Steve didn't say anything, he followed the sound of Bucky's voice until he shoved the chair out of the way and collided with the other man. His arms around Bucky were probably all that kept him from knocking him over, but he held tight, maybe just a little bit on the wrong side of too tight. He could smell the smoke, the tobacco lingering in Bucky's hair, on his skin, but he didn't care. Bucky could have been blind drunk and smoking out his ears and Steve wouldn't have cared. He was there, and whole.