[The comment about head injuries get a sort of amused snort from Bucky, because, well.]
Yeah, you'd know. [Steve's probably lucky he's got a functional brain at all, considering all the blows to the head he's taken over the years.
Bucky's just happy he's able to bounce back more quickly than he used to.
And he does scoot over a little to make room, because he's used to Steve pulling this and he knows that it had worked a little better when Steve was a lot smaller. Now Steve just takes up more room in the first place, and Bucky doesn't want him falling out of the bed or anything, and Steve's a stubborn pain in the ass about far more trivial things, so it's a weird little dance routine they find themselves caught up in, most of the time.
But he doesn't go far, partially because it really fucking hurts to move at all, and maybe because he doesn't really mind being kind of crammed close anyway. They've done this a million times before, as kids, teenagers, young adults, after Steve had sprung him from the factory and when they'd been stuck out in the middle of nowhere Belgium in some shitty, half flooded foxhole, so this is fine. Comfortable, familiar, all of that.
(Just don't go elbowing him in the ribs by accident, that probably won't end well tonight.)
Bucky shifts a little so he can comfortably look at Steve from where he's lying, biting the inside of his cheek to stop from grunting in pain when he does so, but then he settles in more or less for good.]
Sorry I'm not great company these days. [It's half a joke, because it's not like it's a secret as to why he's not been his usual sunny self.
Spam
Yeah, you'd know. [Steve's probably lucky he's got a functional brain at all, considering all the blows to the head he's taken over the years.
Bucky's just happy he's able to bounce back more quickly than he used to.
And he does scoot over a little to make room, because he's used to Steve pulling this and he knows that it had worked a little better when Steve was a lot smaller. Now Steve just takes up more room in the first place, and Bucky doesn't want him falling out of the bed or anything, and Steve's a stubborn pain in the ass about far more trivial things, so it's a weird little dance routine they find themselves caught up in, most of the time.
But he doesn't go far, partially because it really fucking hurts to move at all, and maybe because he doesn't really mind being kind of crammed close anyway. They've done this a million times before, as kids, teenagers, young adults, after Steve had sprung him from the factory and when they'd been stuck out in the middle of nowhere Belgium in some shitty, half flooded foxhole, so this is fine. Comfortable, familiar, all of that.
(Just don't go elbowing him in the ribs by accident, that probably won't end well tonight.)
Bucky shifts a little so he can comfortably look at Steve from where he's lying, biting the inside of his cheek to stop from grunting in pain when he does so, but then he settles in more or less for good.]
Sorry I'm not great company these days. [It's half a joke, because it's not like it's a secret as to why he's not been his usual sunny self.
Sort of.]