It was far from the first time he’d casually flirted with Bucky. He felt comfortable doing so. Bucky always seemed to like his little flirts so he saw no reason to stop. Dinner was good, and they were currently doing his favorite pastime, making out with Bucky, and he couldn’t help make the joke. Of course, he didn’t actually expect it to work, so when Bucky reached back and pulled the shirt off, casually tossing it onto the floor, the heat rose almost immediately to his cheeks. He stared at the shirt on the floor for a moment, then back at Bucky, trying to keep his own joke going despite the pink tint to his cheeks.
“Uh-- yep, looks- looks better on the floor.” Goddamn how was it that Bucky was so toned? He tried, really tried, not to stare. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d seen Bucky without a shirt. Hell, the first time they met, he’d caught the man with belt troubles and stopped to admire the view. Not that that made it any easier to stop staring now.