Sam was sitting up, hands on his knees and staring blurrily at the door. Next to him was Bucky, leaving out small grumbling noises and dragging the covers in to a tight bed burrito. If he had been even a bit more awake, he would have recognized it as almost sickeningly cute, but right now his spectacularly low brain faculties were taken by the figure standing in the doorway. It was... saying something. It was chirpy.
Realizing that it might go away if he ignored it, Sam laid down and pulled whatever covers he could gather from Bucky's death grip over his head. For few seconds there was blessed silence and darkness, until it ripped away and Bucky rolled on top of him from the momentum.
The cover-stealer had grabbed one of his legs and bodily dragged him off the bed, dumping him on to the cold floor. That cleared Sam's muddy thought a bit more, even if he used them to ostensibly curse the torturer in to the depths of hell. That lunatic just kept on laughing, grabbed Bucky and made him fall again on top of Sam.
Sam and Bucky shared a look, and moved together to grab their tormentor's ankle, who also went by Steve but right now didn't deserve anything but the worst of torture, and made him loose his balance so he fell on the ground next to them. At this, Steve started to guffaw, but let out a startled umph when Bucky plopped on top of him and started to cling at him like a sleepy sloth. And accidently or not put his hand over Steve's mouth.
Sam thought that maybe now the commotion had died down, so he staggered to the bed and immediately fell back asleep after he laid his head down.
Next time he woke up the clock showed far more humane time, and Bucky had at some point followed him back to the bed and was now working as a very intimate spare heater for him. As much as Sam didn't want to bother him, his bladder was painfully full. Sam started to slowly move away from the grip, and silently thanked God that Bucky wasn't holding him with his metal arm.
After the lengthy extraction was over, Sam ran to the bathroom and started his morning routine. Or in other words, took a leak, smelled his breath, decided to brush his teeth and washed his face with cold water.
There were sounds coming from the kitchen, and Sam hesitated slightly on if to continue approach. Memories of previous mornings and their... kitchen disasters sprung to his mind and Sam wasn't quite sure if he was prepared to face a new one this morning. Then he took a deep breath, straightened his back and walked to the kitchen.
Well, nothing was yet on fire, there was no smoke, Steve wasn't bleeding (Seriously, he was a WW2 veteran, fought aliens but kitchen equipment defeated him? And not the mixers and such, mostly it was ordinary kitchen knives and spatulas. Oh, he didn't want to think about the Spatula Accident. He would have to ask Director Fury if he had any memory wipes available that didn't leave him a vegetable.) and the mess on the kitchen was even manageable.
When Steve saw him standing in the doorway, he quickly abandoned his... pancake? on the pan, and guided Sam to his chair and put one of those so-called pancakes on his plate. It was mostly flat, with some small bumps that opened to reveal unmixed flour when he poked them with his fork. It was half raw, which Sam thought was a rather new sight, usually Steve's food tended to be rather over-cooked.
With Steve's mildly expectant and hopeful look Sam cut out a small piece of it, and without breaking eye contact put it into his mouth. It took all his self-control not spat it right out, but he managed to swallow it with a smile, making Steve turn around with satisfied air. There was no way in hell he was gonna mange to eat rest of it, though.
Luckily for him, Bucky had finally managed to drag himself up and make himself mildly presentable (i.e., his breath didn't smell like road kill) and gave both Sam and Steve a slow good morning kisses and plopped down on to his chair. He started to eat his pancakes quickly, making appreciative noises Sam couldn't tell were genuine or not. He knew Sam and Bucky could eat practically anything, but this was ridiculous!
Until he saw Bucky spitting the half chewed mess on to his palm immediately after Steve's back was turned and dumping it to a battered looking potted plant's soil. Sam gave a small sigh of relief on the fact that from his two superhuman boyfriends, at least one of them had a normal taste buds.
Luckily for their stomachs, Steve went to pick up the morning paper and got stuck talking to the old man next door. During that time both of them threw out the leftover pancakes and Bucky went to salvage the rest of the batter while Sam manned the use of frying pan. When Steve had finally come from chatting up the noisy neighbour there was a pile of good-looking pancakes and bottle of syrup next to it. Steve tried to say something about wanting to have made them the breakfast, but Bucky was a skilled at deflecting his concerns and Sam was quickly piling Steve's plate with heavenly smelling pancakes. It didn't take long for Steve to cave and start eating.
When all of them had finally had their fill, which considering Steve's and in a bit lesser scale Bucky's appetite took a remarkably long while, there was the traditional rock-paper-scissors competition on who had to clean up the table. Surprisingly Bucky lost this time, and Steve and Sam fled before he would demand two out of three.
Sam threw himself on the couch and managed to catch the remote control by a mere second before Steve. He let out a croon of victory and immediately turned it to a news channel. Steve was making pitiful sounds, but Sam knew for a fact that he would have picked the same channel if he had grabbed the remote first. It was merely the principle of the thing anyways.
Nothing really new was happening, new superhero had appeared in Hell's Kitchen and there was talk about the elections. Sam laid his head on Steve's chest and relaxed. All was good.