"No," Bucky said that too quick and too frustrated, then winced. He put the plate back down, scrubbing his right hand over his face. "No, sorry, I'm not ... that's not what I meant. I will, honest. I meant ... I don't mind. Being near you. I wasn't looking for alone."
Bucky hesitated a long moment, shoulders hunching and arms crossing over his chest. It looked defensive, but to people who knew how to read - it was just unsure. "I-" he stopped, mouth twisting, then started again. "I know you're fine, and you don't want me telling you how to feel. So I'm not gonna do that, or assume I know stuff. But yesterday was a shitty day. You had a shitty morning, and you did something you didn't have to do for me in the middle of all of it. Even let me take your bed afterward. I'm not trying to get away from you. I'd kind of like to ... make the rest of your morning less shitty. But I don't think I'm doing that. So that's why I said I'd ... go. Not because I don't want to hang around you and talk about sex books. Because I don't want you to hang around me if it would make you feel better to be alone. If that's ... what you need? You knew what I needed. I'm not as great at figuring it out with you." Bucky stopped making a noise. "Not that you're like me. I know you don't need someone to keep you from going nuts the same way I do. I just ..." Bucky shrugged. "I don't know."
He half smiled. "I made the mess, I'll clean it up. I made your bed, too, but didn't know where your machine was if you want the sheets washed or something. Didn't do anything to dirty 'em up but lay on 'em, promise," Bucky added, trying to joke, if weakly.