|Anonymous : Bucky tends to be cold constantly, and has trouble sleeping at night if he's at all cold because it brings back memories of the cryo tank, and his nightmares get worse as a result. Steve's fast metabolism means he tends to give off a lot of body heat--Bucky snuggles up against him at night because he actually feels warm for once in his life.|
the first few nights after steve finds him he tries to tough it out alone, shivering fitfully no matter how many blankets he piles on top of himself. he knows steve went through so much to track him down, and he’s been endlessly patient and understanding when bucky struggles to speak or flinches back from even the gentlest of unexpected touches; he doesn’t want to make any more trouble.
he’s trying so hard not to think about the hunk of icy metal that’s a part of him, sending not-entirely-temperature-related chills through his bones, that he doesn’t notice steve come in. it takes a cautious hand on his (warmer, flesh and bone) shoulder, a soft “bucky?”, before he starts and meets steve’s eyes.
as always, they match the warmth seeping into bucky where steve’s hand still rests. the contrast is near-painful, and he can’t stop his shiver.
"are you okay?" steve drops to one knee at the side of the bed, hand sliding to cradle the back of bucky’s neck.
"cold," is all bucky can manage, closing his eyes and curling deeper into his pathetically inadequate nest of blankets.
there’s a pause, only their breathing - bucky’s a fitful counterpart to steve’s deep, even breaths - breaking the silence. “would you -” steve finally says, and swallows. “i mean, would you be okay with me joining you?”
bucky’s tired enough that the words take a long moment to sink in. the sense of relief once they do is profound. “please,” he says, fervent.
it’s the work of a minute for bucky to move over, for steve to push a few of the extra blankets to the end of the bed. he slides into the bed behind bucky, a long, solid line of blessed warmth down his back, soft breaths on the back of his neck. steve’s arms curl around him, pulling him in tight, and bucky sighs out a long breath of relief.
|Anonymous : Imagine Bucky is part of The Avengers and is still getting bits and pieces of his memory here and there. Then comes a horrible memory. He remembers killing Howard and Maria and making it look like an accident..|
imagine bucky being completely distraught about it, because tony is his friend and he’s afraid, selfishly, he thinks, that this is going to ruin that, because why on earth would tony want to be around him knowing that?
he goes to steve with it, because he doesn’t know what to do - he can’t keep that from tony, but he has no idea how to tell him - and steve just shrugs and says, “buck, he already knows. he’s had all that declassified hydra intel for months, and i’m pretty sure he doesn’t hate you.”
"why not?" bucky asks. "i mean, he probably should. i would, if i were him."
"i’m not gonna pretend it didn’t upset him at first, but he knows you, and he knows that wasn’t you. look, no one hates natasha for her time with the kgb or clint for that time loki turned him against us or bruce for the things he does when the other guy comes out, so why do you think you’re any different?"
bucky’s silent for a moment. “i guess it’s easier to forgive other people than it is to forgive yourself,” he says finally.