For as wholly poignant as knowing it’s possible for someone to know the killer and not be repulsed, to say that it does anything to draw Bucky out of the present would be incorrect. While it certainly opens doors Bucky had long forgotten the hallways for, feeling the immediate want reciprocated in Henry’s every movement is intoxicating. Which is as intensely desired on Bucky’s part as it would seem for anyone like him who can 1) no longer become intoxicated and 2) drank quite normally for fun before he lost the ability to feel the affects of it.

Even the feeling of Henry’s hand moving closer to something Bucky doesn’t know he can give slips by the wayside, the fact Bucky can still claim kisses more urgent in his mind than the possibility of Henry pushing for something they both likely know won’t happen.

Only when Henry draws away, the need to chase to find the press of his lips again, does Bucky really clear from his stupor, breath heavy and a pained sigh sitting at the tip of his tongue at how keenly he feels the loss of what had been his moments before.

“What is it?” A tinge of concern as he pulls back too, giving Henry space should he need it.