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Bucky shuffles through the front door, dead on his feet. His body aches, the muscles shrieking in protest with every quiet step he takes deeper into the apartment. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the chair in the kitchen, ignoring the sharp pain in his stomach from a shallow knife wound. The angry red bruising around the cut is already beginning to fade as his skin stitches itself back together. Injuries don’t last long, but that doesn’t stop them from hurting like hell.
The apartment is dark, quiet, but if he concentrates he can just hear the faint murmuring of the television. He kicks off his muddy boots and follows the sound, toes sinking into the plush carpet-- an amenity you had dished out extra for.
You’re sprawled out on the bed amongst the various pillows, one of which your arm curls tightly around. Shadows dance around you, thrown up by the TV that plays for an oblivious audience. It’s a show you’ve seen a thousand times, so you’re not missing much. You claim it helps you fall asleep.
“House is too damn quiet when you’re not here.” You’ve always said. “Gotten used to your snoring.”
Bucky rids himself of his clothes. His compression shirt and jeans join your other clothes in the hamper. Civies . He’s still not used to the comfort of them, the flimsiness of them. You’ll wash them in the morning, and Bucky will try not to stare as the fabrics mix together. Your shirts and his tumbling in the machine as if they’ve belonged together all this time. And when he does inevitably look a beat longer than he should, you’ll just squeeze his hand and smile.
Goddamn he loves your smile.
The same smile that greets him when he turns back around. A slow, graceful stretch of the lips, and deep dimples etched into your cheek. A flash of white teeth hidden behind the curves of your mouth and a crinkle of the nose when you let yourself smile big.
Which you do now as you take him in with sleepy eyes.
“Baby?” you mumble with a yawn. “You’re back.”
You look a little comical, shirt all rumpled and a little drool pooling in the corner of your mouth. Your hair’s piled up in a colorful scarf, a couple curls peek under the fold of it and frame your lovely face.
Bucky grins. “I’m back.”
“How was it?” Your eyes scan his body for injuries, stopping short at the bandage right above his hip. You raise your eyebrows.
“Good.” He ignores your inquisitive gaze and crawls into bed.
“You gonna tell me how you got that?” You nestle into the crook of his arm, and lean your chin on his chest.
“Nope.” He kisses your forehead, and tugs your leg over his waist, fingers drawing idle circles over your knee. “It’s shallow. Just an occupational hazard.”
“Uh huh, an occupational hazard .” You fix him with a hard stare, which earns you another kiss and a mischief-laced smile. “Said you’d come back to me in one piece.”
“And I did.”
“One could argue that there’s a little bit of you missing.” You run your fingers over the edge of the bandage.
“Cells regenerate, baby.” Bucky squeezes your hip. “I’m all me all the time.”
You roll your eyes.
He shrugs. “‘Sides, tomorrow morning you won’t even be able to tell.”
“You’re lucky you’re clever, Mr. Barnes.” You kiss his jaw. “Keep talking and I just might forget the sprain you brought home last time.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Was that last time? I thought that was the time before that,” he says cheekily. “You should know, because you seem to be keeping score.”
“I take that back, you’d better hush for your own good.” You poke his chest, and Bucky chuckles.
You both settle into a relaxed silence, watching the movie play out on the screen in front of you. You’re so quiet Bucky thinks you might have fallen asleep again, but your heavy voice breaks the stillness a moment later.
“Do you like being back?” You whisper, burying your face into his chest.
“Yeah…” Bucky pauses for a moment. “It feels nice to do something again. To choose to do something again.”
You hum under your breath. “Good, that’s good. Just be careful when you’re out there saving the world, babe. I hear old bones are prone to breaking.”
He snorts.
“And make sure you take your vitamins.”
“Here I thought we were having a moment.”
“We are having a moment. We can have two moments.”
“Got any more advice for me, doc ?”
“Yes,” you say, a more serious edge to your tone, even if it is muddled by sleep once more. “You better keep coming back to me, James, and you better be in one piece next time.”