"I'm sorry," Steve said huskily, realizing that Bucky must be afraid of losing the freedom he'd taken so painfully for himself. Of course he would be. He'd spent seventy years being shown over and over again how helpless he was, being broken down, humiliated, controlled, and finally brainwashed into being more machine than man. Steve had read every file that he and Sam had found in burned-out Hydra facilities, anything that was left of the records of what had been done to his best friend, as though it was his duty to be witness. They'd left him with nightmares, left him sick with helpless terror and rage; he could only imagine what such memories did to a man who'd lived through them, even one as strong as Bucky. And now that he was bonded to Steve, there would always be a part of him that must depend on him for survival.

"I don't want you as a machine. I don't--Bucky, I can't live without you. I need you, too." He felt himself shiver when Bucky's fingers brushed over his bare stomach, felt an aching need to hold him closer, bury himself against him. In spite of the words Bucky was exploring him, nuzzling closer to him, and Steve would let him have anything, any part of him that he wanted to claim for his own. He nosed back, cupping Bucky's cheek again and brushing his thumb at the corner of a mouth he wanted badly to kiss. "I guess...because we belong together. We belong to each other."