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The wind howls outside, and it sounds like it’s sneaking into the cracks of the building even though Steve knows there aren’t any cracks, that Tony built the tower better than that.
Steve has spent a lot of time being cold. It makes you sensitive to it--little changes feel big all of the sudden. Fall has faded and winter is here in full force, and Steve feels it. He's trying not to mind it knows it's in his head, mostly. But been it's a bad night and it's cold and everything feels too much like the the day he lost Bucky. Or the day he lost Peggy.
The wind is howling and it feels too much like moments he knows logically are over. Whether it’s snowy cliffs or icy water the cold has never been kind to him.
And he's tired. So he gives up on trying not to mind the cold for a night, and starts layering everything he can find in his room.
The majority of his clothes came from Tony with the room, he doesn't know what's in the drawers. Most of the shirts are too small to layer well but he finds a long sleeve one and a chest full of hoodies. He pulls on three, a pair of running leggings and then sweats, and asks Friday to crank the heat. There's a comforter on his bed. He'd take a couple more but he doesn't know where Tony keeps them and he doesn't want to ask. Instead he climbs into bed and tries to stop feeling so goddamn cold.
Bucky finding him like that sometime around 3 am, waking up and getting a feeling something was wrong. Steve is curled up under his blanket, pulled tight around his shoulders, head barely peaking out. Bucky remembers with sudden clarity the winter it got so cold the pipes froze and they had huddled in the living room, shivering, just trying to get to sleep. Steve looks like that now.
Usually Bucky holds himself back. He’s scared he'll hurt someone. He knows it could happen. But tonight, for whatever reason, he doesn't hesitate. Steve looks small, and cold, and Bucky doesn’t think, for once about all the things that could go wrong. He backs out of the room, grabs the comforter off his bed, tosses it over Steve, clambers into bed. Steve doesn't say anything. Bucky knows he's probably ashamed. But Bruce has been teaching Bucky some things about getting better. And doing what you need to do to get there. He doesn't think Steve will get it, not right now, maybe not ever. So he settles for wrapping his arms around his friend.
"Tired?"
"Yeah." Steve says quietly, "So tired."
"You warm yet?" Bucky asks, careful to keep his tone neutral as he can, trying to say “I love you” with the cadence of his words.
Steve stiffens for a second, and then he seems to remember it's Bucky, not someone he needs to Captain America for.
"almost." he mumbles, and bucky tightens his grip
"That's good." Bucky says, softly, "we'll get there."
Steve sighs, and Bucky can feel the tired in every inch of him.
"Is it better?"
He shouldn't ask, it's in the verge of pushing, but his lips are pressed to the back of Steve's neck, and he just needs to know.
Steve sighs, shakes a little, and twists so his head is laying on Bucky"s chest the way they used to do sometimes, on the couch in Brooklyn. Steve can hear his heart beating, steady and sure.
"Yeah," He mumbles,” better."