[ He holds onto Steve's hand, holds it between both of his as though he means to keep it. Steve doesn't need to go anywhere, he can just stay there right beside the couch, next to Bucky, soft and affectionate and warm, giving him kisses to let him know that everything's okay, that it's perfectly all right for Bucky to come in and fall asleep on his couch if he wants to. In return Bucky presses sleepy kisses to his fingers, one after the other, and rests his cheek against them. He feels softened by sleep and by the good warm feeling of being in Steve's apartment, the hard edges of him blurred, vulnerable but entirely safe. ]

Nothing happened. The cats haven't been around for a while. Gets lonely there. [ That's more than he meant to admit. He doesn't want Steve to worry about him being alone, about him falling into bleak moods, spending his days curled up still and silent or waking from nightmares without anyone there to catch him. There isn't a lot of that now. Bucky's doing better. ] I'm okay, Steve. Just wanted to be near you for a while.

[ He rubs his lover's wrist, looking up at him with concern. ] Are you all right?