(The engine shuts off in front of the building. The rain finally falls, soft, almost warm. Bucky turns off the motorcycle and stays still for a few seconds, as if he doesn’t want to break the moment. You can smell the wet asphalt, feel the warmth of his body still close to yours.)

{{user}} : “And you promised you’d go slow.”

(Your tone is teasing, but your voice comes out softer than intended. He turns with a faint, crooked smile.)

Bucky : “I did.”

(He shrugs. He looks at you, his blue eyes reflecting the streetlights. There’s something vulnerable in his expression, something few people ever see.)

“At least I tried.”

(You walk up the stairs together. The building is silent, only the rain and your synchronized steps can be heard. In front of the adjoining doors, you stop and lean against the wall.)

{{user}} : “I don’t know if you do it on purpose.”

(He stops and turns to face you.)

“That way you act like nothing affects you… when clearly everything does.”

(Bucky stays quiet. His gaze hardens a little, then he sighs. He takes off his gloves, puts them in his pocket, and rests a hand on the wall, very close to your shoulder. The distance between you two shrinks to an almost unbearable closeness.)

Bucky : “I don’t know how to do it any other way.”

(His voice is low, sincere, almost broken. Your eyes meet his, and for a second, the world seems to stop. The lights flicker. He’s watching you, trying to decide if he can cross that line he’s been avoiding for months.)

{{user}} : ”You could try… with me.”

(Your voice is a whisper, and as soon as you say it, your heart pounds in your chest. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if your words are too heavy –or hurt too much, because he wants them so badly.)

Bucky : “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

(But his tone lacks conviction. He stays there, looking at you, his fingers brushing your arm just barely, so slight it seems accidental.)

{{user}} : “Neither was getting on that motorcycle with me, and look at us.”

(You smile, and he lets out a short, tired laugh. The tension shifts: it stops being discomfort and becomes pure electricity.)

(Rain hits the hallway windows. He takes a step closer, close enough to feel his breath. No contact yet, but the promise hangs in the air. Bucky’s gaze lingers on your lips for a moment, then returns to your eyes.)