Accidents Happen

Never Tear Us Apart

Sunlight fell across your face through a slit in the curtains. Turning away from the brightness, you opened your eyes and gazed into the still-sleeping face of Bucky Barnes. It must've been a restful night, his face relaxed with his lips slightly parted. Most nights were good but every once in a while he would wake with a furrowed brow and clamped mouth. You knew he still struggled with nightmares, but he didn't like to talk about it. All he ever said was that it was always better with you there. Which is what made today so hard.

It had been a two weeks since that fateful night of Fraggle Rock and the following morning of bliss. You and Bucky fell into an easy routine of friendly interaction during the day and as much of a workout in the gym as either of you could handle before the REAL workout took precedent at night. You had moved beyond the wrestling mats by then and had just a little more self control in order to make it to one of your rooms before disrobing.

This particular morning, you were aware which room you had stumbled into last night in a instant. Bucky's room still consisted of 4 blank white walls, a bed, and a small bookshelf with a lamp on top. You were all for the minimalist look, but it could use a little personality. In a moment of inspiration, you grabbed a black Sharpie from the bookshelf and uncapped it. Rolling onto your stomach and scooting up to the wall above the head of the bed, you began to draw.

Bucky was awakened by your movement and blindly reached out for you grabbing your thigh, which caused you to jump with a yelp.

"Hey! You're gonna mess up my masterpiece."

"Your what?" he asked, opening one eye. He rolled over toward you and followed your gaze, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder as he watched you draw. "Is that me?"

You smiled with a nod. He was pointing to one of your characters which was barely more than a stick figure. His had a hastily drawn metal arm with a star on the shoulder and a man bun, holding a dumbbell. Your stick figure representation had a ponytail and a slightly curvy figure with music notes around her head. You drew a bubble above her head and wrote inside "Let's get Buck naked!"

He laughed out loud, throwing his head back, then burying his face in your neck and covering it in kisses.

"May I?" he asked and you relinquished the marker. He drew band-aids on a handful of areas on your drawing's body.

"Hey!" you protested, elbowing him in the ribs and reaching for the marker. Apparently he had noticed the bruise on your hip from running into the kitchen counter yesterday.

"Wait, I'm not finished!" He added a dialogue bubble above his own drawing and scrawled inside the words 'Gimme those American thighs.'

You giggled at that, curling into him with a kiss. You grabbed the marker one last time and signed your name under the drawing before you capped it and tossed it aside.

"Hmm. If anyone sees this, it might be a dead giveaway," he stated.

You pulled away from him and grabbed the pillow to cover your small artwork, which was only about 3 inches tall and just above the mattress.

"Besides, is there a high probability that someone would be here on your bed to see it? Cause I mean we should come up with a code or something, maybe a day-of-the-week situation so things don't get messy."

"Y/N..."

But you couldn't stop yourself, letting the playful but slightly insecure thoughts pass your lips.

"I mean, I could do Monday, Wednesday, Friday and every other Saturday if that works, but maybe we should all have a little powwow and...."

"Y/N, stop," he said, holding your face gently with his hands. He pressed his lips to yours tenderly and held them there, as if to pass a wordless message on to you.