“You have a dog,” Steve breathed as if the words themselves carried a sacredness to them. There’s no way to fight a guy back from so called peace keeping missions who also somehow owns a dog. Steve’s about ready to explode with excitement.

He can’t exactly call off his shift since he needs every hour they give him but he’s going to rush Bucky out of the store as quick as possible so he can spend time with his new pet.

At least he isn’t allergic to dogs. A cat would have been another story. It’s the one thing that he’s been blessed with, though sometimes his lungs don’t really like all the hair. He’s just going to hope that Bucky doesn’t bar him from some rough housing with a dog on account of the fact that he doesn’t have his inhaler on him.

“Your mom never let you get a dog!” Steve’s arms are laden with canned goods and he’s juggling them and a half gallon of milk, trotting after Bucky the way he’d use to when they hit up the arcade or went to the mall to hang out with some girls from school. “You’re such a rebel,” he laughs, shaking his head in amusement. It’s too bad they don’t have anyone he can claim he’ll tell about this craziness.