Steve was obviously taken by surprise at Marie's kiss; he glanced over at her with raised eyebrows, causing Bucky to roll his eyes good-naturedly. Bucky looked over at Marie, inviting her in on the joke as he said, "Trust me, Stevie's real good at worryin'."
"Don' call me that," Steve responded in a tone that said it was a well-used phrase, "an' like yer any diff'rent. Always tellin' me when I should eat, when I should sleep--"
"You don't do nearly enough of either," Bucky interrupted.
His plan to keep Steve's mind on other things seemed to work on the walk back to the apartment, the two of them bantering and bickering in their own easy rhythm the entire way. It was once they were back inside that Steve grew quiet, and Bucky didn't quite want to break the atmosphere with jokes or bickering. This was still Sarah's domain to them both, and probably would be for a while yet. Her absence had been easier to ignore before - she was often working before she'd grown ill, so it had just felt like she was temporarily out. Now an expectant hush seemed to fall over the apartment, wondering when she would return, constantly reminded that she never would, now.
"How ya feelin'? Bucky asked softly, trying to be casual. "You need somethin' ta eat? Or just sleep?"
"Don't think I could sleep," Steve muttered, but heaved a sigh known to parents of small children the world over; he was fighting exhaustion, and Bucky recognized it.
"Yeah, well, might as well get changed. Lay down for a bit at least." Steve waved him off, but headed obediently toward his room to change.
Watching until the door closed, Bucky took Marie's hand and drew her over to the couch. "We'll wait for a few minutes and I'll check on him. He'll prob'bly be out like a light, though." He didn't bother to lower his voice too much; he knew Steve's hearing was poor, and making noise wouldn't be much of a problem.
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"Don' call me that," Steve responded in a tone that said it was a well-used phrase, "an' like yer any diff'rent. Always tellin' me when I should eat, when I should sleep--"
"You don't do nearly enough of either," Bucky interrupted.
His plan to keep Steve's mind on other things seemed to work on the walk back to the apartment, the two of them bantering and bickering in their own easy rhythm the entire way. It was once they were back inside that Steve grew quiet, and Bucky didn't quite want to break the atmosphere with jokes or bickering. This was still Sarah's domain to them both, and probably would be for a while yet. Her absence had been easier to ignore before - she was often working before she'd grown ill, so it had just felt like she was temporarily out. Now an expectant hush seemed to fall over the apartment, wondering when she would return, constantly reminded that she never would, now.
"How ya feelin'? Bucky asked softly, trying to be casual. "You need somethin' ta eat? Or just sleep?"
"Don't think I could sleep," Steve muttered, but heaved a sigh known to parents of small children the world over; he was fighting exhaustion, and Bucky recognized it.
"Yeah, well, might as well get changed. Lay down for a bit at least." Steve waved him off, but headed obediently toward his room to change.
Watching until the door closed, Bucky took Marie's hand and drew her over to the couch. "We'll wait for a few minutes and I'll check on him. He'll prob'bly be out like a light, though." He didn't bother to lower his voice too much; he knew Steve's hearing was poor, and making noise wouldn't be much of a problem.