Bruce was a little surprised when Bucky knocked on his door of his apartment in Stark Tower, but he invited him in and started a new pot of tea.
"Did you need something specific, of did you just want to talk?" Bruce asked as he poured the tea, lifting the pot high into the air as he poured.
"A little bit of both." Bucky paused. "I guess I just had enough of people looking at me like I'm about to turn into the winter soldier. You don't, why?"
"Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"About to turn into the winter soldier."
"No."
"Then I don't see the point of addressing you as such."
Bucky looked at the cup of tea in his hands and nodded.
"Besides, I get those looks too." Bruce added. "No one ever argues with me. Ever. While you and Steve went on that last mission, Nat and Clint got into an argument over what to watch. They were shouting at each other. Then I walked in and suggested Sherlock. They both shut up and watched it. Not one objection."
"How dose it feel, transforming into the Hulk?"
"Well, it hurts a lot. It starts as a headache as my amygdala, the part of the brain that makes negative emotions, expands. Then most of my brain powers down, not functional, but aware. My frontal cortex, or the logic center, is about as useful as a potato. Then my mussels and bones rearrange themselves which is exactly as painful as it sounds. Then I pass out and I wake up with no memories of what the Hulk has done." Bruce said this casually, like it was just a part of life.
"Wow."
"You wanted to know."
They sat for a moment in silence. It was perfect, no tension, no fear, just trust.
"Thank you." Bucky whispered.
"No problem."