Steve's face doesn't change. He's not even sure he's blinking or breathing right now as he listens without hearing to this ghost from his past. He talks the same. Looks almost the same. Steve reaches out a hand and rests it against Bucky's bicep to see that, yeah. He feels the same, too.

"Bucky...?"

Steve isn't stupid. He knows that this isn't the one that has been here, before. The one from earlier in his own timeline that won't even send him a text, let alone talk to him like this. His Bucky doesn't know him. And, even if he did, there is no way the conversation would have the ease this one is having.

There is no way he would look at him the way this man is.

"Bucky," he says more firmly, his hand clawing into the fabric like holding onto a lifeline. "God...Oh my God..." And that's about all he can manage before he pulls forward, intending to hug his friend tight.

If only his stomach wouldn't have chosen that moment to protest, of course. It roils hard and Steve has just enough time to turn away and push at Bucky before he's throwing up against the floor.

Perfect first meeting.