"Think they like me having mystery now," Bucky said. "So fuck it, everyone can know every single thing about me then. All the dumb, human crap." Stupid middle names and that he had a kitten now, named after a cow. That he stole books and loved coffee and used to like to dance.
Wait, he had a kitten for now. He was giving her back. He really should. She was so damn little. Bucky would. Just later.
It was weird maybe - but Bucky had laughed more lately than he had in years. He'd dropped lower than he had in a while too, but he'd had more of this - laughing and being a little happy, even without the drug. Maybe it was being more engaged with people, however fucked up it got. (And he was never fucking telling Sam he was right about that, if so.) Maybe it was having made it up with Steve - however screwed up that was. Or maybe he'd just remembered how this part of himself worked. It was nice. The lows still blew, but laughing over cute cows and stupid porn - it wasn't so bad. Bucky didn't know if it was worth the bullshit of the rest yet - but it was something.
It was the worst kind of dumbass conversation to have - talking about the guy that had sent him into a panic spiral the other night. But Bucky wasn't there now, and somehow it was just fucking funny. He blinked and then started to laugh again. "Holy fuck, you too? Hell, you'd think the guy could get a date on his own," Bucky said, snickering. "It was the worst thing. I kept looking at it and thinking it was gonna move. Or make a noise. What the fuck makes you want a giant BIRD watching when you're screwing?" He laughed and amended. "Poodle bird."