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    Summary

    It was a standing rule that Steve did not cook. Everything he touched in a kitchen seemed to turn into a disaster, and with Bucky having such an affinity for it, it had been easy to agree to relinquish any culinary responsibility to him. Besides, Bucky now had everything organised the way he liked, an elaborate system that Steve didn’t even try to get his head around. The only thing he knew for certain was that Bucky had ensured there were plenty of supplies to hand should Steve break a rule in the vicinity of the kitchen. More than once he’d cursed the out-on-show wooden spoon, sitting innocuously in a jar of other cooking utensils, wishing he could hide the damn thing. Or better yet, toss it out the window. He’d consider it if it wouldn’t come back to literally bite him in the ass.

    But. Steve was not allowed to cook. Make cereal? Fine. Maybe even some toast? Sure. Use Bucky’s oven? Definitely not.

    -

    Spanktember 2024 Day 22: Good intentions

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