"I honestly don't want to know," Steve said, but he was smiling even as he shook his head. He knew Clint tended toward goofiness, and Bucky'd always had a dumb sense of humor, but silliness had been in very short supply over the last few years - over the last few weeks in particular - and Steve felt a warm happiness bubble up in his chest, a feeling so uncomplicatedly good that he wasn't sure if it was down to the drink or the sight of two of his favorite people smiling and laughing, no weight pressing down on their shoulders.
He leaned easily into the casual scritch of Clint's hand, offering him a lazy grin as he turned his head to look at him. "I'm pretty good, I guess," he said, only a little surprised to realize how much he meant it. Dinner with Peggy had gone very well, after all, and it was always nice to be back in Eight once more. Clint's horrible tribute party was over, and revolution-related things were coming together - there was still plenty going on that was hard or terrible or sad, but overall Steve was good. It was nice to be able to say that and know it was a truth.
Moo rumbled a ridiculous-sounding purr, then leapt from Steve's chest without warning, launching herself at the hand Bucky had been using to gesture with. She proceeded to gnaw on his thumb as soon as she had it pinned between her paws, and Steve burst out laughing. "Think she might be hunting you, Buck," he managed to say, words fading into a chuckle. "She does know you're not food, right? Can't imagine you'd taste any good." He reached over and curved his hand to the back of Bucky's neck as he said it, offering him a gentle squeeze. Trust Bucky to get a kitten and immediately become its chew toy. The furry little creature had no idea how lucky she was to end up with someone as caring as Bucky, who'd no doubt let her get away with whatever chomping she wanted to do. Bucky'd never been any good at saying no to scrappy, troublesome creatures, and Steve could already tell Moo wasn't going to be an exception.