"Yeah, magic," Bucky muttered. When your best friend suddenly goes from a hundred pounds soaking wet to a hulking mass of muscle with super strength, you see a guy rip his face off to reveal a red skull underneath, and you maybe have some enhancements running through your blood now too - really, at what point do you just give up and go with it? Whatever that point was, Bucky seemed to have passed it. "Sure, why not?" He took another swig of bourbon.

Bucky couldn't quite help the pleased smile that spread across his face at Eliot's exuberance, though he tried by biting his bottom lip. Finally he just shook his head a little, before giving the other man a conciliatory smile. "Not that I ain't flattered," he said kindly, with a significant look, "but I think you and I might have different ideas for 'fun', in some areas." He was trying to let the guy down easy; no, he wasn't into in any of that, but Eliot had been nothing but kind and helpful to him, and he had no problem what the guy was into - he just wanted them to be square from the beginning, with no misunderstandings between them.

It wasn't even that Bucky wasn't curious - growing up in his neighborhood, you heard, even saw things; anyone would be curious, right? But nice fellas just didn't do that sort of thing, or so he was told, and so he'd never considered it. Not seriously, anyway.