"You look like you could use a drink." ice cubes are clinking in the glass he holds out, swirling around in amber liquid. "Now now, don't look at me like that. I may be a cold bastard, but I know that look. It's a place even I won't push."
Bucky's eyes lift to rest first on Len, then on the glass, the furrow between his eyes deepening for a moment before he shrugs and accepts the drink. He and Len haven't exactly been on the best of terms since meeting, but an offer of solidarity was an offer of solidarity. And at least Len wasn't one to pry or, God forbid, coddle.
He lifts the glass briefly in acknowledgement before taking a drink. It's whiskey, and it burns pleasantly all the way down. "Thanks."
A moment of hesitation slows his decision, but he finally shuffles himself sideways a little, leaving room on the steps should Len decide to sit down. He's not really sure why he does it. Maybe it's just easier to not drown in his own thoughts and memories when someone is sitting beside him. And maybe Len has been wandering around the ship at this time of night, when everyone else is asleep, looking for his own lifeline.
Either way, quiet solidarity. The idea isn't completely unappealing.