The sunlight in the living room was way too bright. Your head rested against the back of the couch, eyes half-closed, muscles sore in the very specific way that reminded you exactly how last night went.

Yelena had come back from her mission after three long, miserable weeks apart. You didn’t even make it past the front door before she was kissing you. Everything else… well. The walls definitely didn’t help.

Now, the morning after, you were trying so hard to look normal.

You held a mug of coffee with both hands, pretending to read something on your tablet even though the words were basically swimming.

Footsteps approached. Heavy ones.

Great.

Bucky walked in, hair still damp from the shower, a towel around his neck. He took one look at you—

Then slowly… s l o w l y… raised one eyebrow.

You froze.

He didn’t say a word. Just that look. That “I heard everything through the damn vents” look.

Your face warmed instantly. You cleared your throat. “Morning.”

“Mhm.” Bucky’s voice rumbled, way too amused.

He poured himself coffee. Said nothing. Just kept smirking.

When Yelena walked in, stretching with that smug little smile she always had after a good night, Bucky didn’t even hide it.

“Well,” he said casually, leaning on the counter. “Walls here are pretty thin.”

Yelena blinked. “What?”

Then Bucky tilted his head toward you. And raised the same eyebrow.

Understanding hit her like a truck.

Her face went red — then she glared at him like she was about to throw the coffee pot.

“You dare,” she hissed.

Bucky only shrugged. “Just saying. Maybe next time close the vent.”

You slumped lower on the couch. “I want to disappear.”

Yelena marched past him, grabbed your wrist, and muttered, “You didn’t hear anything, Barnes.”

“Didn’t have to,” he called back.