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“Oh, it’s warm in here.” Steve comments as he climbs inside the cocoon, looking around curiously.
Bucky hums in acknowledgement, glancing at Steve briefly before turning his attention back to his book.
“Do you want me to hold that for you?” Steve asks after a few moments. Bucky glances up again, realizing the other man was gesturing towards the flashlight he was holding up over the book. Bucky quietly hands it to him, and Steve smiles at him in return.
The blanket is stretched between them like a makeshift tent, its corners draped behind their backs, blocking out the outside. Bucky is hunching over, so most of its weight rested on Steve’s head and wide shoulders.
It’s dark and quiet in here. Bucky had let Steve join him because he was starting to get bored all by himself. And now it’s just them. Just Bucky and Steve, under the blanket.
Steve holds the flashlight up and glances down at the book Bucky is reading. It was one of Bucky’s favorites, a fairy tale storybook with illustrations on each page that remind him of Steve’s old artwork.
A particular drawing of a fairy in the corner of the page caught his eyes, and Bucky pointed at it, turning the book around to show Steve.
“It’s beautiful.” Steve whispers. Bucky watches his eyes light up and his smile widen while examining the drawing. He thinks Steve is beautiful, too.
He points at the drawing again, then lifts his finger up to point at Steve, who blinks at him, seemingly confused by the gesture. “What are you trying to say, Buck?” He asks, voice patient and warm as ever.
“…D’aw” Is all that Bucky manages. He doesn’t feel much like talking at the moment, so he’s relieved when Steve’s expression shifts in recognition.
“Do you…oh, you mean me? Drawing?” Steve asks, and Bucky quickly nods, taking the book back, placing it on his own lap.
“I have thought about it. Illustrating children’s books.” Steve hums thoughtfully. “Maybe I will.” He decides after a moment, voice lifting slightly, bright with hope.
Bucky grins agreeably. He thinks he’d like it too. Steve is the best artist he knows.
Suddenly, Bucky gets an idea. He quickly slams the book shut, accidentally startling Steve, who was lost in thought. Bucky looks up at him in a silent apology, and Steve’s tense shoulders drop, their eyes meeting in quiet understanding.
Reaching a hand under his pillow, Bucky pulls out a small notebook, along with some coloring pencils and a handful of crayons. Steve gasps.
“Woah, you really do have everything here, don’t you?” He chuckles while Bucky flips through the notebook’s pages to find an empty spread. When he does, he places it in the small space between them and hands Steve a black coloring pencil. Steve takes it without question, watching Bucky gesture towards one page, before picking up an orange crayon and beginning to draw on the other.
“We’re drawing now?” Steve grins as he sets the flashlight down between them. He sounds amused. Bucky only nods in response, focusing on his drawing. “Hm, what should I draw...” Steve considers. Bucky shrugs noncommittally, he knows anything Steve comes up with would look great.
Steve eventually figures it out and starts drawing as well. Silence settles over the space under the blanket, with nothing but the soft sound of pencil scratching against paper as they each become engrossed in their own drawing. Since they are both right-handed, Steve’s hand would occasionally brush up against Bucky’s. Neither of them minded. They would simply shift a little, careful to not smudge the other’s work, before settling back into the easy quiet between them.
Halfway through the process, Bucky realizes that the way he’d positioned the notebook meant one of the drawings would end up upside-down. He pauses for a moment, eyeing the page, before glancing at Steve, who’s entirely absorbed with his sketching. Technically, Bucky’s side is the one flipped, but neither of them had said anything up to this point. Bucky shrugs, figuring that… it doesn't really matter. He doesn’t want to break Steve’s attention anyway, so he just keeps drawing.
At some point, he catches the soft hum of Steve’s voice and notices the man is quietly singing under his breath. It’s a familiar tune, one that Bucky knows well. Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star— he realizes, and starts humming along with Steve.
Steve seems pleasantly surprised, glancing at Bucky with that familiar warm grin. Bucky giggles as they continue to hum the lullaby together.
Bucky finishes his drawing first. When he’s done, he nudges Steve gently and shows him the final result. The drawing is a bit clumsy, but he likes it. He’d drawn the two of them sitting together on a floating bed, surrounded by space and stars. Steve lets out a soft breath when he sees it.
“This is amazing, Buck. Is that me?” Steve asks, pointing at the smiling blond stick figure. Bucky nods. “It’s us?” Steve beams, fingers gently grazing the corners of the page. “It’s wonderful.” He tells Bucky, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. Bucky’s lips curve shyly at the praise.
Bucky had taken his time meticulously filling in the background of his drawing, but Steve still wasn’t done with his sketch yet, so Bucky had to wait for him. He sighed and settled back against his pillow, watching as Steve sketched. Every so often, Steve would look at Bucky, only for Bucky to duck his head and avoid his gaze, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.
Bucky busies himself with Bucky Bear, the stuffed toy Steve got him a few weeks ago. He places the bear on his lap and caresses its fur carefully, his fingertips ghosting over its mask and sewn-on smile. Bucky Bear is always smiling, no matter what. Bucky finds that comforting.
When Steve announces that he’s finished, Bucky quickly lifts his head up to look at him. Steve hands him the notebook back, turning it around so Steve’s drawing is facing him the correct way.
Bucky is surprised to see… himself. It’s a rough sketch of him, head tilted down and a soft smile on his face. His grin steadily grows the longer he studies the drawing. It looks like it would fit right in with the drawings in his storybook.
He starts clapping his hands together, nearly bouncing in place, then falters, extending his hands out towards Steve instead, hugging him and squishing Bucky Bear between them in the process. Steve presses his face into his hair with a chuckle, returning the embrace. “I’m glad you like it, sweetheart.”
When they pull apart, Bucky lifts his thumb to his mouth, chewing lightly, his gaze drifting between Steve and their drawings. He doesn’t notice when Steve reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind his ear. The touch pulls his attention, and his eyes settle on the other man.
Steve doesn’t say anything. He just looks at him, a tender and fond look on his face.
Bucky muttered around his thumb. “Wha’?” He questioned, and Steve chuckled again.
“Nothing.” Steve replies, shoulders shrugging slightly. “You’re so beautiful.” He says. And it’s so earnest, so delicate, it slips past Bucky’s defenses and settles deep in his chest. Bucky can’t force himself to deny it, even if a small, self-deprecating part of him wants to.
Bucky timidly chews on his bottom lip before pointing at Steve, meeting his steady blue gaze. “Steve, too,” He murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. Steve’s smile widens.
“Aww, thank you.” He replies, voice soft with gratitude. Bucky turns his attention back to his teddy bear, stroking its fur deliberately.
Some time later, Bucky yawns.
“Sleepy?” Steve immediately asks, and Bucky hums in response, blinking slowly, his eyelids feeling heavy. Being here with Steve felt warm and safe, a rare kind of comfort that made him unafraid to surrender to sleep.
“Okay, how about you lie back, and I’ll lie back next to you?” Steve suggests. Bucky absently nods, shifting until he is nestled into the pillows behind him. He hugs Bucky Bear close to his chest and yawns again as Steve moves under the blanket, settling in with him.
“Song...” Bucky mumbles, tilting his head towards Steve and lifting a lazy finger to point at him. He hums a few notes from another familiar tune, just enough to make his request clear, his finger lingering in place.
“Bye-bye Baby?” Steve inquires. Bucky nods. It’s the name they’ve always used for the lullaby Steve sings to him when the world feels too big, although he’s pretty sure that’s not what it’s really called.
Steve places his hand on Bucky’s head, caressing his hair gently. Bucky leans into the touch, squeezing Bucky Bear one more time. “Alright, here I go,” Steve mutters to himself before he starts to sing, voice low and smooth.
“Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock,”
Bucky smiles faintly, imagining the melody as Steve sings the words.
“When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, but Mother will catch you, cradle and all.”
Feeling drowsier by the second, eyes half-lidded, Bucky begins to drift.
“From the high rooftops, down to the sea, No one's as dear as baby to me.”
Steve glances down at Bucky, pausing briefly to press a soft peck to his temple.
“Wee little fingers, eyes wide and bright,
Now sound asleep, until morning light.”
The last line of the lullaby fades, replaced by the steady rise and fall of their breathing. Bucky’s grip on his bear loosens as the world around him blurs, until all that remains is Steve’s unwavering presence beside him.
