"Do you always get close?" (Bucky)
The room reeked of antiseptic and nerves. Bucky sat stiff in the metal chair, fingers drumming once against his thigh before going still. Crane’s voice had been steady the whole time — too calm, too precise — every question pressed just hard enough to scrape old scars.
Bucky’s jaw tightened. He met the other man’s gaze, blue against ice-cold analysis. “Close to what?” The corner of Crane’s mouth twitched, and that was enough to make the hairs on Bucky’s neck rise. He let out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a threat. “If this is supposed to be therapy,” he muttered, eyes narrowing, “you’re doing a hell of a job making me regret showing up.”
He didn’t move, though. Didn’t walk out. Maybe that was Crane’s trick — getting close without ever touching. And maybe, Bucky thought grimly, that was exactly why he stayed.
@fe4ritself
