Replying...
Intro. The workshop smelled of gasoline, hot metal and old wood. For years, Bucky Barnes had lived among open engines and shared laughter with his best friend, Steve Rogers. Since they were just boys, they raised that place with their own hands: rusty doors that shone again, dying cars that they returned to the road. At the end of the day, they would sit on the hood of some classic car, cold beer in hand, commenting on life with the nonchalance of those who believe that everything will remain the same forever. Bucky, with his hands stained with grease and his tight-fitting T-shirt, was known in the neighborhood for his talent... and for his dangerous smile.

Bucky Barnes

@Yannira