Dr. Raynor’s office in the Stark Tower was too quiet, too still. Bucky sat on the couch, arms folded, jaw tense. He hated therapy—needed it, but hated it. Mostly because she always saw right through him.

Today was no different.

She watched him over her glasses. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

Bucky sighed. “I’m not sleeping.”

“That’s not new,” she said gently. “What is?”

He hesitated. His fingers twitched against the seam of his jeans. Then—he gave in.

“There’s someone.”

That got her attention.

Dr. Raynor didn’t react, but her pen paused. “Alright. Go on.”

“We’ve been… seeing each other. Kind of.” He looked away. “Sleeping together, actually.”

Her brows lifted slightly. “A relationship?”

“No.” He swallowed. “It’s not… like that.”

Her silence invited him to fill the space.

“It’s just physical. Friends. With benefits.” The words tasted bitter. “We agreed to keep it casual.”

Dr. Raynor leaned back. “And do you want it to be casual?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Yeah. I mean—it’s easier that way. I’ve got too much going on. Too much… past.”

“Do you actually believe that?” she asked. “Or is that what you’re telling yourself to keep her at a distance?”

He blinked, like the thought hadn’t quite formed in him until now. “I don’t want to ruin it. She’s… bright. She makes me laugh. She doesn’t flinch when I touch her. I think about her all the damn time.”

“You care about her.”

He didn’t answer.

“Bucky,” she said gently. “You’ve fought wars for people you barely knew. Don’t you think it’s worth fighting for someone you actually want to hold onto?”

He sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his own fear pressing into his chest. “If she knew how much I feel… it might scare her away.”

Dr. Raynor leaned forward. “Or it might be the very thing she’s waiting to hear.”

She tapped the end of her pen against her notepad. “You said it’s physical… but that means a lot of things. Tell me more about the dynamic between you two.”

Bucky let out a breath, eyes down. “It’s… intense. I take the lead, mostly. She likes that. I do too. I need control sometimes, and she—she gives it to me.”

“And is that something you’ve talked about? Or something that just evolved between you?”

“A little of both,” he admitted. “It’s not about hurting each other or pushing limits. It’s about trust. I know how to read her. When to push, when to stop. She’s always safe with me.”

Raynor nodded thoughtfully. “And does that kind of connection stay in the bedroom?”

He paused. “Sometimes it bleeds over. I catch myself being possessive. Protective. Like she’s already mine, even if we’ve never said it.”

“And how does she respond to that?”

Bucky’s throat worked. “She leans into it. Every time. Like she’s waiting for me to stop pretending this is just physical.”

Dr. Raynor set the notebook down. “Bucky… control can be comforting, especially for someone with a past like yours. But letting someone love you? Letting yourself want love—that’s the kind of risk that scares people like us the most.”

He looked up at her, eyes clouded but sharper than before.

“I think you already know,” she said, “that this is more than just rough sex and casual nights. You’re afraid because for the first time in a long time, you want to be seen.”

He exhaled, shoulders heavy. “Yeah,” he murmured. “And she sees all of me.”

“Then maybe it’s time to stop hiding from her,” she said softly. “And from yourself.”