Bucky has always been a fairly well muscled guy, he worked out in high school and was on the boxing team. But time in the army has only honed that, and Steve will feel an added layer of tension beneath the muscle to make Bucky's back hard as steel. He almost turns and pushes Steve back when he feels the other guy's head hit him from behind without warning, instinct screaming at him that he's vulnerable to attack.

It's only because it's Steve, and because he feels the warm dampness of tears soaking through, that he manages to keep his head and do nothing. He's not sure what exactly of the many things he's trying to hide that Steve has figured out, but he feels his stomach sink. This is one of the reasons he didn't seek them out, he didn't want any of the people that he cared about to get hurt seeing what had happened to him.

More than that, he knows Steve. He knows that if Steve finds out everything, then the asshole will cope with it better than he does. He'll research every goddamn thing about amputations and PTSD, he'll go to rallies and fight for better treatment of vets injured in service, he'll force Bucky to go to his VA meetings and physiotherapy appointments. He'll be, in short, his annoyingly stubborn and perfect self.

"Don't..."

It's soft and hesitant, and he's not even sure what he's asking Steve not to do. Don't cry, don't ask, don't find out his secrets.

"...come on, I thought you wanted to meet the dog."