23 Jun 2019
Bucky's life is a mess: The US government's been breathing down his neck ever since his trial, the Avengers are a constant pain in his ass, and putting his brain back together hasn't exactly been a walk in the park. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he fled Hydra.
He's doing okay, but what he doesn't need is any extra stress. And what he definitely doesn't need is for Steve to tangle with an amateur sorcerer and end up a massive, overly friendly, eighty-pound, shedding, slobbering dog. That Bucky's now responsbile for. For the foreseeable future.
But hey, silver lining. At least now Steve can't talk him to death.
08 Jun 2019
He lets out a long sigh and watches Bucky. Back home he was always too vain to let more than a day’s worth of stubble build up, but now he’s got about three days of scruff on his chin. He shouldn’t look handsome like this. His eyes are shut, but Steve can tell by his breathing that he’s still awake. The cat is curled up on his stomach and purring like an idling motor.
“He’s actually pretty cute.”
Bucky smiles softly, too sleepy to make whole faces.
“Damn right,” he hums. He’s stroking the cat’s fur, which is soft and fine now that it’s clean. He looks so open and inviting. Steve doesn’t close his eyes, watching Bucky’s gentle fingers and trying to come up with a plausible excuse to go touch him.