"Holy motherf-" Crash. Thud. "Bucky!"
Bucky sighs. It's 5am and the bed is warm and the sheets are fresh washed and made of nicer fabrics than most of his clothes have ever been in the past. He doesn't like getting out of bed. It smells like Steve and cotton and sunlight. It's nice. And Steve's safe. He may not know it, but he's fine. Bucky can tell exactly where the shouting was coming from and he knows exactly what's causing it. It's his own punkass fault and Bucky refuses to feel even a moment of pity for him.
"Bucky!" Steve yells out again. More insistent and maybe, just maybe, a little indignant.
Bucky groans and stretches. But he gives in and gets up too. He always gives in to Steve.
He pads out into the hallway in nothing but the Captain America boxer shorts that Steve pretends to hate but secretly kinda adores. Steve is far less likely to murder him if he's both topless and half asleep. It'll be fine.
"Steve?" Bucky says in a neutral tone of voice, like Steve hasn't just been hollering for him for five minutes.
"Bucky," Steve says with grim patience. "Why is there C4 rigged all the way around the hall cupboard?"
Bucky grins. Bucky is a genius and his brilliance is about to be recognised.
"Because you, Steven Grant Rogers, are a sneaky little punk."
Steve glares. It's adorable. Bucky wants to walk over there and kiss him senseless. But that would be far too close to giving him what he wants.
Because Steve is stuck. He can't move without triggering the booby trap, and as far as Steve knows, blowing up half their apartment. Bucky takes a moment to admire the way Steve's forearm tenses, muscles tight in both frustration and careful control. Bucky licks him lips, can't help letting a little bit of what Steve inspires in him show on his face.
Steve must see it there because he sighs. It sounds kind of put-upon, which is kinda rude. Steve usually loves Bucky's imagination, it's only ever got them into mostly good places. Mostly. If it wasn't for the way Steve's body inspires him they never would have figured out how the serum allows Steve to-
"Bucky!" Steve snaps. Bucky's eyes may have been wandering over Steve's tense posture and damn near perfect ass rather than the booby trap. It happens.
"Steve?" Bucky replies, looking back up to Steve's eyes. That's just as bad for giving him dirty thoughts, but he doesn't tell Steve that.
"Explosives! Hall cupboard? Why?"
Steve seems upset. Typical.
"You know why," Bucky says. Quite reasonably, if you ask Bucky.
Steve blinks at him then looks back at the door handle, then back to Bucky.
"Really?" Steve sounds like he's figured it out but doesn't believe it. He should.
"Yes. Every year you try and find out what your presents are weeks in advance. It ruins Christmas, Steve. You can't ruin Christmas. What would Oprah say if she knew that Captain America ruined Christmas?"
Steve makes that irresistibly frustrated sound in the back of his throat, and Bucky smiles.
"C-fucking-4 ruins Christmas, Bucky!"
"Nah, that just adds to the fun." Bucky winks at him, and despite his potentially dire situation Steve gives in and smiles, just a little.
"You're insane," Steve says, through an exasperated laugh.
"You love it," Bucky says and smirks his way right up to Steve.
He places his hand over Steve's then reaches up with the metal one to flick the booby catch on the door frame. He can feel it when Steve relaxes, all the tension just washing out of him and he leans against Bucky, just a little. Just enough.
"Now," Bucky says, starting to kiss a line alone Steve's shoulder. "What's my reward for saving Captain America's perfectly sculpted bacon, huh, Stevie?"
"How about, me not telling the bomb squad where the C4 came from?"
"No, that's no fun at all. I've got a much better idea."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhmm." Bucky pulls Steve just a little closer, close enough to give him an idea. "Life and limb, Steve. It gets a fella's blood going."
"Right."
Bucky kisses the sensitive spot behind Steve's ear.
"We were never in any danger were we?" Steve guesses.
"Depends what kinda danger you mean?" Bucky says, still more interested in the way Steve arches his neck back when he bites just there. "We weren't gonna blow up, no. But if you touch those presents you are going to live to regret it."
"Oh yeah?"
Bucky is distracted enough by nibbling on Steve's ear that he almost misses it. Steve shifts his weight, almost subtle, for Steve, and he gets a hold on Bucky's wrist. Not the sort of hold you need for what Bucky has planned. Still hot, but not what he had planned.
"Hey-"
Before Bucky can react Steve spins them, throws his weight into it and flips them so Bucky lands on his back, on the floor with a solid thump. Steve lands on top of him, pinning him with his gaze as effectively as his body.
They're both breathing harder than necessary. Bucky would lean up and kiss him, except that it would just encourage him.
"I'm still not telling you what you're getting for Christmas."
"Wanna bet?" Steve's voice does that lower than usual, gravel thing that does all sorts of other things to Bucky.
Hell yeah, he does.