Who Am I? » [Stucky]

16. Morning Sunshine

The incredible greasy and mouth-watering smell of frying bacon teased Bucky's nostrils, dragging him up from his sleep. The smell had filled the air and his gut emitted a loud pleading rumble. The scent was intertwined with something else... He sniffed... scrambled egg. The overwhelming aroma was heavenly.

He rolled over and fell off the sofa with a thud, all tangled up in the cocoon-like blanket strewn across his lethargic body. He caught himself on his hands and remained silent, rather startled to have fallen the moment he awoke.

His head was ringing out with the same intense headache that reoccurred when he remember something; but he had been dreaming after all.

Steve reared his head and with a cheery smile said "Good Morning, Bucky."

Face pressed to the floor, drowned in tiredness and rolled like a burrito in the blanket; he furrowed his brow and squinted around at the bright room. The sunlight pierced his eyes, small blots appeared on his vision and he blinked away the bright specks.

"Mornin'?" He grunted, his face smooshed against the floor.

"Yeah..."

Steve flipped the bacon in the pan and it sizzled and popped as the lesser-cooked side hit the boiling oil. He scraped it about and it hissed and crackled.

"How did you sleep?" He tried his best not to laugh at his dishevelled friend; messy hair, a confused pouty little face and a limp body.

"How long was I asleep for?" He grumbled, trying to peel himself off the floor, to no avail.

Steve eyeballed the clock. "'Bout sixteen hours. You were asleep at six yesterday..."

"What time's it now?" He mumbled, cheek pressed to the floor

"ten'o'clock-ish..."

Steve dashed to the bread bin and grabbed a loaf, cut two slices and dropped them delicately in the toaster.

Bucky growled as he finally managed to prise himself off the floor and staggered to his feet. He promptly threw himself on the sofa. He rubbed his face with his hands as if he could just wipe away the fatigue and yawned broadly, his mouth stretching to maximum capacity and a few tears came streaming to accompany it. He disposed of the tears with a swipe of the hand.

"Tired?" Steve let a small baritone laugh escape.

"Mm..." He droned, making the dreary noise in the back of his throat.

"Hungry?"

Bucky's eyes shot open. "Starving..!

He sprung from the sofa and paused. He swayed, attempting to stay balanced through the headrush. He held his hands out either side until the dizzying sensation passed and drowsily navigated his way to the kitchen. Heavy footedly, he stumbled into the kitchen and clambered onto the kitchen worktop.

The toast popped up out of the toaster and Bucky lurched to the side, clutching his chest. It was just a toaster, Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Can you grab a couple plates from the cupboard t'your left please?" Steve angelically enquired, smiling softly at him. 

"Yeah, yeah, sure..." He rubbed his eyes and reached into the cupboard and placed them on the worktop with a small clank.

Steve pulled the steaming slices of toast out and popped them onto a plate and popped two more in their place.

"So, how did y'sleep?" Steve tried to get an answer out of him this time.

"Better than I have in ages..." He sighed deeply, his whole body feeling rejuvinaated.

"I'm glad to hear it." Steve skimmed his hand over Bucky's one planted on the worksurface.