Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Closer

Bucky fights his eyes from closing, his hand not having moved from your forehead in the past hour and a half once he realized it was the very thing that helped you finally get some sleep. He sighs with every few breaths you take, just admiring the soft beauty you naturally give off in the bright moonlight from the window.

This week has been nothing but absolute terror for the both of you. Two missions that overlapped the other, and a surgery you'd just gotten out of four days ago leaving you both exhausted. Bucky hasn't seen you sleep since before he sent you off, having missed everything you give once he learned it was you in critical condition.

The moment he'd heard the news, he was flying back from his surveillance op with Sam questioning him the whole time. There was no room for answers; hell, Bucky couldn't even think, only knew he had to get back and get to you. His love. His everything.

From Steve's side of things, you'd been caught up with grabbing the drive instead of taking your eyes around the room, a false agent turning on you. The past few months have been nothing but unloyalty between the agents Fury has brought over to the Avengers, rogue Hydra members still peppered inside causing the breakage between picking who to choose, and who to spy on.

You'd chosen wrong.

Bucky arrived only minutes after you'd been released into the recovery wing, finally allowed to see the true damage that'd been done. He couldn't take his eyes off the bruises and marks, ears finally letting his mind relax once they caught onto your settled heartbeat; though much slower than he preferred.

Holding you now has been the only thing he's wished for, muscles still tense from the non-stop stretch and tear they've been through, head pounding from stress, and thumb slowly cramping as it begins its same cycle across your forehead. He wouldn't stop for the world, though, as he watches you sleep, willing for everyone to burn if you got to keep this type of peace.

Bucky slowly let's the exhaustion take him under, not so free hand squeezing yours as some sort of unspoken promise he was just right here as his mind finally behinds to shut down. It's not manual, but mandatory, body in overdrive as well. It's been a rough couple of days for the both of you.

There's an ache all around as you shift through the darkness of the room you'd fallen asleep in, warmth spread throughout your body as you try to adjust to your surroundings. The last the you remember was Bucky using his special tactic to get you to relax, warm thumb rubbing just between your eyebrows to get you to close your eyes without the influence of medication.

His entire presence was absent now, only left with what used to be his body pressed up against you. His hand has disappeared from yours, arm no longer over your shoulders to keep you from moving away from him. You miss his touch, need the closeness as much as you need him in your life.

Only turning over, you find Bucky sleeping on his side, the moon hitting his arm just enough to reflect onto his face. You try and sit up as best as you can, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms over him and tug him close, but the stitches still present prevent you from even climbing over him.

Bucky was always big, muscular and just overall giant. His hands alone could do anything to you, so the thought of trying to move over him or pull him closer in such a state was more than just tiredness, but it caused mental pain your brain couldn't handle.

Your only thought was to push both hands between his shoulder blades, grunting once the full ache in your stomach made its presence known. Your boyfriend barely nudges forward, a sigh escaping his lips as he pulls the sheets further up, taking some from you in the process.

"Bucky," you whine, pushing him a little harder than the first time, only to watch as he doesn't move. His body is solid as a rock, shoulders still tense with anxiety and hands clutching the blankets without any ease. "Bucky." Trying again, you use your feet to push on his legs, almost crying without his contact.

It may be the head injury, but you need him closer. You need him all over you, even if all he gives is a simple hand in yours. But you're greedy for more.

Shoving him in one last attempt, you call his name with such a softness, you're surprised he even sat up, looking around the room before he automatically spins around to you.

Bucky's eyes light up with exhaustion, rings drawing them down to show just how little sleep he's gotten. His hand immediately reaches for you, thumb tucking itself on your cheek as you shift closer.

"Hey, sweet girl," he whispers sleepily, leaning forward and kissing your forehead as you move even closer. "Whatcha need, Y/N? It's super early, princess."

"You moved away," is all you can respond with, grabbing his arm to pull him closer. It was a dying need to have the contact with him, doing all possible things to have his heat. "Need you closer, Buck."

Bucky can't help but chuckle, smiling wider as you close your eyes and still attempt to pull his entire body on top of you. He manges to catch himself before he pins you to the bed, hovering over your chest as his right settles on your hips. He isn't going to lie; he likes feeling you as much as you do.

"Yeah, Baby?" Bucky smirks more, tucking hair behind your eyes as you cling to him by his neck. There's nothing more he wants than to just hold you like this, but it's not comfortable for either of you. "Want me close? How close, sugar?"

Without much of an answer, you push Bucky off you, waiting until he lies on his back before pushing his shirt up and crawling beneath it. Skin to skin was everything compared to the hand holding you you how you do on a daily basis. His shirt provides a safety field you know he doesn't really like, but he waits for you to get comfy, smiling all the way until you relax.

"This," you whisper, hands wrapped over him as you kiss at his neck sleepily. "I like this."

Bucky places his hands along your back, careful with the bruising. He feels your heartbeat along your spine, fingers aching to rip his shirt off to feel you better, but notices the comfort easily along your face, eventually relaxing the longer you stay. He likes this — not that he'd admit it out loud.

"Close enough, Doll?" He asks quietly, unsure if you're asleep or not due to how uneven your breathing is.

"No," you mumble out, but don't make an effort to move. You're comfortable, that's for sure, but it doesn't feel right. You want to be closer — someway somehow — and being like this just doesn't cut it. Frustrated tears slip from your eyes, and as much as you try to conceal it, Bucky notices immediately. "I'm sorry, Bucky. I don't know what, it's just not close enough, and now you're awake, and I'm—"

"Hey," he interrupts softly, twirling a few strands of hair between his fingers the more you hide in his neck. "Don't apologize, Y/N, I understand. It's been rough."

Agreeing silently, you nod, kissing up his jaw. "Miss sleeping next to you. Been too long."

"Agreed, sugar," Bucky chuckles, happily laying back with the hope of keeping you right where you are. "Honestly, I think you're pretty cute when you get all clingy. I want you just as close."

"I'm concussed, Bucky."

"Want you close even more." He kisses the top of your head and just relaxes, more than he had when he'd fallen asleep. Your breaths fan his neck in even puff, lips still pressing barely there kisses against his skin. He wants this every night. "Sleep, baby," Bucky whispers, careful with his fingers as they dance along your head. "Not going anywhere."

Nodding, you lay your head on his shoulder and sigh, tired eyes closing with ease the more he plays with your hair. "Love you, Buck."

"Love you more, sweets."

Word Count - 1428

Just a small little drabble while I get my ducks in a row lol