[ He'll tell him, one day. About Walker. About the Falcon wings being ripped out. About how he couldn't even fathom keeping and fixing them after that, not when it felt like a violation he's not sure he can put into words. About how if not for Bucky, Sam's not sure he'd have gotten a new set of wings at all. It's not a conversation for right now, though.

For now, Sam smiles up at Bucky, faced framed beautifully by the white cowl, warm eyes semi-hidden behind the red tint of the goggles. ]

I'd love to. You can come pick me up after work, and I'll give you a show.

[ For now, he pulls the goggles back off his face, gives Bucky a searching look for a moment, then gestures at the space around him. He can feel tiredness tugging on him, and has to stifle a yawn, but he's not about to ask Bucky to leave to either spend the night outside or brave a room mate who's a stranger to him. ]

Stay. Ain't nobody else here but us anyway. You can be creepy and watch me sleep, and just... hang around, y'know.

[ Perhaps get some rest, even if Sam suspects sleep might not be in the cards. ]