He let out a sigh of relief as he finally got the door open, tucking his keys back in his pocket, before taking a look around the cluttered mess that was Steve’s apartment. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, shutting the door quietly behind him just in case Steve was sleeping which was a very real possibility despite it four in the afternoon. The floor was covered in old white sheets, buckets and bottles of paint, palettes; canvasses of varying sizes were leaned up against or stacked on top of every surface possible, sketchbooks filled two bookshelves with some being stacked in front of or on top of said bookshelves; copy paper, crayons, oil pastels, markers, colored pencils, pencils, pens, and sharpies were scattered haphazardly across the floor, and if he didn’t know exactly how Steve was, he probably would have died.
Bucky picked his way over to the closed bedroom door, pushing it open to find Steve with a comforter hanging from his shoulders, a pencil in one hand and his sketchbook resting in his lap. On the nightstand beside him sat a pile of granola wrappers and empty water bottles scattered the floor.
As soon as he flipped on the overhead light, Steve looked up from his drawing, a bit stunned.
“When is the last time you ate a good meal? Or even slept for more than four hours? Hell, when is the last time you fucking showered because you smell awful,” he stated, tugging the comforter off of the smaller man.
“What’s today?”
Fucking Christ. “Go get in the shower and I’ll fix us something to eat, okay?” He took the sketchbook and pencil from him, sitting it near the end of the bed, “I love you,” he whispered quietly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“I think I have some Ramen in the pantry,” the blond said, tugging off his t-shirt as he walked towards the connected bathroom. “But you’re welcome to anything you can find,” he said as he shut the bathroom door though the door was yanked open just as quickly as it was shut. “You know what, just order Chinese. I’m pretty sure I have some fliers in one of the kitchen drawers. Also, my wallet is on the counter.” With that, the door was slammed shut.
