[Steve takes in Bucky's disheveled state without trying to hide that he's doing it. Tiptoeing around the subject won't help any, he's sure, and there's a softness to his expression once the shock wears away. Not pity, but... understanding. Empathy. It's on the tip of his tongue to stammer, to apologize, to explain that he really did have no idea Bucky lived here.

Instead, Steve takes in a breath, holds it for a moment, then lets it go and smiles.]

What can I say? I'm dedicated to my work. Don't jump out a window, I'll probably follow you and those landings are hell on your knees.

[The banter seemed to help James in class, and even out of that setting on equal ground Steve wants to put him at ease.]

Would you like to come in? I can make coffee, or tea... I normally have juice and milk too but I haven't gotten to go grocery shopping yet.