✪`,— 𝐽𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑆 ‘𝐵𝑈𝐶𝐾𝑌 ’ 𝐵𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐸𝑆 .ᐟ.ᐟ

( Her right brow lifted to his position, close but not too close, she was seeing clear in his little game. ) Closer.

wh— let me see your phone, James

he woke up wanting his back blown out so bad. someone who’s hung, please come help him.

( Her leg moved up enough to straddle him, now resting on his lap, leaning in a slow motion over him to plant another kiss against his lips, hands roaming along his bare chest, nails scratching the flesh. ) What are you doing here..?

hey pal ….

Of course I liked it, you’re speaking facts. It’s just better to me because you’re the one saying it~

I assure you I'm quite healthy. I've even had all of my shots.

...I can learn.

Tony shrugs when Bucky questions him making the engines himself. To him, it's no big deal but to those who are still new to those kinds of things, it probably sounds remarkable. "Please--I've been building engines since I was six years old, these things are as easy as making a sandwich; all you need are the right "ingredients". I should show you one of the V12s. Now that'll give you a rush like never before!" Picking out the keys from a rack of them he had hidden and locked away, Tony finds the ones that go with the vehicle and walks over to Bucky to hand them over to him. "Take a seat. I'm sure you didn't forget where Coney Island is. I'll let you give her a test drive but you gotta tell me what you think after. Deal?"

… Never mind. I got it. You’re the mentally ill variant.

The hell does that make you then? The altar boy variant?