Bucky smiles, nods when Sam kisses his metal hand. He can feel that, actually.

"First thing I did when I got home was get fixed, I can't... really handle the idea of living with anyone younger than a teenager. Babies are a lot of work. Raising humans who can't rationalize? I ain't cut out for that. Not a lot of omegas my age feel the same."

Just to be straight up.

"I got people. Therapist, psych, all that." He nods. "You ain't gotta worry about that part. But I appreciate it."