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Despite wanting to sleep a few more hours, Sam’s body refused to let him go back to sleep. He stared at the digital clock on his nightstand, the numbers 4:34 flashing a bright red on its screen, and let out a sigh as he slowly sat up on the bed. He did a few stretches, relief flooding him as his joints popped into place, before going to the guest bathroom down the hall to get ready for the day ahead of him.
Inside the bathroom, he noticed a foreign towel and toothbrush, and a knowing smile made its way onto his face. He’d almost forgotten that Bucky had stayed the night. The day before he’d acted as if he didn’t want to stay over, saying he’d have to go to a hotel and “crash for the night”. Sam knew what he was getting at, and offered him to stay the night, after all he knew no one would truly have a problem with it. Sarah liked his presence and his nephews found him amusing. They’d almost called him “Uncle Bucky” after just one day of knowing him. Turns out, Bucky was better with children than Sam expected. He wondered if it was from experience.
After getting ready, he went downstairs and saw Bucky curled up on the couch, his back turned to him, and face pressed against the back of the couch. Sam smiled at him fondly, subtly ignoring how his heart skipped a beat at the sight. He walked up to the sleeping man, and slowly pulled up the blanket that was bunched up at his feet and covered him with it. Bucky curled further into himself, burying his face into the blanket. And Sam felt like his heart was about to burst. How can someone this serious look this peaceful and cute sleeping?
Smiling to himself, Sam gently caressed his hair gently, careful not to wake Bucky up, before heading to the kitchen to make coffee.
Sam wondered if this is what it’d be like to live with Bucky. Waking up to his gentle expression, and being able to see a side of him that not everyone could get ahold of. Making breakfast together. Maybe they’d get a cat. Or two. It’d jump onto the counter while they’re eating. Bucky would laugh. Sam would scold them.
He stopped his imagination before it could go any further. His cheeks felt warm already, and as he glanced at Bucky’s sleeping form, they felt even hotter, and he thanked God for his dark skin or else he’d look like a tomato.
He also didn’t have time to deal with these newfound feelings, even though he knew what was already so clear. He liked Bucky, and that was that. But he’ll keep that to himself, just for the time being.