When Bucky buzzed Steve into the building nearly ninety minutes later, he was admittedly kind of drunk. He'd finished off all his vodka in a bid to stay calm, otherwise he'd start worrying over his appearance.
He had managed to change into halfway decent clothes, wash his face and brush his teeth.
That was as good as he could manage at short notice.
He waited anxiously by the door, as Clint was still asleep in his room so he wanted to cut down on any extra noise.
Bucky's nerves were starting to burn through the alcohol, which sucked. He'd hoped to stay warm and tipsy for a while longer yet.
When he heard footsteps approach, Bucky opened the door. Steve stepped into view and gave him a shy smile.
He looked tired, like he hadn't slept. Bucky beckoned him inside, noticed the take-out
