Bucky and you had been friends for years now. You knew that he hated his birthday and he didn’t want to celebrate it. But you still wanted to show him that this day was important to you, because he was important to you. You got the keys for his little apartment in Brooklyn from Steve and snuck in early in the morning. You hung up a few birthday garlands and placed candles on the table, together with the cake you’ve baked for him. You also prepared a nice breakfast, while wearing headphones to not disturb him.

But Bucky was a trained assassin. He never had a deep sleep. He woke up while you were in the middle of cooking pancakes, sneaking in the kitchen. You weren’t a trained assassin, so you didn’t notice him standing in the door, his arms crossed over his chest, a tired grin on his lips as he watched you.

Finally, after a few minutes, you looked up and dropped the pan, which crashed on the countertop. Bucky laughed at the fact that he had scared you so easily and walked over to you. “What is this supposed to be?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “You shouldn’t be awake already, I’m not done yet!” You protested as you grabbed the pan and inspected the pancake inside. Then you put it away and sighed. “Happy Birthday, old man.” You said with a warm smile.

Buckys heart pounded in his chest. He had no idea how to deal with the feelings he suddenly felt. He didn’t remember the last time he woke up to an actual birthday breakfast… it was probably when he was 11, almost a hundred years ago. “Did you make all this?” He asked, shaking his head with a grin as he walked towards the set table.

“Sam wasn’t a big help if that’s what you’re asking.” You said as you followed him, placing the pancakes on the table. “But if you’re already awake, you can blow out the candles.” You pushed the cake with the birthday candles on it to him. “Is that a Plum cake?” Bucky asked, looking at you. You nodded. And his heart melted.