[ the painkillers and alcohol eventually sweep her away, with yelena slowly drifting off and going under, while bucky stays awake. restless, then, he concludes — but he thumbs the remote and turns the volume even lower, until it fades further into the background. the room is dark except for the faint glowing screen of the television, and the white noise of conversation and studio laughter is oddly hypnotic.
when yelena's hand clutches at his shirt, he eventually glances over and down at her, considering. after a moment, the man reaches over her and tugs carefully at the blankets, dragging them up to tuck her in.
thankfully, she's on his right-hand side; bucky was careful about which side of the bed he took, for this very reason, and this means she has a warm flesh-and-blood shoulder to lean into rather than cold vibranium. he exhales. and keeps watching tv, as the night whiles on and while she dozes beside him. a couple more episodes of friends go by. when the programming block changes, he's finally getting drowsy, and hesitates on choosing whether or not to turn it off completely. he likes having the tv on in the background while he sleeps — for the noise, the voices, this place is too quiet even with the traffic outside — but with someone here, maybe it'll be different.
while he's still mulling over that, and before he knows it, he's dozed off himself. so. not the restless insomnia version of the night: instead, bucky falls asleep with yelena grasping at his shirt. he starts off on his side of the bed, on his back, fingers interlaced over his stomach and staring contemplatively up at the ceiling.
this position does not last. miracle of miracles, he doesn't toss and turn as much as usual — maybe it's his body instinctively trying not to disrupt the other body in the bed with him — but he does shift here and there over the course of the night. it's warmer than bucky's used to, thanks to the body heat of someone else on the mattress, plus the fact that he's wearing a shirt and pj pants, when normally he's dressed in almost nothing for bed and he runs warm anyway. so he eventually kicks the blankets off his half of the bed in his sleep, but thankfully doesn't actually wake. he stays unconscious. doesn't wake up in a cold clammy sweat, chased by nightmares.
by morning, he's on his side and has unconsciously burrowed closer: vibranium arm propped under the pillow, right arm slung over yelena's midriff, his face buried between her shoulderblades and in her hair, warm and comfortable, and he doesn't even realise. ]
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when yelena's hand clutches at his shirt, he eventually glances over and down at her, considering. after a moment, the man reaches over her and tugs carefully at the blankets, dragging them up to tuck her in.
thankfully, she's on his right-hand side; bucky was careful about which side of the bed he took, for this very reason, and this means she has a warm flesh-and-blood shoulder to lean into rather than cold vibranium. he exhales. and keeps watching tv, as the night whiles on and while she dozes beside him. a couple more episodes of friends go by. when the programming block changes, he's finally getting drowsy, and hesitates on choosing whether or not to turn it off completely. he likes having the tv on in the background while he sleeps — for the noise, the voices, this place is too quiet even with the traffic outside — but with someone here, maybe it'll be different.
while he's still mulling over that, and before he knows it, he's dozed off himself. so. not the restless insomnia version of the night: instead, bucky falls asleep with yelena grasping at his shirt. he starts off on his side of the bed, on his back, fingers interlaced over his stomach and staring contemplatively up at the ceiling.
this position does not last. miracle of miracles, he doesn't toss and turn as much as usual — maybe it's his body instinctively trying not to disrupt the other body in the bed with him — but he does shift here and there over the course of the night. it's warmer than bucky's used to, thanks to the body heat of someone else on the mattress, plus the fact that he's wearing a shirt and pj pants, when normally he's dressed in almost nothing for bed and he runs warm anyway. so he eventually kicks the blankets off his half of the bed in his sleep, but thankfully doesn't actually wake. he stays unconscious. doesn't wake up in a cold clammy sweat, chased by nightmares.
by morning, he's on his side and has unconsciously burrowed closer: vibranium arm propped under the pillow, right arm slung over yelena's midriff, his face buried between her shoulderblades and in her hair, warm and comfortable, and he doesn't even realise. ]