Chapter Text
Bucky can feel the sneeze coming on, and no matter how hard he wills it away, the sneeze bubbles out of him and leaves him feeling more miserable than he had before. Head pounding as he groans, he feebly reaches out of the blanket cocoon he’s found himself in and grabs a tissue from the box Steve left for him.
God, Steve. He doesn’t know how he just knows what Bucky needs. Maybe it was years spent being plagued with different things himself, but when Bucky woke up halfway through the night, barely making it to the bathroom before being sick, Steve had spent the rest of the morning making sure he was okay.
It was near insufferable of course, and now Bucky realizes Steve must have felt all those years that he would come over and help take care of him while Sarah had to go to work. Either way, it’s awful. The last thing he needs, or even wants, is Steve having to take care of him. But by the time the sun had risen and a fever had formed, Steve had called in to work, planning to take care of him.
“Promised to be there for you in sickness and in health. This is the sickness part, pal.” Steve had just murmured in response to Bucky’s grumbling, a near whimper escaping him as Steve had simply pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Even now, sweaty with a fever, head and stomach warring with him, Bucky finds himself grateful to have Steve here with him. Even if his husband is dumb enough to press a kiss to his head every time he gets, ignoring the weak shoves Bucky gives to keep him from doing so, muttering each time, “Y’re gonna sick too.”
Grimacing as he blows his nose before tossing the tissue half-heartedly away, Bucky hunkers down further into the bed, closing his eyes and sighing heavily as he tries to find any amount of comfort or rest he can get.
Gentle hands are shaking him awake, along with the murmuring of his name. He wasn’t even aware he’d fallen into a doze, but now that he’s being taken out of it, he can’t suppress the whine that claws its way out of his sore throat.
Hands stilling, Bucky sighs as he cracks an eye open, squinting before blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He finds a blurry Steve in front of him, and as he blinks again, he finds a less blurry Steve with an apology written across his face. “Sorry, honey. I just didn’t see you in our room. What’re you doing in here?”
“Sveve?” Bucky mumbles, rolling onto his back and looking up at him, eyes fluttering closed as Steve fits his palm to one flushed cheek.
“Baby, why’re you in here?” Steve asks again, free hand brushing hair out of his face as Bucky lips chapped lips and swallows roughly.
“S- uh… Didn’t… Didn’t want you… gettin’ sick.” Bucky slurs with a frown, hunkering further into his blanket and pulls away from Steve’s comfort. This was what he’d be trying to avoid anyway.
Even if moving from their bedroom to the guest room with his blanket and tissues, it didn’t really make any sense to get two rooms infected with his germs, but he wasn’t thinking clearly now anyways.
“Buck.” Steve murmurs, awe in his voice as he concedes and takes his hand away from his face and gently takes hold of one of his hands. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about me. ‘M okay. Just let me take care of you.”
Steve can see his request working through Bucky’s head, weighing the pros and cons the best he can before he frowns as he looks up at him. The frown shouldn’t be so endearing, but then again anything Bucky did was usually endearing in Steve’s eyes.
“‘Kay.” Bucky mumbles, rolling onto his side and facing Steve, but still trying to keep space between them. Brightening up, Steve gives his hand a comforting squeeze, bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckles, before placing it back down gently before turning towards the nightstand.
“Brought you some soup and water, you feel up to either?” Steve asks, Bucky already reaching out to him at the offer of water. Taking hold of the glass and cradling the back of Bucky’s head to help him take a sip, he pulls it back a moment later as Bucky sinks back into the bed.
“Want some soup? You should probably eat.” Steve murmurs, but finds that Bucky is already struggling to remain awake.
Leaving the soup untouched and placing the water back to the side, Steve tucks the blankets further around Bucky before leaning down and pressing another kiss to his temple. “Love you, Buck.”
Rising to leave him to rest, he stops as fingers brush against his hand, “Stay. Please.”
Warmth blooming from his chest, Steve climbs over him on the bed, earning a confused sound from Bucky before he’s pulling him back against his chest. “‘M not going anywhere, Babe.”
Bucky grunts but relaxes in Steve’s embrace, content with being held by him but still grumbling close to, “Don’t blame me if you get sick.”
And even if Steve is feeling a bit off later in the week, earning a death glare from his husband and calling him an idiot as he tends to him, Steve still sees it as worth it.