relenafanel:

So I wrote the thing. I am equally as surprised as you are

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Bucky checked the time once he emerged from the shower.  Steve’s ETA was still over an hour out, so he
took a second to text him the brain emoticon to remind Steve to use his head and
not get himself into any more trouble before reaching the Wakanda border.  As if that would work. Steve never listened to
warnings not to do something if he’d made up his own damn mind, whether Bucky
was standing right next to him or not.

He wandered into his kitchen for a drink, water from his hair dripping down
his back.

Bucky’s apartment in Wakanda was on the edge of the city, close to the fields
he worked as part of his rehabilitation. The intention had been to keep him
away from needless stressors, until Shuri had found him staring in wonder at
the items in her lab, and the hallways leading out of her lab, and the city’s
urban planning, and had realized that always being in open fields might be
detrimental to his recovery.  Bucky loved
everything, from the open windows with the forcefields that kept insects out to
the water recycler that didn’t waste natural resources.

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