You fumbled with the keys, laughing at your own inability to hit the lock. After a few tries, the door finally swung open, and you stumbled inside, the faint buzz of alcohol making the room sway a little. Bucky was sitting on the couch, a concerned look on his face as he saw you.

"You’re late," he said, his voice a mix of worry and irritation.

You waved your hand dismissively, kicking off your shoes with little grace. "I had a little too much fun tonight," you slurred, a giggle escaping your lips.

Bucky stood up, his frown deepening. "You should have called me. I would’ve come to get you."

You staggered towards him, your movements loose and uncoordinated. "But I’m here now," you said, your voice softening as you got closer. "And you look so… so… serious." You poked his chest playfully, then let out another laugh.

Before he could say anything else, you grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your level, and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. It was uncoordinated, a little too hard, and tasted faintly of the drinks you’d had earlier. But it was full of affection, your drunken state making you bolder than usual.

Bucky stiffened for a second, surprised by your sudden action, but then he relaxed, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. He kissed you back gently, mindful of your tipsy state.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him with a lopsided grin. "I missed you," you mumbled, leaning your head against his chest.

He sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You’re a handful, you know that?"

You nodded sleepily, your eyes already starting to close as the exhaustion of the night caught up with you. "But you love me anyway," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper now.

Bucky held you close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I do."