When you were as old as they were you could see life was a series of choices. It was mistakes made and things selected and life was what you made it. Their future had been in the 50's, it didn't belong here, because here there was Tony and Clint and sometimes just looking at Tony could knock the wind right out of Steve's lungs. That was his future and he'd missed out once, he wasn't going to miss out again. But being young again and running hand and hand with his best friend, it had been nice for a moment, to revisit the innocence of that. But he was glad they were back in the bodies and the ages that they belonged in.
He'd spoken with Tony, the little one, about his plan and then when that was in motion Steve knew he needed to talk to Bucky too. Not because he had to, to soften a blow or whatever, nothing like that. But because this was big and exciting and something he wanted to share with his oldest friend.
Steve had been out the back, hanging one of the new punching bags for a little change of location when he heard Bucky calling. "Out here, Buck," he called back toward the door that stood ajar. "Starting you think you stood me up."