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Bucky was crooning in the kitchen, swaying to the music as he tried his hand at baking. The singing was soft, almost under his breath as he beat blackberry preserves into a chocolate mix with steady motions. Cooking had become his number one hobby as of late but the baking was new and took a great deal of his concentration.
He was wearing nothing but a pair of Clint’s sweatpants, the legs too long and pooled around his ankles in a way that would be disastrous in a fight but so right in this moment. And that was something too;
Not being ready for a fight all the time.
So this was their Tuesday evening.
Bucky sang and Clint laid on the floor and listened as though spellbound. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it but it was the first time Bucky seemed not to mind that he was listening. Confident. Relaxed. Comfortable here in this space he’d so willingly invited Clint into - no matter that Clint had invited him to the building in the first place.
A year. It had been a year since he first was wrapped in those arms, since he realized that love didn’t have to be a freefall - love. That was… yeah actually. Yeah he loved him.
The record player stopped and Bucky huffed and turned to glare at it.
“I got it.”Clint pushed up from the floor and scanned the collection at his disposal. He dropped Sinatra onto the machine and gently placed the needle in the groove.
Then, feeling bold, he entered the kitchen. Bucky, who was singing to this one as well, turned his head over his shoulder to smile at Clint before he lost the lyrics to concentrate on pouring equal amount of batter into the silicone cake pans he had bought.
Clint wrapped arms around his waist, bending a little to get the angle right, patient as he sang into the curve of Bucky’s neck.
“I practice everyday to find some clever thing to say to make the meaning come true ~” he laid a kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder and knew he didn’t imagine the way Bucky leaned back into him. “But then I think I’ll wait until the evening gets late and I’m alone with you.”
Bucky set the mixing bowl aside, finishing the next lines of the song as he did so. Clint kissed his neck. Got himself distracted until the chorus;
“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you.”
The oven wasn’t ready yet. Bucky hummed and turned in his arms, forced him to straighten up and they swayed together in the kitchen like something straight out of an old tv show.
Clint waited until the song was fading and said more plainly this time, “I love you.”
Maybe it was stupid and cliche but it was true.
“You’re getting sappy on me.” Bucky said, brushing their lips together.
“You’ll keep my secret.”
“Yeah.” Bucky smiled, utterly content in a way no one ever expected him to be again. “I always will.”
And maybe it’s not so stupid after all. Because those four words sounded a lot like ‘I love you too’.