In another life, Bucky wouldn't worry about his own safety. For a long time, he hadn't, but the doctors have been working with him on that and even beyond learning to value himself a little more, he's working through a lot of his own fears and anxieties. He doesn't like fighting because it's too easy to give into training that he's fought to deprogram himself from. It's too easy to charge in and risk life and limb for a mission. In some ways, he can worse than Steve if he really lets himself fall into that headspace.

Now, he's worried. He's worried about himself and he's worried about Steve and how the two of them are so wrapped up in each other that it can't really be healthy for either of them in the long run, but for now Steve is like a lifeline to him, anchoring him into reality and a life where Bucky Barnes can be more than just a soldier.

"Not my safety I was worried about, you fucking jerk." He rests his head on Steve's shoulder and tries not to think too much about that kiss on his cheek and how easy it would be to turn his head and kiss Steve for real. Even now, he knows what a bad idea that would be. If he gives in now, he's just going to drag Steve down more.

He shifts again so he can settle in between Steve's legs on the floor, the bulk of his weight against Steve's chest and God, Steve looks and smells like shit and Bucky loves him for it, because he's here and he's alive and he's so undeniably Steve Rogers that it hurts.