Hungry? God yes, Steve’s hungry. He’s hungry enough that his mouth constantly feels wet, like he’s on saliva overload. To prove it, he even swallows, though his eyes avert themselves away from Bucky.

“I could eat.” He's just not sure if he’s hungry for food... or something else. It’s not like he’s a paragon of virtue, but it’s also not like he’s got a hundred guys breaking down his door to be with him. Steve has not had much luck with that. Not even with the guys that don’t look like the stereotypical, fitness obsessed gym rats he’s more or less attracted to. It’s probably not fair to lust over guys with good muscle definition when he doesn’t have any muscles to define but—

But, well, now he does. His eyes dart to the door.

“Maybe I’m not safe to be around,” he says, but it’s with a level of distraction. His right knee bops as he bounces the ball of his foot on the ground. “I’d really hate myself if I hurt you.”