Steve 

Bucky was sprawled out on his stomach, fast asleep on our bed. His wings were lazily unfolded and one was propped against the wall. His face was relaxed and peaceful with his mouth open slightly. The shirtless man was incredibly beautiful in a very masculine way.

I had been on T for almost a year now and you can tell I'm turning more like a guy in terms of face shape and voice and body hair, not that I mind. I found out that I have magic two weeks ago and now I'm practicing getting it stronger. So far I can move small objects, about the size of a pencil pouch.

I painted my sleeping boyfriend, smiling in amusement and humming a Russian lullaby that I often heard Bucky hum to himself at night when he needed to sleep but couldn't. Bucky loved to speak Russian and could be found slipping into another language on accident because that was his format of speech.

My phone dinged, waking Bucky up. He propped himself on his arms, squinting at me, before allowing himself to collapse on the bed again when he saw what I was doing.

I checked my phone.

Nat: hey

Nat: wut r u doing right now?

Me: im doing a painting of bucky being asleep 

Nat: ooh. sounds fun.

Me: u woke him up.

Nat: oops. sorry, boi. ill leave u alone.

"Was that Nat?" whispered Bucky.

"Yeah. Stay still. I'm almost done."