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The Winter Soldier was a perfectly designed machine made to stand even the most extreme weather. Bucky Barnes was no longer the Winter Soldier, but he kept those traits. He never thought they’d be useful in his less-chaotic life until he got stuck in a safe house in the middle of nowhere, Siberia, with none other than Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. They had originally planned to storm some sort of terrorist base before it got too dark and snowy. There was a nasty blizzard happening outside, so there was no threat to worry about nor was there any progress to be made on their mission. They stayed inside.
Unfortunately, the safe-house’s heating did not survive the blizzard. And there were only so many blankets. It got cold very, very fast.
Bucky did not notice it very much due to his abilities and the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, but then the power went out as he was watching the news. He started to worry about the others until they walked into the living room, also shaken a bit from the outage.
Steve had a better version of the serum, but wasn’t really accustomed to such drops in temperature. Bucky noticed that his face and hands were flushed and stiff. A painful reminder of the ice, he thought. Sam had no serum, and it was very obvious he was seconds away from getting frostbite. Bucky pulled them both down onto the rug and against the couch.
“‘The hell are you doing?” Sam gently inquired as he went down. No more complaints— or words at all— came out when Bucky pulled him up to his chest. He also pulled Steve to his side with his freezing-fucking-cold metal arm, holding both of the men close.
Bucky was warm. A lot warmer than either of them had expected, especially from a man (formerly) dubbed the Winter Soldier. It was a blessing. Sam could feel his hands again. Bucky threw a blanket over his legs.
Steve curled up with his own blanket, warming himself up as much as possible. Bucky felt his hands for a second, then furrowed his eyebrows. Scowls were his signature look.
“…What?” Steve shifted.
Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know how you two get so fuckin’ cold.”
“Language.”
Sam chuckled at that, but then started to drift off as he clutched Bucky’s right arm. Steve closed his eyes and laid his head against the no-longer-cold metal arm. Rest would be important. They might as well get some if there wasn’t much else they could do.
Bucky was the first to wake up. At one in the morning. Mostly because Steve’s arm was on his hair and Sam was kneeing his crotch. The positions in general were just awkward. There were definitely some cons to this situation.
“…Hey Sam, can you—“
“Shut the hell up.” Bucky was met with a pillow to the face. “I’m sleeping.”
Bucky sighed and went back to sleep.