"Don't you." Bucky sounds unconvinced, although of course, he hopes it's true. Sure, getting drunk is fine, and he's got nothing against it. But you definitely can't do that every night. Steve definitely never did, even if he's been his fair share of roaring drunk and Bucky's been the same. So, "Don't look at me. I have a room - somewhere." Because learning his way around is still definitely a thing he's doing - but he's good with layouts, and he's not entirely new to being - well, new. It's happened before. He'll adapt.
But anything else he might have been about to say is immediately overshadowed by the way Steve grabs him, the look on his face - and the way he realizes, looking at Steve's face...
"Hey. I might not be your Bucky," he says, softly - because he's not, how can he be? Steve's Bucky is dead - and Bucky's Steve is dead. This is a different Steve, but still so much the same, and - "but I don't think there's rules." He smiles; it's a little sad, a little tight, but that's just him trying to hold himself together. For Steve. Because that's how it works. Bucky doesn't fall apart, because Steve needs him not to. It's always been that way. He thinks it must have been for this Steve's Bucky, too.
"I missed you, too," he breathes out, letting himself say it, because Steve deserves to hear it, quiet though the words are. They're sincere. "The whole world missed you," he adds, but leaves and all they got was me, instead out of it.
And still, even while that's true, "I like to think I'm still in first place, though."
He fucking missed Steve more than anyone else. Even Peggy.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-02-01 05:12 am (UTC)But anything else he might have been about to say is immediately overshadowed by the way Steve grabs him, the look on his face - and the way he realizes, looking at Steve's face...
"Hey. I might not be your Bucky," he says, softly - because he's not, how can he be? Steve's Bucky is dead - and Bucky's Steve is dead. This is a different Steve, but still so much the same, and - "but I don't think there's rules." He smiles; it's a little sad, a little tight, but that's just him trying to hold himself together. For Steve. Because that's how it works. Bucky doesn't fall apart, because Steve needs him not to. It's always been that way. He thinks it must have been for this Steve's Bucky, too.
"I missed you, too," he breathes out, letting himself say it, because Steve deserves to hear it, quiet though the words are. They're sincere. "The whole world missed you," he adds, but leaves and all they got was me, instead out of it.
And still, even while that's true, "I like to think I'm still in first place, though."
He fucking missed Steve more than anyone else. Even Peggy.