WinterIron, T, 1k, just sleepy neighbor boys

For the @buckybarnesbingo fluffathon, day 3 prompts: More, Mine

(Part 1, Part 2)

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“Tony,” Bucky says quietly, peeking down at him and wiggling his shoulder a little where Tony is leaning heavily against him, hoping to get his attention without actually dislodging him. “Tony, you’re missing the end of the movie. Don’t you want to know what happens?”

Tony makes a sleepy, grumbly noise that’s way more adorable than it has any right to be, and smashes his face a little harder into Bucky's shoulder. “I don’t want to know how it ends,” he grumbles, “I’m going to have nightmares. Why would you want to make that any worse.”

“You just don’ appreciate good cinema,” Bucky says with a sniff and grins when Tony lets out a reluctant huff of laughter, his breath warm through Bucky’s shirt.

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” Tony says and Bucky can practically hear the eyeroll that goes with it. Tony turns a little further into Bucky’s side, folding his legs up into Bucky’s lap and settling in even as he asks “is there more pizza?”

“There is not,” Bucky says, shooting a look at the empty boxes on the coffee table, because it’s way easier than focusing on all the borderline-cuddling, “you ate most of it by yourself. I want t’ be mad, but honestly I’m jus’ too impressed.”

“Well I did pay for it,” Tony says, shamelessly, and it really is too bad he doesn’t look up to appreciate the unimpressed look Bucky is trying to level at him.

“I’m lettin’ you sleep on my couch,” Bucky points out, though that was true even before Tony ordered them food. He doesn’t point out that Tony is more on him than on the couch at this point, and oh would you look at that, Bucky’s arm is wrapped around Tony’s shoulders in return, and Bucky really can’t find it in himself to pull away.

“That you are,” Tony agrees happily and slings one arm around Bucky’s middle, snuggling into his side like Bucky is an oversized stuffed animal, his hair tickling at Bucky’s chin and his breath warm again Bucky’s throat. “And for that, I owe you my life. Please take good care of it.”

“Oh hell no,” Bucky says with a laugh, hesitantly dragging his hand down Tony’s side and getting a little bolder when Tony somehow melts against him even more. “I’ve seen you stumblin’ around yelling math at people when you don’t get your caffeine. Way too much responsibility for me.”

Tony shifts enough to finally look up at him with a pout, even though the effect is kind of ruined by the fact that he still looks on the edge of falling asleep, his eyes half lidded. Bucky's chest gives a dangerous clench.

“Unfair,” Tony says, and Bucky was right to be suspicious of the hint of teasing lurking behind Tony’s expression, because the next thing he says is “I totally saw you almost fall down the satis because you were arguing with that bird that one time, and I still like you.”

“I can’t believe you saw that,” Bucky groans miserably, ad has to fight down his smile when he feels Tony shaking with laughter against him. “That bird he totally had it coming, for the record,” he adds, because talking shit about asshole pigeons is definitely the safer option here. Asking Tony if he means it while they’re both half asleep maybe isn’t the best plan. That’s probably a morning type question. Assuming Bucky even remembers this. And doesn’t chicken out.

“I’m sure he did,” Tony says, patting at his stomach and dropping his head to Bucky’s shoulder again with a yawn.

The end credits have finished rolling and looped back to the DVD menu, Tony is heavy against him, and that’s probably the sign Bucky should kick himself out of Tony’s temporary bed and go get in his own instead. No matter how reluctant he is to lose the warmth of Tony against him.

“Okay, time for bed,” Bucky says, leaning forward just enough to grab the remote and get everything turned off. Once the room has been plunged into darkness, Tony still doesn’t move, and Bucky wonders if he should just... tip him the other direction. There’s still plenty of space that way considering they’re crowded up against one of the arms of the couch, but that still seems rude. Finally he settles for gently pointing out “Tony, you have t’move so I can get up.”

Tony makes an unhappy whining sound, tightening his arm around Bucky and pressing his face deeper into the curve of Bucky's neck. Bucky fights down a smile, gives him a little nudge, and Tony clings tighter, finally grumbling out “mine.”

“We’re not both going to fit on this couch,” Bucky points out, as reasonably as he can considering the way his heart is trying to jump up into his throat. When Tony just makes another slurred noise of complaint, fingers tangling into the fabric of Bucky’s shirt, Bucky decides maybe it’s time to take another whack at that ‘not thinking’ thing. And he certainly knows what he wants to do. So he turns sideways, gets his arms looped securely around Tony, and then stands up.

“Wha?” Tony asks, still not lifting his head even as he shifts to wrap his arms around Bucky's shoulders instead.

“Bed time,” Bucky says again, then easily carries Tony into his room and tumbles them both in to bed with a creak of the old frame.