He still has that taste in his mouth, but it was pretty funny, he has to admit. The glee on Sam's face...
That... is not the reaction of a man who has just learned that someone he cares about isn't dead any more. Well. It is, but there's more to it. There's more to everything, Steve's finding.
At least Sam's here to lead the way. Steve makes mental notes about everything, and his eyebrows climb basically up off his face when he sees the two beds pushed together. That might not mean anything romantic or sexual at all, Steve tells himself, trying to be fair and not jump to conclusions. Bucky has more than his fair share of trauma, and maybe sleeping next to someone is helping him (heck, Sam has been through enough, himself).
But it wouldn't be a terrible conclusion to jump to, right? Especially if he himself is leaving them. Not that they'd be second best for each other - he's not quite that egotistical - but it's... it's nice, in a tearingly painful way, to think that they've had each other to deal with all the pain they've each been through, which includes losing him.
He doesn't miss the suit, but Sam doesn't seem to want to address that or the bed right now, so Steve'll let both go for the moment.
Steve roams around the room while Sam's gone. Careful not to open any drawers, not to get into anything that's obviously too personal for public view. He just picks up a couple holo-photo-frames, whatever they're called, and a couple knicknacks.
"That really could be worse," he agrees. "You doing okay? Need food or anything? I always seem to be turning up on your doorstep when you have other things to do."
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He still has that taste in his mouth, but it was pretty funny, he has to admit. The glee on Sam's face...
That... is not the reaction of a man who has just learned that someone he cares about isn't dead any more. Well. It is, but there's more to it. There's more to everything, Steve's finding.
At least Sam's here to lead the way. Steve makes mental notes about everything, and his eyebrows climb basically up off his face when he sees the two beds pushed together. That might not mean anything romantic or sexual at all, Steve tells himself, trying to be fair and not jump to conclusions. Bucky has more than his fair share of trauma, and maybe sleeping next to someone is helping him (heck, Sam has been through enough, himself).
But it wouldn't be a terrible conclusion to jump to, right? Especially if he himself is leaving them. Not that they'd be second best for each other - he's not quite that egotistical - but it's... it's nice, in a tearingly painful way, to think that they've had each other to deal with all the pain they've each been through, which includes losing him.
He doesn't miss the suit, but Sam doesn't seem to want to address that or the bed right now, so Steve'll let both go for the moment.
Steve roams around the room while Sam's gone. Careful not to open any drawers, not to get into anything that's obviously too personal for public view. He just picks up a couple holo-photo-frames, whatever they're called, and a couple knicknacks.
"That really could be worse," he agrees. "You doing okay? Need food or anything? I always seem to be turning up on your doorstep when you have other things to do."