Story's on archive so you can read here (smut)

Steve x bucky

Steve's drawing in bed when Bucky gets home. He jumps when the door slams and looks at the clock. It's midnight. He shakes his head at himself. He's sure last time he looked it was 10pm.

He's drawing by the single glow of a lamp, all the others are off, and he hears Bucky stumble and swear in the hall. Steve chuckles fondly and looks over his drawing. It's Bucky, leaning over a girl who's standing up against a wall. Their faces are inches apart. Bucky has one arm against the wall next to her head, the other hand is brushing his thumb over her cheek. He has that classic smile on his face he uses pulling girls. He's seen it a million times. They literally swoon. It's a pretty weird thing to be drawing, but inspiration doesn't always come easy, so he takes what he can get.

He hears Bucky taking off his boots and it's comforting for reasons Steve can't quite explain. It's a particularly cold winter, and part of the reason Steve's still up is it's too cold to sleep without Bucky in the bed. His own human radiator.

They have two singles, but long ago pushed them together when it started freezing on the inside of the windows. He had no idea why Bucky goes out in it.

Well. He does really.

"You still up, Stevie?" Bucky pokes his head round the door and smiles as he sees Steve still awake and drawing. "Burning the midnight oil with that portrait huh?" Bucky hasn't seen it yet. Steve's not sure if he'll show it to him or not.

"Yep."

Bucky's tipsy and Steve smiles fondly.

"Didn't realize what time it was." Steve puts the paper and pencil away in his bedside drawer as Bucky starts stripping off his suit. He keeps his vest and shorts on like usual. Steve on the other hand is sleeping in his thermals that go all the way to his wrists and ankles. For all the good they're doing.

Bucky will be much more effective.

He climbs over Steve gracelessly, slides under the covers and lays on his back. Waiting for Steve to ask.

"Go on, spill it, you're grinning even more than usual. What was her name?"

Bucky grins harder.

"Betty."

Bucky puts his hand on Steve's arm.

"Stevie you are like an icicle, come here."

Bucky rolls over onto his side and pulls Steve back against him and wraps himself around him.

Steve's whole body relaxes in relief at the heat. He's long since stopped objecting to Bucky keeping him warm. Even he's not that much of a stubborn idiot. One more chest infection could finish him, he's sure of it.

"Steve, you should have put the fire on," Bucky tuts in his ear, rubbing his arms.

"Yeah, I just lost track of time... Have I met Betty?"

"No. New in town. Visiting. She's quite tall, real dark hair, curly, red lipstick, and...curvy." Bucky demonstrates on Steve's chest exactly how big her breasts were and Steve laughs.

"You're terrible."

Bucky smells like smoke and bourbon. He smells like home.

"You want a bedtime story?"

Steve splutters. He can't remember when they started doing this, or how it started, or when it became okay. But at some point Bucky had started telling Steve about his encounters in graphic detail. And Steve wanted to know. He was never going to get a girl, at least not anytime soon. He reluctantly lived vicariously through Bucky's exploits. It was also a lot less effort than trying to talk to a woman.