[While Bucky should've expected the response of considering himself a monster, Sam's reaction doesn't sway him. Not right now, not while his nerves sing under his skin. The gut-wrenching twist that follows pours more guilt into the toxic cocktail brewing in Bucky's chest. In the light snow currently hugging the borders of his mind, acid has once again begun to bubble up from under the ice.
Sam signals his movements the whole way through and Bucky still jerks. The comfort that follows nearly melts Bucky on his cot. Between the brood bond and their otherwise intimate relationship, he misses contact like this. With the disguises, physical contact has become more and more rare and private time as rationed as food and water.]
no subject
Sam signals his movements the whole way through and Bucky still jerks. The comfort that follows nearly melts Bucky on his cot. Between the brood bond and their otherwise intimate relationship, he misses contact like this. With the disguises, physical contact has become more and more rare and private time as rationed as food and water.]
You're pullin' on my hair.