( it's good, for the most part. they keep going, they actually manage to catch something, nothing seems to escalate much beyond the sound of a record player and the occasional smell of Lucky Strikes he swears he catches once in a while. he doesn't even mind the weather so much, not enough to sour his mood, anyway. enough for him to uncomfortably maneuver around beside Steve to strip off his leather tac vest. can't tell if it's sweat or humidity making his shirt stick to him underneath it.
knees up, hair in wet spikes that stick straight up in places where he's run his fingers through it. he takes the canteen easily. drinks easier. settles in with their bodies flush from shoulder to thigh.
there's companionable quiet for a while, one that Bucky slightly breaks by side-eyeing Steve's profile and humming out a soft sound of humor in the back of his throat. a muted laugh, easy to miss if it weren't for the way it gently jolts his ribs and slightly jostles the man next to him.
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knees up, hair in wet spikes that stick straight up in places where he's run his fingers through it. he takes the canteen easily. drinks easier. settles in with their bodies flush from shoulder to thigh.
there's companionable quiet for a while, one that Bucky slightly breaks by side-eyeing Steve's profile and humming out a soft sound of humor in the back of his throat. a muted laugh, easy to miss if it weren't for the way it gently jolts his ribs and slightly jostles the man next to him.
whatever he's thinking about, apparently it's amusing. )