The hand on his knee has Steve turning and looking at Bucky as though he's the last star in the sky. It doesn't escape him that he didn't need to say a word. Bucky just knows him. Whether it's this universe or any other, his best friend knows him on a level that Steve hasn't let anyone onto for decades. He closes his eyes, letting the feeling of it wash over him.

Fuck whether this is his Bucky or not. Steve was going be selfish for once in his life and just take the gift that was given to him.

"I don't need to pry into your life," he says. "I know enough to feel pretty confident any differences are small. Whatever I need to know, I'm sure you're gonna tell me when I need to know it. 'til then I'll be fine."

He pats the top of Bucky's hand, feeling at peace now. Behind them, the door to the theater opens, allowing Bucky out. Steve blinks, reluctant to point it out but also knowing that the point of the room must have been reached: Steve accepting that this Bucky, his or not, is at least his for this moment.

Steve smiles and some of his reluctance fades away. He'll see Bucky again.

"I guess you're good to go, Buck. Got other minds to bother."