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Sam blinks awake slowly, the room still and warm, the sunrise peeking up from beneath his closed shutters. He usually gets up with the sun like clockwork, and if he’s got his man warm and soft next to him in bed, he doesn’t really mind.
“Too early,” Bucky groans before Sam can even say anything, and Sam just smirks, relaxing back onto one elbow so he can look down at Bucky. Now that he knows Bucky’s awake, he can let his guard down a little—neither of them are good at being startled.
“Never too early for this,” Sam says, voice low and husky as his presses a kiss to the nape of Bucky’s neck, tucking back his hair to get at more skin. Bucky is on his stomach, the muscles of his back bunching as he arches into Sam’s touches, the slope of his spine begging to be traced with Sam’s fingertips.
Bucky hums contentedly. “What’s on the agenda today, Free Bird?” He yawns like a lazy housecat.
Sam instantly regrets introducing him to Lynyrd Skynyrd. He just smirks, happy to tease Bucky a little longer. “Maybe I’ll just keep you in bed all day.” He wraps a hand around Bucky’s hip, squeezing the curve of his body as he nips at Bucky’s shoulder. “I mean, we’re just Avengers. What could possibly be more important?”
Bucky snorts, shifting slightly to look up at Sam, eyes still hooded with sleep. He looks softer without his arm, a little more vulnerable, but there’s still an unmistakable heat behind his eyes that makes him a formidable ally on a mission. “Really, though. If we could do anything, what would you do?”
Sam sighs, thinking for a moment, fingers still tracing lazy circles on the warm skin of Bucky’s back. “Anything?”
Bucky nods, face still buried in the blankets, looking up with curious eyes.
In a million years and a million universes, Sam Wilson never thought he’d be happy to wake up with the Winter Soldier next to him in bed, but as he thinks about beaches and vacations, road trips and new places and new experiences, there’s nothing he wants more than to see this man every damn day of his life. “As long as you’re with me, I’d probably be happy.”
Bucky is still for a moment, then smiles, shyly, closing his eyes when Sam comes in for a kiss. “You,” he says, licking his lips when Sam pulls away, “are such a sap.”
The rest of the morning involves more play-fighting and falling off the bed than Sam would’ve expected, but there’s still nowhere else he’d rather be.