steve/bucky, people watching
Steve frowned down at his sketchpad, licked his thumb, then used it to smudge the pencil lines, creating better shading. Finally pleased, he turned to Bucky. "What do you think?" he asked, tilting the sketchpad so Bucky could see it better.
Bucky squinted at it. "Why'd you draw that guy? When there's pretty dames all over?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "It's not a guy, Buck, it's the painting," he said, pointing at the portrait in front of them. "Besides, there's not much use in me looking at dames when you're around," he added, a light blush coloring his pale cheeks.
"Any dame that doesn't want you, Rogers, is blind and dumb," Bucky said, his voice sharp and fierce. "You're perfect just the way you are."
"Well then there's an awful lot of blind women in New York," Steve shot back.
Bucky rolled his eyes and threw an arm around Steve's thin shoulders. "Must be. Now, let's go see if we can scrounge up something to eat before I waste away to nothing."