The lack of hesitance and the way Henry draws even closer evokes a long, pleased sigh through Bucky’s nose. He’d never anticipated how naturally they could flow from indulging a curiosity to simply taking the delightful thrill that permeates the moment they’re in right now, but it stirs Bucky’s appreciation for having a friend like Henry all the more.

There are very few who do not judge Bucky’s every action, even as a stranger to the others within COST, and there are lesser still those who are willing to give back as evenly as Bucky dishes out himself. Maybe he should have taken the fact Henry had easily joined him in conversing about the idiotic supposition of what life would be like if everyone had wheels for feet as a sign, but Henry’s lack of apprehension now is the confirmation.

It’s as they continue kissing, quiet, wet smacks and chirps of suction filling the air around them, that Bucky gradually realizes why exactly their actions seem to satiate an unknown need within him. While he’s had his share of meaningless kisses with strangers since being freed from Hydra’s grasp (never taking it too far; he can’t risk anything more than a makeout or two with someone he’ll never see again), none of those had brought with it an informed desire. Henry knows what kind of man he is, what he’s capable of, and still wants to kiss someone like him. This is no longer the test it had started as but genuine interaction, and Henry has not only drawn closer but reached for him, grasped on without pity.

Someone knows the monster and honestly still wants him.

The realization is so jarring that he doesn’t even really have the capacity to wonder why he’s still sitting here making out with a guy.