Title: Breakfast In Bed
Fandom: Captain America (Movieverse)
Pairing: Sam/Steve
Rating: PG-13
Length: 357 words
Content Notes: Set after Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
Summary: The most important meal of the day.


Steve doesn’t sleep all that much - a couple of hours seem more than enough for him. Sam’s an early riser, but Steve’s usually up long before him. So Sam’s gotten used to waking to an empty bed, gotten used to finding Steve in the lounge hunched over his laptop, caught in a breadcrumb trail of random Wikipedia links, or already stretching for their morning jog.

Then there are Sundays, which are the designated day for lazy mornings and lie-ins. Sometimes Steve is still in bed when Sam rouses, quietly reading a book or scrolling through his phone, catching up on e-mail.

And sometimes he’s not, and Sam gets to wake up to the smell of bacon.

“You know, I could get used to this,” he grins, spearing another piece of pancake on to his fork. “The whole breakfast-in-bed thing. Why don’t I get this more often?”

Steve just smiles, shakes his head. He’s sat cross-legged on the mattress, the tray balanced between them, plates overloaded with pancakes and French toast and syrup. “You wouldn’t want to eat all this before we go jogging, right?”

Which is a good point, of course. Sometimes Sam crams a protein bar before they head out, but breakfast proper is reserved for after exercise.

“Maybe I should give up on jogging,” he shrugs, settling back against the pillows. “Have you cook me a feast every morning while I lounge in bed.”

Steve licks powdered sugar off his thumb, an exasperated smile on his face. “You’d be climbing the walls within a week,” he points out, and then he’s shuffling closer, pulling off his t-shirt, dropping his hands to brace them against Sam’s knees. “How about I give you a different kind of feast instead?”

Sam laughs, spreading his legs so Steve can settle between them. “See, from anyone else, that line would be embarrassingly bad. But you pull it off. Don’t ask me how, it just works for you.”

“Must be my natural charm,” Steve offers, eyes teasing, before ducking down to press his face between Sam’s thighs.

They end up getting syrup all over the bed, but Sam’s not complaining.