Zemo painted such an interesting and incredibly vivid picture of his wife that Bucky could envision her so easily. Carl, she'd insisted on. Was it a family name? A dear friend? Did it mean something significant in her language? Perhaps it was the name of her favorite author. It sounded like she had lofty expectations for their kid but even Bucky had to admit that they could have gone with something else. There was a certain charm in its simplicity though. "It's a good name," Bucky insisted after a quiet and careful while. "If he was anything like you, I'm sure he made that name his own." For however long he had it.
He could agree that maybe there were some parts of Zemo that only he got to see. "Sweet is definitely not something I would have used to describe you before Madripoor, that's for damn sure. But now?" Bucky knocked the back of his knuckles into Zemo's knee as he passed him, grinning. "Now it's almost the first thing that comes to mind when I think of you. But I promise I won't tell. I'd hate to damage your reputation."
Oh, he'd caught the first innuendo but the second? It was a little more subtle. Bucky had given him a sly look at first. Maybe let his fingers stay on Zemo's knee for a few seconds longer before tucking them away into his hand. "Another surprise," was the only small comment Zemo got. Because as obvious as what he said was, Bucky knew where things would go if he entertained that cheeky look.
And that was a bad thing?
"You want sugar?" Dark eyes dropped for a beat down to other man's lips. Just a flicker before meeting his gaze again. "Show me how much you want," Bucky insisted innocently. He gestured toward the table where Zemo kept his hot kettle, then made his way over. Like they were still talking about coffee right now.