It’s six o'clock in the morning and they’re supposed to meet Sam at seven-thirty. The camera from Tony is sitting on the nightstand, its memory card still blank. Steve grabs it, props himself up on an elbow and hits record.
“Up and at ‘em, Barnes. You’re burning daylight,” Steve says and Bucky immediately stirs. He scrubs a hand over his face and cracks open an eye, lashes fluttering.
“What the hell are you doing?” He grumbles in this gentle, mock angry, Bucky kind of way. He hides his face in his pillow.
“Documenting,” Steve says mildly, “Come on, you’re supposed to smile.”
Bucky looks at him again, one eyebrow cocked as a lazy smile spreads across his lips. He rolls over on his back and threads his fingers through his ruffled hair, which only encourages it to stick out at more odd angles. Something tightens in Steve’s chest, but in a good way.
“What now?” Bucky asks when Steve doesn’t say anything, the camera in his hand almost forgotten.
“I don’t know. Do something interesting,” Steve says and tries not to grin.
“Interesting, huh?” Bucky asks, voice still gravelly with sleep, “I’ll give you interesting, Captain.”