For all that Harvey's tiny, the cat feels like he weighs as much as a sack of bricks when he jumps onto Steve's bed in the mornings. Steve might be a little biased in his judgment, but it's really the cat's fault. If he didn't land on Steve's gut and knock the wind out of him every time he jumped up Steve'd be a lot more forgiving.

Even as it is, Steve can never bring himself to be angry for long. Not with the way the kitten immediately curls up on the center of his chest and purrs loud enough to wake the entire block.

It's hard not to give into that, even if it means Steve inevitably gets woken up in the wee hours of the morning when Harvey decides it's time to begin snuggling.

As far as he can tell, Harvey doesn't do this to Bucky and Steve takes a strange pride in being the kitten's chosen resting place.

Steve's therefore confused when he wakes up one morning at half past five without the kitten plodding around on his sheets. For all that it's annoying to be dragged awake so early, Steve's actually grown accustomed to his new bedmate.

It takes a minute of sleepy investigation to spot the twitching curtains and Steve hauls himself from bed with a quiet, "Harvey, bud, what are you doing there?" like the cat's going to answer him somehow.

He's actually surprised when the kitten chirps and pokes his head back through the curtains. Steve's surveyed by bright gold eyes for a moment before the cat retreats back to the window, the tip of his tail all that's left visible.

Steve crosses the room and peeks through the curtain himself.

Harvey stands on his back paws as the front press to the window glass. His eyes, reflected in the window, are huge.

Big, fat flakes of snow drift down from the sky, the first of the season, and Steve can't help but grin. Harvey is completely enraptured as he watches the flakes glitter and sparkle in the moonlight, barely even moves when Steve scratches between his ears.

He chuckles when the kitten meows and paws at the window. Laughs a little louder when those big eyes are turned on him once again as if to ask "Why isn't that in here so I can play with it?"

"Come on, cat," Steve murmurs after a few more moments watching the snow, carefully picking Harvey up and cradling him against his chest. "I know your first snow's exciting, but it's late, and I gotta sleep so I don't fall asleep at work tomorrow."

The kitten mews as Steve carries him over to the bed but doesn't leave when he's placed down. He waits until Steve's back under the covers to curl up by Steve's shoulder. Harvey's tail twitches against Steve's neck for maybe five minutes before the kitten goes still; tiny snores fill the room soon after and Steve settles himself further beneath the blankets and smiles.

Harvey wakes him up by sitting on Steve's throat and rubbing his face all over Steve's chin an hour later.