Barnes & Rogers

S.R. & J.B.B Drabble - 30/100

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

"Bucky," I chided, slapping the hand that tried to get into the bowl with the spatula in my hand, "let me get the crumb coat on and then you can have the left overs."

"You know you don't need all this," the brunet practically whined as he licked the smudge of chocolate I left on his hand. He had a point, buy I just liked making him wait for the simple pleasure. "Besides, you're almost done with this. You got the top to do and this crumb shit is just thin."

"James Buchanan," I sighed in exasperation, flopping a glob of frosting on the top of the cake, "one, language, and two, do as you're told. Steve doesn't need your germs."

"Last night he didn't seem to mind my germs," he smirked, bumping into my hip, "and neither did you."

"Keep it up and you'll get the couch tonight," I said as stern as I could even though my lip twitched. "Did you wrapped the presents?" I could tell by his sheepish smile that he didn't. "Go," I said with an exasperated sigh before finishing the cake and putting it in the freezer.

"Do We have a box?" Bucky called down the hall.

"No, it's already in a box!"

"But he'll know what it is if I wrap it like this."

"Just wrap the damn box, James." I should have went and wrapped it myself, but the glaze needed a careful eye and Bucky was obviously too giddy to have him to watch a candy thermometer. It wasn't every day that our boyfriend turned 100.

"You guys home?" He was use to us being right there waiting for him, and we could hear the concern in his voice. It took both our wills to not call out to him, fighting the compliant side of us. His footsteps were heavy as he walked down the hallway, and my mind went to the thought of him in uniform still, causing me to whimper slightly, and Bucky's flesh hand covering my mouth.

"Y/N? Bucky? Where are you two?" Yeah, the concern was there, and I could only imagine the worry and thoughts going through his head.

"We're in here, Steve," Bucky called, breaking down from the restraint he had. He was always the first one to crack when it came to us.

"What are you doing in the kitch–"

"Surprise!"

We both yelled it, smiles plastered on our faces as we held hands, outstretching the other ones in celebration. Steve's eyes widened, moving between us and the blue cake in front of us.

"Really?" he smiled, his lips stretching into a soft smile, "you didn't have to."

"We wanted to, you punk," Bucky replied.

"Not every day you turn both 100 and 30," I added. I pushed the present next to the cake towards him, bouncing on my toes. "Open. And Bucky wrapped it."

Steve made his way around the table to pull us into a hug, a mess of limbs finding places to go. "The cakes beautiful, Y/N. Thank you. I'll open it later. Right now, I rather just spend some time with you both," he replied, pulling back and taking both our hands, pulling us with him as he walked backwards, "in bed."