"I feel like that's a compliment," Steve admits softly, knowing that smile is probably mostly a front, but hey. He'll take whatever he can get.
It's not like he's happy knowing that if he takes a hike or gets sent away or whatever, he'll never see this man - these men? - again, either.
It is still a little weird, watching the transition. Maybe it would've been easier with someone he knew less well, but - well. This is a face he's always known better than his own. Or, at least, he had.
"I won't," he says, soft but firm, because he won't. Goddammit, he's let his own Bucky down enough. Too many times. Once is too many times. He won't pretend there's not a roiling, twisting ball of guilt and self-loathing in place of his gut, every time he thinks about it. "But I'm here now. So let me do what I can here now, for you. Before it's too late."
He doesn't even know how to leave, if he wanted to. And he doesn't want to. Not yet, at the very least. "I guess we probably should call off work." If there's still work to call off of. "No reason we can't patrol instead, right?"
no subject
It's not like he's happy knowing that if he takes a hike or gets sent away or whatever, he'll never see this man - these men? - again, either.
It is still a little weird, watching the transition. Maybe it would've been easier with someone he knew less well, but - well. This is a face he's always known better than his own. Or, at least, he had.
"I won't," he says, soft but firm, because he won't. Goddammit, he's let his own Bucky down enough. Too many times. Once is too many times. He won't pretend there's not a roiling, twisting ball of guilt and self-loathing in place of his gut, every time he thinks about it. "But I'm here now. So let me do what I can here now, for you. Before it's too late."
He doesn't even know how to leave, if he wanted to. And he doesn't want to. Not yet, at the very least. "I guess we probably should call off work." If there's still work to call off of. "No reason we can't patrol instead, right?"