Work Text:
Avengers Tower was dark and quiet, the lights of New York City spread out below like a glittering blanket of stars while the dark sky was shrouded in clouds. Rain lashed against the windows, as it so often did in early March, making the tower feel all the more cut off from the rest of the world.
Your footsteps were quiet and stealthy as you moved through the sleeping tower, most of those who resided in the building having gone to sleep or secluded themselves in their offices or labs. You, however, wandered the halls, poking your head in empty rooms looking for the one person you were trying to find.
It wasn’t that you weren’t tired, or wishing you were in your own bed, curled up under a warm blanket and sleeping like the rest of your SHIELD and Avengers colleagues. But you were on a mission. And you didn’t want anyone to see you except the person you were looking for—too worried they’d tease you about the venture you’d decided to undertake.
You finally found Bucky Barnes holed up in one of Tony Stark’s studies that doubled as a library.
The room was decorated in dark, warm browns, and it was situated in the center of the building so there were no windows overlooking the New York City skyline. It was calm and quiet in the room, the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves muffling all external sound, the pages of the many, many tomes giving the space a cozy feel. You immediately understood why Bucky chose this particular room.
For a moment, you paused just inside the doorway, taking in the sight of the fearsome Winter Soldier lounging on a brown leather couch. He looked much less intimidating in a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his gleaming silvery metal arm holding a book on his flat stomach, his other arm tucked behind his head while he read.
A smile flickered around the corners of your mouth as you watched him silently. You couldn’t help but think that Bucky looked so soft and inviting, his brown hair framing his face, his broad, muscular body relaxed and spread out on the couch. All you wanted to do was curl up on Bucky’s lap like a cat, but you didn’t know the Winter Soldier nearly well enough to do that.
You were so engrossed in watching Bucky that the low rumble of his voice startled you enough to gasp.
“Didn’t your ma ever teach you it’s rude to stare?’
Bucky’s Brooklyn accent was thick, the way it always was when he was tired, which reminded you of the late hour. Glancing down at your hand, you remembered your mission and stepped forward just as another sound pierced the air of the quiet, cozy library.
On a shelf to your right, a clock chimed midnight.
It was officially March 10. Bucky’s birthday.
All of a sudden, you felt a little silly.
It occurred to you yet again that you didn’t know Bucky very well, despite him having been at the tower for almost a year. The former Winter Soldier typically kept to himself, training on his own or with few others—he seemed to only allow Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff to spar with him—and finding secluded rooms to retreat to while everyone else socialized. He never joined in on movie nights or group dinners, so you hadn’t had a chance to get to know him.
Because of that, you didn’t know if Bucky even liked his birthday, let alone if he’d enjoy the chocolate cupcake with frosting and sprinkles you’d made for him.
But you supposed you’d already come this far, you might as well complete your mission.
So you took a deep, steadying breath and stepped further into the room.
Bucky sat up as you approached and you had to duck your head to avoid his piercing blue gaze. The former Winter Soldier had an intimidating presence, and even though a part of you craved being close to him, you still felt incredibly shy around the man who was such a mystery to you. Thankfully, he simply waited patiently, watching your approach.
When you got close enough, you held the cupcake out to him, mumbling, “Happy birthday, Bucky.”
Bucky was quiet for a long moment—so long that you gathered the courage to look up at him, worried you’d offended him somehow. He wasn’t looking at you, though, he was staring at the cupcake in your hand, his gaze fixed on the dark chocolate treat and the chocolate frosting with sprinkles. There was a dazed expression on his handsome face that made your heart clench sadly.
“I forgot…” he murmured, trailing off before looking away and shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. He cleared his throat, still not looking at you, his jaw working as his throat bobbed. “I forgot my own birthday.”
The words came out gruff and pained, and you noticed the rigid set of Bucky’s shoulders. It made you want to comfort him, so you followed your instincts and stepped closer. Sinking down onto the couch beside him, you sat close enough that you could feel the heat of his body ghosting over your skin even as you tried not to crowd him.
Before you could think better of it, you slipped the fingers of your free hand into Bucky’s warm palm, giving him a comforting squeeze.
To your utter devastation, Bucky flinched at your gentle touch, and you swore you could feel your heart tearing in half. You tried to pull away, to stand up and give him his space, but Bucky surprised you. His hand chased yours, closing his warm fingers around your own and holding on desperately until you stalled your retreat.
You sat there, staring at Bucky, your heart beating unsteadily for him while his face was turned away from you. Still, you let him hold your hand.
It was your turn to wait patiently as Bucky worked through whatever he was thinking. After a moment, his head shifted and he looked down at where your hands were clasped, your delicate fingers looking so small in his big, strong grip. When you glanced at Bucky’s face, you saw a little bit of awe in his expression, like he was marveling at the sight of him holding your hand.
“I can’t remember the last time someone wanted to hold my hand,” Bucky confessed softly.
His words only shattered your heart further and you squeezed his hand tight, scooting even closer to him, all your instincts telling you to comfort him. His throat worked and you waited for him to get the words out, your hand clinging desperately to his.
“I’ve held more knives in the past 70 years,” he went on, his voice as rough on the stubble on his jaw, “than the hands of pretty girls.” He looked up at you then, and the emotion—tentative and depthless—swirling in Bucky’s eyes made your breath catch in your throat.
Your face heated with shyness while Bucky stared at you intently, his gaze scrutinizing your features like he was trying to figure out what on earth had compelled you to reach for his hand. You weren’t sure what he’d find and you weren’t sure you wanted him to know, so you looked away and cleared your throat, endeavoring to change the subject.
“Do you like chocolate?” you asked, so you wouldn’t have to admit—even to yourself—how your heart had soared when Bucky called you pretty. You held up the cupcake you’d made him, which was a little squished from how tightly you’d held it.
Bucky set the book he’d been reading aside so he wouldn’t have to drop your hand to pluck the cupcake from your upturned palm. He considered the baked good with a seriousness that made you want to giggle and cry in equal measure. But then a soft smile curved the corners of his mouth and you felt your chest ease in relief.
“I love chocolate, sunshine,” Bucky said sincerely, flicking his crystal blue eyes to your yours, his lips twisting into a wickedly charming smirk. “Especially when it’s from a sweet girl.”
More heat suffused your cheeks and you tugged your fingers free from Bucky’s hand so you could pull the paper away from the base of the cupcake for him. You caught Bucky’s frown out of the corner of your eye and had to suppress a smile.
As soon as you were done peeling off the paper, Bucky recaptured your hand, threading his warm fingers through your own and holding your joined hands on his thick thigh. You could feel the muscle shift beneath the soft cotton of his sweatpants and it made you want to squirm, but you stayed still.
You watched as Bucky took a hearty bite of the cupcake, devouring almost the entire thing. Little chocolate crumbs caught around the edges of his mouth, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when he closed his eyes and tipped his head back. A loud groan of delight rumbled in his chest while he savored the sweet treat.
You were transfixed by the sight of Bucky Barnes enjoying your baking, unable to stop staring at the way his sharp jaw worked while he chewed or the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. It was practically an erotic experience, your body heating in response to the sight of Bucky’s pleasure, no matter how innocent it was.
Without even opening his eyes, Bucky popped the rest of the cupcake in his mouth and finished it off with another happy groan. Your fingers twitched in his hand, wanting to reach for him, to straddle his lap and lick the crumbs from his mouth, but Bucky’s fingers squeezed you tighter, like he was afraid you were going to pull away again.
Lifting his head and opening his eyes, Bucky stared straight at you, something new and pleased sparkling in his blue gaze. He didn’t look anything like the intimidating Winter Soldier in that moment, just a handsome man in a comfortable t-shirt and sweatpants, smiling at you in a way that made your heart flutter in your chest.
“Thank you, sunshine,” he murmured softly. “That was delicious.”
“You’re welcome,” you whispered in return, ducking your head as heat flooded your cheeks once again. Even when he was just Bucky, you still felt shy around your attractive colleague.
Needing to change the subject again, you glanced at the book Bucky had put aside, hiding a smile when you saw it was The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. When you realized you’d taken him away from what he’d been doing, you started to retreat, moving to stand up.
“I should let you get back to your book,” you murmured, unfolding your legs from beneath you and scooting to the edge of the couch. “I just wanted to make sure someone wished you a happy birthday.”
But Bucky didn’t seem to want to let you go, which he made clear when he tugged you back onto the sofa with him, picking you up with his metal arm and settling you in his lap. You curled into him and his warmth instinctively, blinking wide eyes up at the former Winter Soldier, who just smiled softly down at you.
“How did you know it’s my birthday, sunshine?” he asked in a hushed tone, like the two of you were trapped in a bubble all your own.
With the library enclosed on all sides, the shelves filled with books muffling all outside sounds, it certainly felt like the two of you were in your own cozy little world and you sank into that feeling, relaxing in Bucky’s arms. Still, you ducked your head shyly at his question, tracing the lines of his hand with the fingers of your free one.
“I know everyone on the team’s birthday,” you said, knowing it wasn’t really an answer. But you didn’t necessarily want to admit you’d peeked at the SHIELD files Nick Fury kept on everyone to see all their birthdays.
You knew it was a little invasive, even if you deliberately only looked at their dates of birth. But the Avengers were a strange bunch, not a single one of them prone to sharing personal details like their birthdays, so you’d had to resort to drastic measures. Knowing your colleagues’ birthdays just seemed like the bare minimum of kindness.
And if you especially wanted to know Bucky Barnes’ birthday, that was a secret you’d take to your grave.
Bucky hummed in acknowledgement of your answer, though his eyes narrowed, like he knew you weren’t telling him the whole truth. After a moment, he seemed to let it go, but you quickly realized he was just changing tact.
“Do you make cupcakes for everyone else?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that made you feel warm all over. “And do you track them down to make sure you wish them happy birthday exactly at midnight?” His expression told you he already knew the answer to his questions.
Because of course you didn’t.
You’d made a small batch of cupcakes earlier in the evening and picked the best one for Bucky, then used all your SHIELD training to sneak through Avengers Tower just before midnight to find him—all so you could wish him a happy birthday in the first few minutes of March 10. It was far more trouble than you’d gone to for any of the others and you were certain Bucky knew that.
Still, he seemed determined to make you admit it, raising his eyebrows and bobbing his head to urge you to answer his question.
“No,” you whispered, heat filling your cheeks. “I did that just for you.”
To Bucky’s credit, he didn’t gloat. A soft, happy smile curved his mouth as he murmured, “You’re too sweet for me.”
When you ducked your head to avoid his heating gaze, Bucky’s metal fingers slid beneath your chin, gently tilting your face up to look at him again. His blue eyes searched yours, a serious, contemplative look on his face.
“Can I tell you my birthday wish, sunshine?”
Every bit of your heart and soul yearned to know Bucky’s birthday wish. Not trusting your voice would work through your eagerness, you nodded, squeezing his hand in yours and holding it against your chest while you stared up into his wondrously beautiful eyes.
“I wish I could kiss you.”
Words escaped you as Bucky’s birthday wish sank into your mind. For a brief moment, you wondered if you were dreaming—that was the only explanation your brain could come up with as to why the man you felt drawn to, the former Winter Soldier, would want to kiss you.
When your tongue flicked out, wetting your suddenly dry lower lip, you watched as Bucky’s gaze dropped to your mouth, the blue of his eyes darkening as he tracked the movement. A thrumming heat pulsed through your body and you whimpered so softly, you knew he could only hear it because of his heightened senses.
“Bucky, please,” was all you could manage, a thread of desperation in your whispered words.
He huffed a little laugh, his exhalation ghosting over your lips a moment before his mouth brushed against yours. An electric quiver of pleasure sparkled through your body, making your head fuzzy and your limbs melt further into the Winter Soldier’s broad chest.
A soft whine slipped from your lips and your free hand fisted in Bucky’s t-shirt, pulling your bodies closer together. Bucky took the hint, pressing his lips to yours more firmly, kissing you properly and making all thoughts flee your mind as your brain was suffused in pleasure.
His mouth was soft and gentle as his lips worked against yours, exploring you like you were something precious to be coveted. It was a contrast to the scruff on his jaw that rasped against your skin and made you shiver in delight. Running your hand up from Bucky’s chest to dive into the hair at the back of his head, you sank into his kass as you pulled him closer, urging him to deepen it.
When Bucky’s tongue licked along the seam of your lips, you opened for him and he delved inside, kissing you more thoroughly. His metal hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you cradled in his arms exactly where he wanted you as his tongue plunged gently into your mouth, tangling with your own and learning what made your breath hitch in desire, what made you sigh in satisfaction.
It was only when your lungs ached for air that Bucky eased back, pulling away enough so his hooded eyes could read your expression. You could feel the dazed look on your face, your mind still fuzzy, your body buzzing from Bucky’s kiss—and it seemed he liked that. A grin spread slowly across his face.
It was the first time you’d ever seen him smile so widely, and your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt a mirroring grin curve your kiss-swollen lips.
Ducking his head, Bucky pressed his forehead to yours, his lashes brushing your cheeks as he closed his eyes.
“Thank you, sunshine,” he murmured, his tone hushed and reverent. His voice was so rough with emotion, it sounded like he was chewing on gravel. “This is already the best birthday I’ve had in a very long time.”
You cupped his stubbled jaw in your palm, leaning forward to brush your lips to his in a sweet kiss, both of you smiling too much to deepen it.
“I’m glad I could help make it memorable,” you said honestly.
Bucky huffed another laugh, like what you’d said was an understatement, and squeezed you to him in a hug. You hugged him in return, your clasped hands trapped between your bodies.
For a long moment, you sat together in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. Then, Bucky broke the quiet coziness of the moment as he rasped a question.
“Will you stay with me while I keep reading?”
A yawn stopped you from answering right away, but once you’d recovered, you blinked sleepily up at Bucky. “Sure, but will you read to me?”
Bucky squeezed your fingers gently in his as he murmured, “Of course, sunshine,” and brushed a kiss to your cheek.
He shifted you both around so he was laying down on his back and you were on your side, your body wedged between his broad form and the back of the couch. Bucky wrapped his metal arm around your back, tucking you into his side with your head pillowed on his chest. He laced his warm fingers together with yours again, holding them on his chest over his steady beating heart while he opened the book with his metal hand.
It turned out that the Winter Soldier had a soothingly deep and soporific voice, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep listening to Bucky’s husky timbre reading Tolkien’s words to you. It was one of the best night’s sleep you’d had in a long time, your body instinctively knowing you’d never been safer than in the arms of the former Winter Soldier.
When Tony discovered you and Bucky asleep in the library early the next morning, he was surprised enough to gather the rest of the Avengers to witness the rare sight. There were some surprised gasps, and even more whispers asking each other whether it was safe to try to wake either of you up. They didn’t know if they wanted to risk the Winter Soldier’s wrath.
In the end, the quiet commotion of the assembled crowd was enough to rouse Bucky, which was enough to wake you.
Embarrassed heat immediately filled your cheeks when you realized you’d been discovered sleeping on a sofa, your body entwined with Bucky’s, in one of Tony’s studies. There was some good-natured teasing from Nat and Steve, but one glare from Bucky quickly put an end to it.
“At least she wished me a happy birthday,” he grumbled as he helped you stand from the couch, his hands unbearably gentle as he smoothed down your rumpled clothes.
Your smile was drowned in a yawn as you tried to brush the sleep from your eyes. Leaning against Bucky, you let him support your weight while your body tried to wake up.
Bucky’s comment set off a chorus of birthday wishes from the team—including an affable, “I knew it was your birthday, Buck, she just beat me to it,” from Steve. The former Winter Soldier endured the friendly birthday celebrations like he would a Hydra torture session, with grim acceptance. You had to muffle a giggle in his metal arm while you clung to his hand.
When the others finally dispersed, wandering off to scrounge up some breakfast, you squeezed Bucky’s metal fingers with your own to get his attention. “D’you wanna get some more sleep?” you asked softly, looking up at him from under your lashes, feeling shy again.
“Lead the way, sunshine,” he said, nodding and brushing a kiss to your temple before nudging you toward the door.
Quickly, you led Bucky through the halls of Avengers Tower until you got to the door to your rooms. While you swiped your keycard to get in, you glanced at him and gave him a sleepy smile.
“After a nap, we can do whatever you want today,” you offered Bucky, “since it’s your day.”
The former Winter Soldier chuckled and dropped your hand, gathering you up in his arms and crowding you through the door to your rooms before kicking it shut behind him. He walked you backward toward your bed, ducking down and stealing a kiss that made you gasp in delight. He peppered kisses all over your face until you were giggling wildly.
“All I want is to spend the day with you, sunshine,” he rumbled in a husky voice between brushes of his lips against your skin, which only made you heart beat more recklessly in your chest.
“I think I can make that wish come true,” you said, you voice breathy from giggling through Bucky’s sweet treatment.
Bucky pulled you into your bed, rolling until he was on his back and you were sprawled across his chest. He tipped your chin up to press one more kiss to your lips before pulling away to tug a blanket over your tangled bodies. Both of you settled in together, your arms wrapped around one another as you let yourselves drift back to sleep.
You fell asleep with a smile on your face, more than happy to fulfill Bucky’s birthday wish and spend the day with him doing whatever he wanted, whether that was kissing him until you were breathless or laying on a couch listening to him read The Hobbit to you. As long as you could make Bucky happy on his birthday, then you were happy.