Bucky might be a horror show, but he doesn’t look that way in Steve’s eyes. The smaller blond hadn’t even jumped as clothing started to come off. He’d just given Bucky a little look of amusement and curiosity as he kicked out of his pants like a child who has finally gone ahead and given into the fact that he does have to bathe on occasion.

There are more murmurings because the class hasn’t had two figured before and the teacher is hurriedly rushing up to push a waiver at Bucky so bi one gets in trouble for public nudity here.

Steve’s eyes flicker over Bucky as appreciatively as ever. He’s not envious of the other guy, but he can’t lie about being upset at seeing his friend like this. It is upsetting, that’s for sure, the way the people that held him marred his once aesthetically perfect body...

But he’s still just as perfect. To Steve.

“You’re going a little overboard trying to show me up, pal,” Steve says, much more calmly taking off his robe. They fall to the floor at his feet and he follows them, sitting cross legged as comfortably as he can. “Have a seat. They work in half hour increments. You’re gonna get tired.”

He’s trying to make this normal. He can cry about what they did to Bucky later. Alone.