon as Bucky pulled back Steve had his lips back on his for a longer -- yet still somehow just as sweet -- kiss.
Moments like this make Bucky forget all the bad things in his life. All the nightmares of what might happen, and all the memories of what have, vanish until it's just him and Steve.
Bucky thinks he's pretty lucky to have moments like this with someone as great as Steve Rogers.