fugue // stucky

16. John Kennedy

My bare feet glide across the kitchen tiles, silent. I huff and get chills. A black leather notebook of my own sits on the counter along with a pen. I grab them along with some glasses of water and head back to my awaiting.. friend? I don't care enough to think too much about it right now.

Steve sits, still fully clothed much to my dismay, in the same position he was in.

"Watcha got?" He says, much quirkier than usual.

I hold up my pad and wiggle it in the air, "have to keep these things updated," I explain and hand him a transparent cup. He takes it, his eyes not leaving mine and drinks it in one gulp.

"Thirsty?" I laugh and hand him mine, pulling the covers back so I can get under them.

"Oh, for much more than water," he winks and I chuckle.

"Cliché."

He huffs and finishes that glass quickly too. I pout, "I was thirsty too, y'know. That's why I had two glasses."

"Sorry," he rolls his eyes. I finally sit down and kick my feet under the blankets. Steve reaches down and pulls them over the bottom half of my body. I prop my torso against the headboard and grab the notebook and pen, starting to write. Steve wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles his head into my lap. I tense at first, not used to the contact, but then relax, ruffling a hand through his hair.

He hums and his breathing deepens. I assume he's sleeping. I lift my hand and finally start writing.

'Was attacked. Chris Banter. He's deaf now. I punched him in the head too hard.'

I'm filling myself in on what I don't remember writing down. I think harder.

'Was out for two days.'

I skip to more important things and smile as I write them.

'I live with Steve. I kissed him. He kissed me back. We sleep in the same bed.'

I look down at the beautiful blonde man beneath me. His face is relaxed, his mouth open slightly. His breath fans over my leg. His eyelashes rest gently atop his cheeks. I run a thumb over his lip and bite my own, suppressing the memory of earlier.

'I think I love him.'

My hand moves quicker than my brain and I stare at the words, blinking and shaking my head, continuing to write.

'Tony is a friend. He doesn't mean harm. He's finding HYDRA in New York. He is good.'

I make note to visit him to see how the investigation is going. I remember another key thing that happened and sketch it down.

'Rumlow. Bad guy. Attacked me. Might have gotten away. Burns.'

Steve shifts below me and grumbles. I decide that's enough for one night and switch off the lamp, shifting my body down until Steve's head is resting on my chest. I sigh and run my hand up and down his arm. I can't believe I didn't realize this sooner. Maybe I did. Maybe I'm just re-realizing that I have feelings for him. I clear my head of thoughts and focus on his breathing.

He makes tiny noises as he breathes, not snores, more like low pitched squeaks. I grin and add it to the list of things I love about him. Along with the light dusting of freckles on his nose and the small flecks of darker blue in his eyes. Oh, and his eyelashes. I shift slightly and plant gentle kisses on his eyelids. Not enough to stir him.