The sauna was quiet, the heat wrapping around the both of you like a heavy blanket, beads of sweat glistening on your skin. The low hum of the steam made the room feel suspended in time, soft and still.

Bucky leaned back against the cedar wall, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, eyes half-lidded in rare, unguarded calm. The ever-present tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away in the haze of warmth.

“I still can’t believe you agreed to this,” you murmured after a long silence, your voice light but edged with amusement.

One corner of his mouth tugged up into a smirk. “You’re impossible to say no to. Besides…” his gaze slid to you, deliberate, “…it’s not so bad.”

You shifted closer, the wood creaking under you as your thigh brushed against his. His metal arm glinted faintly in the low light where it rested beside him, droplets of steam sliding down its polished surface.

He didn’t move away.

In fact, he tilted his head slightly, watching you through the rising mist. His voice was quieter now, softer in the thick warmth, but it carried that weight only he could put into simple words.

“You know…” his lips curved faintly as his blue eyes met yours, “this heat’s nothing compared to how you make me feel.”

You blinked at him, your lips twitching as you fought back a smile. “Was that a line, Barnes?”

He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and rich, and leaned in just enough for you to catch the warmth of him even through the steam.

“Maybe,” he admitted, grin deepening, “but it’s true.”