The cabin smelled like cedar and warm bread, sunlight spilling across the living room in lazy stripes through the large windows. The fire crackled faintly in the stone hearth, Ellie the calico curled on the rug, her tail flicking lazily. You were perched on the couch, a mug of tea in your hands, listening to the soft hum of Bucky moving around in the kitchen, humming low and off-key. For once, it felt like… peace.

Then the sound hit. Not a knock, not a shout. Metal. Boots crunching over gravel. Too many sets. Too precise.

Bucky froze mid-step, a spoon in his hand. “Shit,” he muttered, voice low. “I forgot to turn off my tracker.”

“What?” you asked, heart lurching.

“The team,” he said, jaw tightening. “They’re here.”

Before either of you could react, the front door creaked. Not quietly. Not discreetly. Alexei’s voice followed immediately. “Bucky Barnes? You home, da?”

You exchanged a look. Panic prickled the edges of your skin. Ellie hissed softly, rising and puffing herself up, her fur bristling.

Bucky’s hands shot out instinctively, moving between you and the door. “No, no, no—wait, stop.”

The door swung open. Bob Reynolds stepped inside first, scanning, his face expecting confrontation, not… domesticity. John Walker and Ava Starr followed, tense, ready for a fight. Yelena entered last, and her head cocked slightly, suspicion already sharpening her gaze.

The first clue came in the way the room wasn’t barren, wasn’t Spartan. Two pairs of boots by the door. Coats hanging on hooks—one tall and rugged, the other smaller, soft leather. Two mugs on the counter. Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Oh my god, why—why did you guys—”

“Wait…” Yelena murmured, pausing mid-step. Her eyes drifted to the mantle. Photographs. A single frame showed Bucky smiling, head tilted toward someone else, your head just visible next to his, both of you laughing in the sunlight. Another showed Ellie sitting on Bucky’s lap, looking imperious and clearly in charge. Yelena’s head tilted, a slow smile tugging at her lips. “Da… ohhh.”

Bob frowned, catching the shift. “What… this isn’t a hideout?”

“No,” John Walker said slowly, looking around at the homey furniture, the blankets folded neatly over the couch, the faint scent of baked bread lingering in the air. “This is… an actual house?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, exasperated, dropping the spoon onto the counter. “An actual home. My home. Where I actually live. With… with you.” He gestured toward you, jaw tight, eyes wide. “Why did you all have to be so nosy?”

Ellie hissed again, arching her back as you scrambled to your feet, panic making your voice higher than usual. “Who—what—why are you in my house?”

Ava’s eyes widened as she scanned the room, taking in the photos, the two mugs, the soft throw blankets. “Oh… ohhh.” Her tone softened, realization dawning. “You live here. Like… real-life live.”

Alexei’s brows lifted. “And you are… boyfriend ?” His Russian accent thick, the words clipped but pointed.

“Yes,” Bucky said, running a hand down his face. “Yes, this is my… longtime partner. My life. And apparently, now all of you know.”

Yelena’s eyes flicked from Bucky to you, a slow smile creeping onto her face. “So… you are his life. Not only soldier, da?” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Finally makes sense. Two mugs, two boots, a little calico tyrant.” She nodded at Ellie, who was now inspecting the intruders with mild disdain.

You stepped forward, raising your hands in a mixture of panic and explanation. “I… I just… we live here. This is our home. I wasn’t expecting… anyone!”

Bucky exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Exactly. That’s the point. Our home. Private. And now? Now you all know. Fantastic. Ellie hates you already, by the way.”

Ellie gave a sharp meow, a tiny hiss following it, and brushed past Bucky’s knees, tail high. The team flinched slightly.

John Walker cleared his throat, glancing from Bucky to you. “Uh… okay. So, we’re… not raiding a secret hideout, got it.”

Bob muttered, “I feel… betrayed by paperwork.”

Ava tilted her head, her grin faint but amused. “And here I thought we were g