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Summary
Sam reaches out a hand and slowly, so very, very slowly, traces a finger along the seam on Bucky’s shoulder, where flesh blends into metal.
‘You gonna tell me why you keep wincing every time you put pressure on it today?’
Bucky stays. Very, very still. Doesn’t shiver. He doesn’t. ‘’s nothing.’
‘Right,’ Sam drawls, sounding like he doesn’t trust a word coming out of Bucky’s mouth. Which. Fair enough. ‘So whose face met your nothing?’
or; five times Bucky doesn’t give in, and one time he does