It was a strange thing that men did, Natasha had found over the years, it was a move even Clint had pulled plenty of times himself. It was a thing that women generally did more subtly - more like planting a seed and letting it grow. The bluntness of it, that was the province of men: they would tell you, very specifically, what it was they wanted, and then tack "if you'd want that" onto the end, in order to make it seem like it was your idea and not a clear articulation of how they wanted to proceed.
It almost made her feel a little fond of him, in a strange way. For all he thought there wasn't much left about him that was normal, she could have reassured him that this one thing, at least, was very much in alignment with how other men of his ages tended to behave when they were uncomfortable.
She took another bite, chewed slowly to give him a moment to let his suggestion settle. "Of course," she said. "I'm sorry, I should have offered that when Steve left, I should have realized." Natasha smiled at him, one of her prettier smiles, and drained the last few sips from her mug. "You go hang out wherever you're comfortable, Bucky, please. I'll do the dishes. Thank you for cooking."