He didn't remember much from before, from when they were just two fellas making a living, if he couldn't remember ever being touched in a good way. Sure, there'd been plenty of dames back then, but there'd also been plenty of good times between the two of them, arms slung around one another as they walked. Bucky'd always let Steve set the pace, followed his lead so his lungs wouldn't burn too bad by the time they got wherever they were going. After all the fights they ever got in, Bucky stepping in to finish what Steve never could for himself, there'd be plenty of checking to see just how bad the injuries were and patching up what they could, however they could. That wasn't even taking into consideration all the times Bucky kept watch over him while he was sick, holding his hand cause they were both scared for him to fall asleep, just in case he didn't wake up again. When the weather turned, got so cold even the heat and blankets they had weren't enough, they'd curl up together, Bucky wrapping himself around Steve, acting as a barrier between him and the drafty window and a source of warmth. They'd always started with Steve's back to Bucky's chest, but there were a couple times there, as they'd gotten older, where they'd woken up front to front.
Now wasn't the time to think about that, not with Bucky shrugging off his hand.
"I'm sorry," Steve apologized sincerely, holding both of his hands up to indicate he wasn't going to touch him again. "I understand. I won't touch you again, not unless you say I can." That was a promise Steve knew would be hard, but it would be worth it. He'd gone this long without physically leaning on Bucky. He could survive a while longer.
"Can I walk with you? For a little while? We don't have to talk or anything. I just- It's real good, seeing your ugly mug in person again." He tried for levity, but it was pretty obvious he'd failed spectacularly. Steve had to stop himself from offering to simply follow, since there was a very good chance Bucky didn't want him at his back, anyway. The metal arm, the whirring and noises, didn't bother him. It was weird on Bucky, but it was a part of him now. Steve knew he had no right to dictate anything. The most he could do is offer support and hope to God above that Bucky wouldn't be too stubborn for too long.
He dropped his hands, sliding them easily into the pockets of his brown leather jacket. He wasn't so good at being alone - never had been, since he'd never been alone until Bucky deployed - so he'd probably just go bother Stark and Ms Potts if Bucky pushed him away. He wished Sam was there, to provide advice, but there was no sense hoping for things that weren't. He'd make the best of it, same as they'd always done.