[Bucky's hair is still half-frozen to his face, damp from both sweat and the refrigeration. Releasing a sigh when Sam doesn't dislodge his fingers, he relaxes against the cushions and deeper into their link. For now, he doesn't have to think. Exhaustion, thirst, and hunger roll over him but none are more important than keeping the connection with Sam; everything else can wait. After all, he's got just the one hand and it's very much occuppied right now.
With a hum, Bucky acknowledges Sam, quietly content to sit like this for a while.]
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With a hum, Bucky acknowledges Sam, quietly content to sit like this for a while.]