Asking how he was would've probably just gotten them both a bit of a stare. He definitely didn't want to answer that. He wouldn't have taken offense to it, he just figured it was pretty obvious that he wasn't okay right now. He wasn't putting up any false pretenses other than that he probably wasn't going to ever go into detail about what had happened. He wasn't hiding that he was broken right now though. Bucky just didn't have it in him, even if he was pretty masterful at the art of stoicism. He trusted them both enough to let them in enough. The question didn't need to be posed. No, he was not okay, but he was semi-functioning enough that they probably didn't need to worry about him going off the deep end.
There was one thing that he'd sort of been figuring out in his time alone, and it was something that concerned the both of them. Natasha's fingers resting on his wrist and the way Clint was taking the edge off his mood in a way only Clint Barton could do really drove that thought home. Now just wasn't the time to talk about it. Really, he wasn't sure when or if there even was a right time to actually go there, so for now he'd keep it to himself and try to figure it out a little more. Right now; Dick Cake.
Bucky listened, and really it was funny to hear them talking about it. He wished he had been there to see all of the action taking place around it, but it was absolutely for the best that he hadn't been. "The best part," he mused aloud. "What is that, the underside?" He was trying. One step forward after about a hundred steps back was something.