"Snuggle"

The first time the Avengers noticed it was during a film. It'd been a hectic day, probably worse than any battle they'd faced together: a press conference, at Fury and Pepper's insistence. Phil had worked harder than any of them behind the scenes, and yet he volunteered to stay up for movie night. He was settled in an armchair, playing with a tassel. As the evening wore on, he pulled the cushion close until he was cuddling it, drifting into a light doze. Or not so light, considering that none of the explosions in the climax of the film managed to wake him. It took Clint poking him for Phil to stir.

"Mmm?"

"Time for bed, Coulson," he said.

"Okay," Phil mumbled, stretching. He tucked the cushion back into place, seemingly unaware that he was doing it, and stood up. He wished them goodnight, and then headed off for bed, missing their looks of combined shock and curiosity.

It was a pattern they quickly noticed. After returning from a solo mission, Phil was writing up his report – which he wouldn't let any of them see, despite (or perhaps because of) their habitual nosiness – when his eyelids began to droop. He curled up in his corner of the couch, trying to focus both on the news and his paperwork, but being awake for nearly forty hours straight was taking its toll.

"How're you holding up?" Steve asked, glancing at Phil. Their handler mumbled something, and he shifted in place, tightening his grip on the folder in his arms. The angle he was curled up in had to be uncomfortable, but… it was kind of riveting, seeing Phil cuddle his paperwork. The tired half-smile on his lips was endearing, and slowly the lines of tiredness smoothed out as he fell into a deep sleep.

Tony and Bruce, being scientists, enjoyed testing theories. Unfortunately, they had difficulty in deciding which one should sit beside Phil first.

"I don't like people touching my chest," Tony said. "Or touching me at all, really."

"Neither do I," Bruce said. "And I'm not sure how the Big Guy would react."

"Don't you think some positive touch could settle him down? It's not like your heart would start racing just being hugged by Coulson."

"Can you guarantee that?"

In the end, scientific curiosity won out. Next time they'd had a busy day, they all settled back in the tower after undergoing thorough medical examinations. Tony put on a Disney movie, one of the longer ones, and Bruce shyly asked if he could sit beside Phil.

"Of course," Phil said, wide-eyed and smiling. "I'll try not to fall asleep on you."

"I don't mind," Bruce said, although he eyed Tony while he said this. Phil took up one end of the two-seater lounge, and Bruce the other one. He waited awhile. They were about twenty minutes in when Bruce noticed that Phil was beginning to list to one side. He reached around, grabbed the pillow – surprising Phil – and placed it on his shoulder. Phil raised an eyebrow.

"Uh…"

"Doctor's orders," Bruce whispered. "You're less likely to hurt your neck or back. Come on." He patted the cushion, and waited, heart beating a little too fast. Phil stared at him for a moment. Then, with a tired quirk of the lips, he rested his head on Bruce's shoulder, and returned to watching the film. The others had watched this, some more surreptitiously than others. Tony shot Bruce a not-terribly-subtle thumbs-up.

Approximately halfway through the movie, Phil shuffled. He lifted his head, tossed the cushion aside – nearly hitting Thor's leg – and instead wrapped his arm around Bruce's middle. He nuzzled Bruce's shoulder, and dropped off to sleep easily. Bruce calmed his breathing, taken aback by this unexpected development. The more he tried to ignore the octopus-like hold, the more he thought about it. It wasn't too tight, and Phil was warmer than Bruce had imagined. His left arm was trapped, but not uncomfortable, and Bruce's other arm was free. Tentatively, he rested his head atop Phil's, and could almost feel his heartbeats slow as he relaxed.

Maybe next time he'd wind his trapped arm around Phil's waist. Just to be a bit more comfortable.

(He resisted the urge to smirk when he perceived the looks of jealousy being directed his way.)

"So, you cuddle," Tony said over breakfast a couple of weeks later. Phil wasn't paying attention, his attention divided between coffee and crossword. "Agent?"

"Hmm?"

"I said 'So, you cuddle'."

"Mmm-hmm." Phil arched an eyebrow, only meeting Tony's eyes briefly as the others chuckled. "Problem?"

"Why would there be a problem?"

"This is why I prefer to sit by myself," Phil said, and he filled in another couple of answers. "I'll return to an armchair in the future. Make it less awkward for everyone involved."

"What? No! No, no. Uh, you don't have to sit by yourself." The other Avengers swiftly agreed.

Phil smiled wryly. "It's not something I'm unaccustomed to," he said. He filled in the last few letters of the crossword. "Stark, I know that some of you aren't all that fond of… physical contact, which is why I am careful." He drained the rest of his coffee as he stood up. "It's no bother to me. You… you didn't look me in the eye for a couple of days after I woke up curled around you last week." Now Phil was the one to look away, under the pretence of rinsing out his mug. He slid the crockery into the dishwasher.

"Wait," Tony said, and he hurried to block Phil from leaving the kitchen. "Hold it right there. This is… this is your home, too. You can sit wherever you want. I don't mind. None of us… we don't mind."

Phil studied him, and then the others. He nodded, and left without a word.

They were more careful about mentioning it after that, especially when Phil had taken to sitting by himself during the evening until they coaxed him back to the sofas. It was nice, at the end of a difficult day, to be able to coerce Phil into sitting with them. It was harder to do it without him noticing the way they jostled each other to get to him first. But there were times when one of them indisputably needed a sleep-hug.

For example, significant anniversaries, such as the loss of a loved one. More specific instances, such as Steve hitting a particularly nasty dead end when searching for Bucky, or someone from Clint's past turning up, or whenever old footage of the New York battle cropped up and Loki was the focus… Needless to say, there were times when the others backed down.

It wasn't just the Avengers who ended up in Phil's arms.

Sam usually wanted to be available for anyone who needed him; but when he finally had a night off, he stayed in one of the guest rooms at the tower. He was there before the others, and Phil was recovering from a fractured ankle. Sam joined him in watching trashy reality TV shows, unaware of how drowsy Phil's medication made him. It wasn't until a pressure on his right arm that Sam realised Phil was falling asleep. When he shifted in place, Phil frowned, muttered something belligerent, and clasped his arms around Sam. Bemused, Sam stayed where he was, and continued to watch the television until the others arrived.

"Lucky," Maria remarked, an amused twist to her lips. "Phil gives the best hugs."

Other witting – and unwitting – victims included Pepper and Rhodey, Darcy and Selvig, and a few SHIELD agents who apparently missed his cuddles. After the Avengers realised that that was the real reason for visits from other agents, they guarded Phil jealously, and pined any time Phil was on a mission without them.

If Phil had his suspicions, he never mentioned them. And if he automatically drifted towards the sofa now, rather than aiming for an armchair first, nobody said anything.

Bucky was still confined to Stark Tower for another month. He'd been introduced to Phil, who was busy dealing with the resulting paperwork, and generally going straight to bed as soon as he came home. The others were getting used to Bucky, and movie nights had been reluctantly put on hold for the time being.

The Avengers were eventually forced to attend a charity gala, which Phil had skilfully avoided by claiming work. Fury sent him home early, where he found Bucky sitting in front of a mirror, glaring balefully. Phil moved into his line of sight cautiously. When Bucky only nodded at him, Phil knew it was safe to move closer.

"Is there something wrong, James?" he asked. He was careful not to use Steve's nickname for Barnes, and preferred to humanise him as much as possible by using his first name rather than surname. Not that they'd had much interaction so far; he was hoping to use this time to change that.

"I can't cover up enough," Bucky said, scowling at his image again. Phil moved behind him.

"Why would you want to cover up?" he asked. He had some idea, but wanted to hear the words.

"Because I'm a monster," Bucky muttered, averting his gaze from Phil's. Phil paused, then pulled out his phone. He searched for something on the internet, and then smiled.

"The Oxford English Dictionary online says that 'monster' originally meant 'a mythical creature which is part animal and part human, or combines elements of two or more animal forms, and is frequently of great size and ferocious appearance.' Well." He tilted Bucky's chin up to force him to look. "That's already inaccurate. The human species is part of the animal kingdom, so we're technically already animals. You are, in fact, fully human, metal limbs aside." That tugged a bitter smile from Bucky. "Great size and… what was it, uh, ferocious appearance? Well, I'm sorry to say this, but nobody could be considered tall when they stand next to Thor."

"And ferocious appearance?" Bucky asked, more curious than cynical.

"You've gotten rid of the eye makeup, which has helped, I'll admit," Phil continued. "But looking you in the face? Not really all that scary. Just smile for me." Bucky raised the corners of his lips. "Okay, we can work on that. But you really don't look ferocious unless you're trying for that. And I happen to know for a fact that several people think you look less fierce and more broody. A good thing. Broody… is very Mr. Darcy. Who doesn't like Mr. Darcy?"

"Elizabeth Bennett."

"Only at first. Now, let me see." He consulted his phone again. "It goes on. 'Later, more generally: any imaginary creature that is large, ugly, and frightening'." Bucky ducked his head, and Phil's heart clenched. "If that's the definition of a monster, then you're definitely not a monster. One, you're not imaginary. As we've ascertained, Thor is basically the tallest person of our acquaintance, and you're slim. You're a very handsome man, and you're not a frightening person. You're only frightening when you have to be."

"You think I'm handsome?" Bucky said. He met Phil's eyes again, and then looked down. "I can't remember… I've seen pictures, but I'm not him."

"Do you want to be him, or just look like him?" Bucky didn't reply. "James?

"I… I don't know."

Phil squeezed his left shoulder. "I don't think you're a monster. And I'm not an authority on the man you used to be. But everyone changes. I'm sure Rogers is different to how you remember him."

"What I remember of him."

"Exactly. We've all been through trauma and come out on the other side… not exactly better for it, but stronger, and altered. Unfortunately, truth isn't the first casualty of war; that would be idealism and innocence." He tucked his phone away. "James… would you like a hair cut? If you trust me with a pair of scissors, I'm pretty sure I could do a decent job. It can't be all that hard, can it?"

Bucky chewed his lower lip, staring at his hair in the reflection. Phil waited patiently.

"In front of this," Bucky finally said, gesturing to the mirror. "So I watch."

"My thoughts exactly. Thank you. I'm sure you'll find it easier to manage."

"Could you… help me wash it first?"

"…There's a mirror in my bathroom."

When the Avengers stumbled into the living area for a drink before bedtime – and to see whether Phil happened to be watching TV – they saw that the screen was on but the sound turned down. Phil was definitely there, pressed against someone else. Steve inhaled sharply, and was the first to round the sofa and see who else was there.

It was Bucky, of course, his flesh arm around Phil's upper back. Phil was snuggled into his side, nose tucked into the still-damp neck and probably tickling a few stray hairs Bucky hadn't been able to rub off. Bucky either hadn't been asleep, or he'd woken up the minute they walked into the room. He raised his head, watching Steve.

"He feels soft," Bucky explained. "And warm."

Steve nodded. "Your hair?"

"Phil did it. He took care of me."

At the rate they were going, Tony made an executive decision. He had the furniture moved to the sides, and heaped piles of pillows, cushions, and blankets in the middle of the floor of the TV room. He'd had the room furnished especially for the growing number of residents at Stark Tower, for their collective movie and TV nights. After all, they had decades of television shows to catch up on, too.

When he showed everyone the room, there were some protests. They were swiftly put to rest when Phil moved past, and settled himself in the middle. Bucky, who now spent half his time trailing Steve and half his time trailing Phil, immediately perched on a cushion beside him. The others followed his example, quickly arranging themselves around Phil.

"You could've just asked," he commented softly.

"That would be too obvious," Steve said, rolling his eyes. But he snuggled up behind Bucky, who was getting more comfortable with such touches.

They were all getting more comfortable with each other, in fact. And, as they settled down for another marathon, it was from that night forward that they would learn to ask for affection, and not just catch it where they could.

So flipping saccharine. But then, this is me.

Prompt is from page 27, round 25. It asked for Phil to be one of those people who cuddles the nearest object (or person) while sleeping, leading to sneaky!Avengers conveniently sitting beside him whenever he's tired. I considered doing a 5+1, but then thought 'Nah', and wrote this instead. Curses. I accidentally wrote slashy subtext between Bruce/Phil and Bucky/Phil. (Two of my favourite obscure OTPs.)

Moving on! Hope, as always, that you enjoyed it. I'll probably edit a few times before posting, to add more cuddling and less slashy subtext. Hmm.