Orders came for sailing (слэш)

Bucky drops into the trench. It’s pitchy black, and he’s good; there’s no warning save the displacement of air. Steve is wedged into a sentry stance beneath the earth, on guard and half-awake, when he feels Bucky come in like wind.
“What’s the secret password?” stage-whispers Steve.
“It’s ‘fuck off.’” Bucky displaces more air, wending Steve-wards. “Didn’t wanna startle you. Hoped you were gettin’ some sleep. You don’t sleep enough, Steve.”
“Whose fault is that?” Steve says, smiling under the ground in the dark. “C’mere.”