Leaving Bucky goes against every instinct in Steve; he doesn’t go until the whole team’s accounted for and debriefed. But he’s got no business in this part. He’s got to show he trusts Bucky can handle it.Steve does a quick sweep of the place, despite all the tech making it redundant. It feels good to do it anyway; useful. When he’s done, the silence in the house is too loud, pressing in on Steve as he stands in the bedroom in his quickly stiffening uniform.He tries not to think of Bucky as he sheds his gear in the bathroom. There’s a shower wide enough to fit the whole team and a tub to outmatch it. Bucky’s already set up an intimidating number of products, crowding the stall shelf and lined up on the sink counter in various shapes, sizes, and hues. Steve determinedly keeps to his own travel-sized products as he lathers and scrubs up and rinses down. His own shampoo is a 3-in-1.“It’s efficient,” Steve had grumbled, feeling abnormally defensive at the Look Bucky had given both him and his shampoo. Steve was saving both time and money. The damn thing had words on it like triple action formula . It was a modern-day miracle as far as Steve was concerned.