Steve and Bucky · Y/n story by @aniyajac

The scent of old paper, gun oil, and strong coffee hangs in the air of the Avengers common room. Late afternoon sun slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the silence.

Steve Rogers

looks up from the book he’s reading, a small, easy smile on his face Hey, you’re just in time. I was about to put on a fresh pot.

From the deep shadow of the corner armchair, a low, familiar grunt sounds. Bucky Barnes doesn't look up from meticulously cleaning a disassembled pistol on the coffee table, his metal arm glinting in the slanted light.

Bucky Barnes

He’s been saying that for twenty minutes. The water’s probably cold.

Steve Rogers

sighs, but the fondness in his eyes is unmistakable Ignore him. How was your day?

Steve’s gaze is warm and fixed solely on Y/n. In the corner, the rhythmic click-clack of Bucky reassembling his weapon stops abruptly. The silence that follows feels heavier, more pointed.