"Wow, I haven't thought about her in eighty years. That's probably why she things that way," Bucky said. He'd be the first to admit he was not the greatest when it came to his dating life back then, though there were plenty of reasons for that. None of them justified him kind of being a dick about dating any women long term though in his defense he'd never really given any false pretenses of settling down either. There'd just been a lot of dames who thought they could tame the cad of Brooklyn. Really, there'd only been one person who could've done that back then. Times, they had changed. There was one man in Starklandia who'd done it and his name was Clinton Francis Barton.
Bucky wanted to stay. He wanted to stay where he was, live his quiet (but also chaotic in the best way) life with Clint while knowing his best friend was close, happy and thriving nearby. He didn't want any of that to change or go away. Bucky understood that worry down to his core. The slightest change and all of this would go to hell with devastating consequences. This place was their only shot. Bucky was going to hold onto it as tightly as he could, for as long as he could.
His arms slid easily around Steve's narrow waist and he held on. No matter the context of their relationship, Steve would always feel like home, like a grounding force that kept him centered. He exhaled slowly. "It's never gonna end for us," he said back, just as quietly, into Steve's shoulder. "Whatever happens."