Work Text:
Bucky grimaced. The bottoms of his shoes made a sickening sound every time he peeled them off of the sticky theater floor. When he suggested they go see a movie, this was not what he had in mind.
“This place is disgusting,” he griped.
“You’re right,” Steve replied.
“And a movie about a stingray tsunami? It’s gonna suck.”
Steve dug his fingers in the box of popcorn on Bucky’s lap. “You’re right,” he said, licking his salty fingers slowly, one-by-one.
Bucky’s eyes focused on Steve’s mouth. “You don’t care about the movie.”
“You’re right.”
Steve's lips tasted like popcorn butter.