[Steve has been aware of the nightmares. He himself has become quite the insomniac since the serum. Even on the USO tour, before he had quite so much nightmare fuel filed away in his brain (although watching Dr. Erskine die more or less in his arms was probably plenty), he found himself up at all hours. Walking halls at 3 AM. Jogging up and down stairs trying to get himself tired enough to rest. More than five hours a night just doesn't happen often. These days, he's pleased if he manages to sleep for three a night. He's pretty sure what he's been through is a drop in the bucket to what Bucky has suffered, but even at that rate he's seen plenty of horror.

But now it's an advantage to need and want less sleep. It means he can keep an eye on Bucky (from a distance; no one wants to wake up from a bad dream and find their friend staring at them from the doorway), and Steve finds the knowledge that Bucky is safe in the next room, even if he's twitchy and wakeful, deeply reassuring. It's almost too bad he doesn't snore. Steve would happily doze to that sound.]

Thanks. [He blushes a little, grinning.] I'd pass along the compliment to Erskine if I could.

[That could sound bitter, but it most comes out matter-of-fact. The serum didn't change his face much, but it sure reshaped the rest of him.

He laughs.] Pal, if you do too much wiggling around here, taking things slow is going to fly right out the window. I'm just letting you know.

[Because they're all tangled together, and Steve's groin is about at the level of Bucky's hip, and there's a distinct possibility of having to break for a cold shower if they keep at this for long enough.] But I don't want to get up, either.