“I’m gonna take a shower. Do you care to join me?” you ask casually, pausing in the doorway with a mischievous smile, letting the words hang just long enough to see his reaction.

Bucky looks up from the book in his hands, tilting his head slightly, that familiar half-amused, half-serious look settling on his face. “Honey, do you know there’s a gun in the footlocker in the garage?”

Your eyebrows lift, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh?” you reply, stepping a little closer, letting the heat of the moment press between you.

“If I ever say no to that question,” he continues, deadpan and utterly serious, “I want you to use it on me.”

You shake your head, laughing softly, the words tumbling out before you can stop yourself. “Then I’ll take that as a yes, huh?”

Bucky smirks, tossing the book aside as he stands, his metal arm catching the light for a split second. He takes a slow step toward you, the weight of his presence pressing in, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, “I’d say that’s a yes.”