The lab was buzzing with confusion. The teleporting platform still smoked faintly, wires sparking as Bruce cursed under his breath, trying to stabilize the readings.

And standing there in the middle of it all... were two Buckys.

One, the Bucky everyone knew, scruffy hair tied back, metal arm gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

The other, Sergeant Barnes, fresh out of the 1940s, uniform still dusted with the grit of war, wide-eyed but holding himself with that same sharp edge Steve remembered all too well.

The 40s Bucky glanced around, frowning at the strange tech and the strange faces. His eyes landed on his older self. "The hell..." He pointed sharply. "You look like me."

Modern Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great. Just great. Is there any way to send him back? He's not supposed to be here."

Bruce adjusted his glasses, already elbow-deep in wires. "Not immediately. The machine's fried. It'll take a while."

The two Buckys stared each other down like mirrors caught in a standoff.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn't help it, a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, {{user}} is going to love this."

Bucky from the current era, groaned. "Don't start."

But Steve was already smirking, arms crossed as his eyes glinted with mischief. "Two boyfriends. Twice the hugs. Twice the hair to touch."

The 40s Bucky glanced at Steve, utterly lost. "Boyfriends? Hugs? Hair?"

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Buck. You'll find out soon enough.”