Stucky oneshots

Hidden Knives

Bucky was in the bathroom shaving his face, a towel wrapped around his waist as he'd just gotten out of the shower. Steve suddenly ran in and pushed his husband out of the way, beginning to rinse his hand with cold water.

"What the hell are you-" Bucky began to question him before seeing blood in the sink coming from Steve's hand. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I was trying to get one of your shirts out of your closet and something stabbed my hand." He explained as Bucky took over examining the wound. He carefully turned Steve's hand over, checking for any additional injuries aside from the deep stab on his palm.

He got the first aid kit out from under the sink and got out the gauze. "That was my closet knife." He explained as he wrapped the wound carefully.

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Your what?"

"My closet knife." He repeated like it was a normal thing. "You don't have one?"

"No, Buck, most people don't." He spoke slowly, watching as Bucky finished wrapping up his hand.

Bucky put the first aid kit away and resumed shaving his face. "Hmm." He hummed, sliding the razor carefully between his nose and upper lip.

Steve studied him quizzically before perching himself on the counter beside the sink.

"What?" Bucky asked confused as he rinsed the razor in the sink.

"A closet knife?" He questioned, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well yeah. I have knives hidden around the house just in case of emergency. You're seriously telling me nobody else does this?" He asked, turning off the water and putting the razor away. As he dried his face, he looked at Steve trying to make sense of what he was being told.

"You're the first person I've heard of having knives hidden around the house, babe. You're one-of-a-kind." He chuckled, handing him his aftershave.

"Huh." He sighed, putting his aftershave on before going to his closet to find clothes to put on. "Can't believe it."

He emerged from the walk-in closet a few moments later wearing jeans, a black tshirt, and his boots with his closet knife in his hand. "So you're telling me you don't have one of these hidden in your closet?"

Steve's eyes widened at the machete-like knife in his husband's grip, silently grateful that his wound wasn't much worse. "No, honey, I don't."

"That's so weird. You just-you go through life so...unprotected." He shook his head before putting his knife away in his closet spot.

"Yeah." Steve laughed, putting his shoes on. "Are you ready to go? You know if we're late to the restaurant, Sam will just make jokes about why we were late."

"Yeah, let's go." He nodded, pocketing his wallet, keys, and pocketknife.

"Hey wait." Steve grabbed his arm, stopping him and turning him around. He felt his clean-shaven face before kissing his lips. "You look so young with your face completely shaved."

"I look old any other time?" He teased, wrapping his arm around Steve as they continued walking to the car.

"No, you just have a baby-face when you shave." He giggled.

"Yeah well, leave my baby-face out of this. I only shaved because Sam said I looked nothing like I used to in my army picture and I have to prove him wrong." He explained, getting in the drivers seat and starting the car.

"Well I like your baby-face." He squished Bucky's cheeks playfully before buckling his seatbelt. "Who was sitting in your car? The seat is up so far."

"That would be Natasha when we went Christmas shopping for you yesterday." He answered, searching through the radio stations to find his favorite oldies station that Natasha had changed the previous day.

"Christmas shopping for me, huh?" He playfully asked as he reached below the seat to adjust it. "Did you get me that-ouch!" He suddenly exclaimed, pulling his hand back up to see he was bleeding once again.

He reached back under the seat carefully and pulled out another large knife.

Bucky looked over and nodded knowingly. "That's my car knife."

Steve shook his head in disbelief. "You're one-of-a-Kind, Barnes. Truly."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He held back a chuckle as Steve began digging through the glovebox for the first aid kit. Once again, he felt something sharp and recoiled his hand to see another bleeding wound. He carefully dug back through and picked up another knife, this one much smaller. "You're kidding me."

"That's my second car knife. I have four so watch where you stick your hands, would ya?" He explained as he began driving to the restaurant they were supposed to meet their friends at.

"What? Well where are your other two so I can find the first aid kit without any more puncture wounds?" He asked, not digging through the glovebox again until he was sure there were no more weapons in there.

"One in the backseat under the mat and one in the trunk under the floor. There was just the one in the glovebox, you're good."

Steve had to laugh as he went back to finding the first aid kit. "You're so weird."

"Yeah. Now put a bandaid on your hand before you bleed on anything. Blood never really comes all the way out of upholstery."

"You're so compassionate." He teased sarcastically, finally finding the kit and covering his fresh wounds.

Soon they were at the restaurant and, of course, they were the last ones to arrive.

"There they are, late as usual." Clint teased as they approached the table.

"What took you guys so long? Too busy tapping America's ass?" Sam teased as they sat down.

"No, too busy stabbing America's hands." Steve sighed, showing his bandaged hands to the table. "Bucky has knives hidden everywhere, evidently."

"Wow." Natasha chuckled. "Even I don't have knives hidden around my house."

"I'm sorry, baby. Don't go digging through my stuff and your hands will be safe." Bucky assured him, patting his shoulder.

"I noticed you shaved, Sergeant Barnes." Sam teased him, pulling up Bucky's army photo on his phone to compare. "And even with a baby-face, you still look much older than you did in the forties."

"No I don't!" Bucky argued defensively. "I literally look the exact same! With a clean shaven face, I don't look a day older than 24."

"That's just not true." Sam chuckled, loving to get Bucky upset. "You look about 15 years past 24."

"No I don't! Steve, back me up!" He turned to his husband.

"You don't look a day over 106." Steve kissed his cheek, which was heating up due to frustration. "You're handsome as hell, babe, don't let Sam get you all worked up. We just got here." He whispered to him, placing his hand on Bucky's thigh to calm him down.

Bucky took a deep breath, flipped Sam off, and everybody continued to enjoy their night. Later, as everyone was getting ready to leave, Bucky pulled Steve close and whispered. "So do you have any secret weapons I haven't found yet?"

"Oh yeah, I've got one I think you'd like." He smirked.

"Yeah? Let's go home then so you can show me, baby."

"Well, I think we better get going." Steve announced, standing up from the table.