The night air was warm as the three of you left the recruitment office, Steve walking with his head slightly down, his hands shoved into his pockets. Another “thanks but no thanks” from the army, another rejection that he pretended didn’t sting.

“You know,” Bucky said, glancing at Steve with a grin that was both teasing and comforting, “you keep this up and they’re gonna start recognizing your face, pal. Might as well hand out your picture with the ‘do not enlist’ sign.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Real funny, Buck.”

You walked quietly beside them, your steps in sync with Bucky’s. He glanced at you, his grin softening in a way that made your cheeks warm. You weren’t used to the way his attention lingered, like you were something he didn’t quite know how to look away from.

As Steve muttered under his breath about the unfairness of the system, Bucky brushed his hand against yours. It could have been an accident, but then he did it again, slower this time, his fingers grazing yours. You looked at him sharply, and he gave you that boyish smirk that always seemed to get him out of trouble.

“Come on, Stevie,” Bucky said, his voice light but with something unspoken behind it, “you can’t expect me not to notice she’s the prettiest girl in Brooklyn.”

Steve stopped walking and turned to glare at him. “That’s my sister, Buck.”

“Yeah, and what a shock that someone in the Rogers family turned out good-looking.” Bucky winked at you, completely unbothered by Steve’s glare.