Every morning, Bucky wakes up a free man. Fewer things are better than being free. One of those things is being loved. Every morning, Bucky wakes up loved. Whether it's the arms wound around him or the breath in his hair or the kisses pressed to the back of his neck as he opens his eyes- he never starts the day alone. As soon as he found his way back to his best friend, it's been Steve's sole mission to give him more happiness than he knows what to do with. This often results in him getting pillows thrown in his face because he's a corny old man. That doesn't stop him from kissing Bucky's forehead in public or holding his hand every chance he gets. Bucky is loved, and Bucky is free.
This morning when he opens his eyes, it takes him a second to realise this. Sometimes he has horrible dreams that he can't escape, full of pain and cold wind and the sound of gunfire. Sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat, panicking and wide-eyed until he remembers where he is. This is one of those times. But like always, Steve is right there to bring him back.
"Bucky, hey, listen to me, you're okay, you're okay." He says quietly but urgently, holding Bucky's face in his hands and waiting for the other man's breathing to slow itself down. Bucky clings to him frantically until he's eventually able to relax.
"Nightmares?" Steve whispers- Bucky just nods, wiping residual tears from his eyes.
"It was about the surgeries." He explains. "After I fell off the train, when this happened." He touches his shoulder and winces. "It always hurts when I think about it."
Steve kisses him then, softly and suddenly, letting his hand run down Bucky's arm until his fingers intertwine with metal ones. Bucky smiles against his mouth and kisses him harder, his other hand on the back of Steve's neck. He frowns when the kiss breaks, only to gasp a moment later when Steve's lips trail down his neck to the scars where skin meets steel. Steve kisses over each raised mark, every place where his skin has been pulled back and stitched down. Bucky puts a hand over his own mouth, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions that he can't even begin to explain- all he knows is that it doesn't hurt anymore.
"I love you." Steve murmurs in between kisses, a hushed chant that seems to melt every ounce of tension in Bucky's body. "I love you. I love you. I love you." He pulls Bucky's hand away from his mouth and kisses him again, tenderly and perfectly and in so many ways reverently.
"Better?" He asks when Bucky finally lets him stop.
"Better."