Bucky turns his head a bit to give Zemo more access to his face. He's used to the touching, the chiding, the rubbing his stubble by now, although from time to time Zemo still gets grunts and disgruntled noises out of him.

Honestly he wouldn't know what Mrs. Zemo would have wanted. Seems pointless and empty to say she would have wanted him to live on or do whatever with his life. Especially since so many people want him dead or gone. But Bucky wants Zemo around and surely that ought to count for something now that they're married?

"Well, no promises," he says dryly. Is it too soon for that kind of joke? He's not sure. But he's still a soldier and dying is pretty common as far as soldiers go. "If I can help it we'll only do the positions you like," he jokes instead. Maybe a bit of that casual flirty European charm is finally rubbing off on him. Or at least, trying to fight off those tired, old, traditional puritanical values he unconsciously holds dear to his heart.