The normal sounds of the morning pulled Bucky out of his dream. The sun's rays shone across the floor, telling him he was late, but he allowed himself to fall into the moment. Steve was running his fingers across his bare back, tracing over the scars where his metal arm met his flesh. He raised his head up to greet Steve, who was lying beside him, his head held up by his crooked arm and propped hand.

"Did it hurt?" He asked. No good morning. He wasn't looking at him. He was staring at his arm. They never talked about it much.

"Hurt like hell at first. My neck, my spine, the skin. They made special painkiller for me because I kept making so much noise, not because they gave a damn about me, but it healed over pretty fast. Hurt when the bombing tore it off, but when Shuri made this one, she popped it in place. No pain at all." Steve's fingers continued to play across his back and it was a pleasant sensation, but staying here close to Steve reminded him of his words yesterday and why everything that went wrong in Paris now made sense.

He turned over on his back and stared at the roof of his hut. That needed work. His friends in the village would help him if he asked. He was a fast learner... if he kept himself busy he wouldn't have to think about it. He did his best yesterday, walking past Steve and throwing himself into his work, pushing him away, not wanting to talk about it. Then night came. Then he turned away from him, his mind racing back over his life watching his own memories, feeling like he was watching a movie of someone else's life.

Steve's fingers still caressed him, playing across his chest. He didn't stop him. His revelation explained so much. Why he never felt the urge to do anything else with Steve even though he loved him, even sleeping with him didn't make him want anything else. Why doing what they were doing now, was enough.

"So, asexuality," he said. He didn't want to talk about it, but he had to.

"That's what she saw in the files," Steve replied. Bucky raised himself up off the pallet and walked across the room to slip on a Wakandan tunic shirt, keeping his back to Steve.

He picked a piece of the fruit he kept on the table intended to be their breakfast.

"Would explain why all of those fix-ups never worked out." Bucky smiled to himself. It was funny. "Would explain a lot of other things too. Sam and I used to go into town, back when we were staying at the Tower, and women used to come on to me, men too, and I was clueless. Never noticed it. After it was all over, Sam would tease me. He was all... Couldn't you see she was into you? Porn, I didn't get it. I didn't understand it, but I thought it was because I was hung up on you, but it went a lot deeper than that. Could this have resulted from... what they did?" He asked.

"It's a possibility it was part of the process. There's so much we don't know." Steve said. Bucky heard him get up from the bed and counted his footsteps until he was beside him. He couldn't look at him.

The fruit tasted extra sweet. "If that's who I truly am, then it is what it is. If I'm not-" Bucky said. It was damn uncomfortable talking about this.

"Someone might have taken your freedom to choose away, again," Steve said.

"Yeah, that. Again." He swallowed hard. He needed a drink, even if it was early morning and it would do no good.

"It's much more likely that it's natural. It wasn't the experiments, not a side effects, not the serum," Steve said. "You remember, you were this way before the war."

"I was born this way?" Buck asked. "And Steve? We just happened to have become best friends when we were young? Best friends who liked to touch each other all the time? Best friends who didn't think it was weird to sleep in the same bed and nothing happen? What are the odds?"

"There was this old married couple, O'Hara's, back in the neighborhood, they met when they were like sixteen. They were together forever. Sometimes life works out that way for some people. You and Steve found each other early in life. It's rare, but it happens. Pure luck. Maybe that's all it is. Buck, it's ok." Strong arms turned him around. He didn't resist. "I can guess what happened in Paris. You tried and..." Steve said.

"We didn't fail. It reached a point I stopped. I couldn't go on. The parts work, I didn't find it revolting or anything, I just... lost interest. It didn't make any sense then, but it does now. He, Steve, didn't understand, he got mad, it didn't end well, because it wasn't supposed to end that way and that was the start of things going south for us, but what does that mean for... us? What about you? Are you like me?"

Steve's eyes went past him. Bucky knew he was looking into his past. "I don't know what's changed since I came here. Back in my other life, all the relationships I might have had never happened. They might have worked out, but I'll never know. Thing is, right here, I haven't pushed you away. I'm not going to unless that's what you want. Nothing needs to change between us. We still feel love, show affection like we always have." Steve smiled. "A relationship like ours can stand on its own," His fingers traced its way down Bucky's arm. He allowed himself to enjoy it.

"That's how this works?" he asked. "Was it this way, with your Bucky?"

"This is how it works with us," Steve replied. He took a step a step back. "With my Bucky... we didn't care what people thought. I don't care now. The way we are doesn't need to change, but it's entirely up to you. We can stay together, like we are now, or not. Your choice."

The physical affection Steve showed him was all Bucky needed, and he didn't want to lose that. Everyone else would think they were crazy, but they didn't need the big payoff. He never needed it, and nothing was missing.

"I'm not broken and don't need to be fixed. I don't want anything to change," he said.

Steve let out a sigh of relief. "I don't either. I wanted to give you... the option."

"I love you." Bucky meant it. Steve was one of the few who knew what those simple words meant to him. "For a minute there, when you were just talking, explaining things, you reminded me of..."

"Of what?"

"My Steve. Except it would be more like a lecture, less like an explanation."

Steve gave him an intense look and for a moment Bucky thought he would kiss him. He wouldn't push him away, but the specter of the other Steve, his rough kiss, and memories of their one encounter loomed large in his memory. He didn't want a repeat, and he wasn't ready to cross that line yet, so he turned away.

"So do we tell people we're...?" Bucky began. "What are we...exactly?"

"We're together, they'll figure it out, but what we do... or in this case, what we don't do behind closed doors, is nobody's business."