"Hmm," Steve accepts, his head lolling over to the side. He's not even sure what he's agreeing to but it doesn't really matter. Bucky is here and, in dreams, things get better when that happens. Sometimes they even used to go to baseball games. Real ones without players with steroids and having a screen on every wall to show what's happening on the field. Steve never thought he'd miss being too short to see the outfield.
"My shuttle 's over there," he seems to remember, pointing vaguely in a direction that leads toward the docks. " 's it bad to fly drunk? Like driving?"
He squints over at Bucky and seems to have enough neurons firing at once to have an actually helpful idea. "There's an art studio. Down that way. I own it so...I can sleep it off there."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-01-31 04:31 pm (UTC)"My shuttle 's over there," he seems to remember, pointing vaguely in a direction that leads toward the docks. " 's it bad to fly drunk? Like driving?"
He squints over at Bucky and seems to have enough neurons firing at once to have an actually helpful idea. "There's an art studio. Down that way. I own it so...I can sleep it off there."