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Sick, Not Stupid
Steve and Bucky were ashamed of how long it took them to realize that Tony was sick. The morning had started out so normal, though! Steve and Bucky had gotten up for their run, kissed Tony goodbye, and then left. They’d brought back bagels and Tony was still in bed, which wasn’t abnormal, so they’d brewed some coffee and made some bacon to try and lure him out. When that didn’t work, they went to snuggle him aggressively.
Tony woke up just long enough for hugs, kisses, and bacon, then fell right back to sleep. They chalked it up to a late night in the workshop and merrily went on their ways to watch some Bonanza. When lunch time came, they made sandwiches and went to coax Tony awake again, because he wouldn’t sleep through the night if they let him sleep any longer. Bucky leaned in to press a kiss to the brunet’s forehead.
And then Tony sneezed directly into his face.
Bucky screamed and flailed off the bed. “Oh my God!”
“Dorry,” Tony said, voice nasally. “Can I ged a tissoo?”
Steve handed him a tissue wordlessly, gaping. “Tony, are you sick?”
Tony glared at him with bleary eyes, rimmed with red. His nose was red, too, and his cheeks blotchy with fever. The rest of his skin was pallid and clammy. “Whad do yoo dink, Deve?”
“Uh,” Steve said intelligently.
“In my face!” Bucky shouted from the floor.
Tony frowned, actually feeling a little bad about it. “Dorry.”
“Honey,” Bucky said, flopping his torso back onto the bed and frowning at him. “Why didn’t you say you were sick? We could have been in here taking care of you!”
The smaller man scowled immediately. “I’mb a fordy-year-old man. I dink I know how do dake care of myself.”
“Captain, Sergeant,” JARVIS cut in. “Studies have proven that rest and hydration are the best things to treat a cold. Sir has had many such afflictions and taken excellent care of himself.”
“I can’t work if I’mb dick,” Tony explained. “And I don’ want adyone else do ged dick.”
The two super-soldiers stared at him for a long moment before Steve said, “I think people should be allowed to get all the dick they want.”
“Die,” Tony said, throwing his used tissue at him, as the other brunet began to laugh.
“Aw, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, crawling up beside him. “You know I only tease you because I love you.”
“I wish I’d sneezed on yoo insdead,” Tony muttered mulishly, but let the blond pull him into his ridiculously strong arms. “Bucky didn’t make fun of me.”
“Bucky is pretending he doesn’t want to go wash his face,” the blond replied, pressing the back of his hand to his flushed cheek. “Oh, honey. Have you taken anything?”
Tony frowned, thinking. “…An aspirin? But I don’ remember when.”
Bucky stood and began walking to the bathroom. “JARVIS, when was the last time Tony had something?”
“Sir had Aspirin when he went to bed a one-thirty-seven this morning,” JARVIS replied promptly. “Might I suggest acetaminophen or ibuprofen? They are anti-inflammatory and help with aches.”
“Head hurds,” Tony admitted quietly.
Bucky rifled through the medicine cabinet. “Don’t worry, doll-face. We’ll get some medicine in you and then you can go back to sleep.”
Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead and sighed when he felt how hot it was against his lips. “Are you cold, honey?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately. “Yoo brod me oud of my cocoon.”
“Well, let me just help you back into your cocoon,” the blond chirped, grabbing the blankets to wrap around him tightly.
Bucky came out of the bathroom and snorted. “Oh my God, Steve. You’ve turned him into a burrito.”
“This is the happiest burrito you’ve ever seen,” Steve said, leaning up against the headboard and propping Tony up against his chest. “How’s this? Does reclining help?”
“Yes,” Tony said with just a touch of stubbornness. “Bud now I can’t use my hands.”
Bucky crawled onto the bed with a glass of water and some Tylenol. “I don’t mind being your hands,” he said, pressing the pills into his mouth and then holding the glass up so he could take little sips. “You just rest, okay? Steve will keep you company and I’ll go warm up a can of soup for you.”
Tony glanced at the plate of sandwiches on the nightstand guiltily. “Sounds good. I’mb dorry.”
“Sweetheart, don’t be sorry that you’re sick. It happens,” Steve said. He settled more comfortably against the headboard. “Besides,” he added slyly. “This means we get to cuddle you for an extra long time.”
“Well,” the brunet muttered, sinking further into his blanket cocoon. “…Guess it sounds alright.”
By the time Bucky came back, Tony was dozing, so he set the mug of soup on the nightstand and crawled on the bed to press up against their sides, throwing his leg over Tony’s and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Poor baby.”
“Yeah,” Steve said quietly. “But at least we don’t have to fight to get him to rest. I’d been kind of worried about it.”
“Woulda served you right, punk,” Bucky said, endlessly fond. “I used to have to sit on you to keep you in bed.”
The blond chuckled quietly, nuzzling the top of Tony’s head. “Yeah. Guess I’m pretty lucky, then.”
Bucky watched the brunet try to snuggle further into his blankets. “We both are,” he said softly.