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Bucky entered the apartment louder than he meant to. The door sticking so he nearly barreled through the entryway of he and Steve’s apartment, “Shit,” he spat, stumbling. It didn’t help that he was already in a bad mood, sore and tired from working on the docks. Not to mention he’d gotten a tongue lashing from his boss.
“Stevie, you here?” he shouted into the dark apartment. Nothing. “Stevie!”
He glanced at the clock, it was still early, he put the grocery bag he’d managed not to drop onto the kitchen counter. He put away canned food into the cabinets and went into their bedroom, making way to the bathroom to clean up before he started supper.
However, he didn’t make it that far because the bath was already occupied. Steve was curled into a tight ball, cheek pressed to his naked knees, face turned away from the door and shaking like a leaf.
“Steve?!” he was already kneeling beside the tub, resting a palm to his damp head, “Can you look at me baby doll?”
“Buck?” he was met with glassy eyes, looking feverish and as blue as he’d ever seen them. Like blue diamonds. Fuck. He knew that look.
“Jesus Christ you’re burning up, this water is scorching, you should be in cool water you know better than that when you’re sick.” Bucky scolded, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead and then his cheek again. Steve being sick wasn’t an unusual thing but nearly every time it scared Bucky to death, “When did this kick in huh?”
Steve coughed hard and wet, “Was at work…started feelin’ like I couldn’t breathe. Like an elephant sitting on my chest. Thought it was my asthma, was wrong. I-I was so cold I had to get in the bath.”
Bucky’s heart bounced, that sounded like the oncoming symptoms of pneumonia. Steve had been fighting a cold all week. Again, something he’d dealt with before, “Well, I know you ain’t gonna like this but we’re gonna have to get you outta there and into bed with a cool cloth. It’ll be a cold bath if this thing gets higher.” he leaned forward and pulled the plug on the drain, reached sideways for a towel in the dimly lit bathroom.
He helped Steve to stand and as soon as the cool air of the bathroom hit his exposed skin goosebumps riddled his flesh. He began to shiver so intensely an undeniable whimper escaped his throat and his back bowed.
“I know sweetheart, I know,” Bucky cooed softly, wrapping him up in the towel tightly and bodily lifting him up from the porcelain and hot water. Steve’s weight always bothered Bucky, even as much as the kid could put back he never seemed to gain an ounce, “In ya go.” he tucked him underneath the sheets and loose blanket, turned to the closet and dug for all the extras they had. Saved for those cold winter nights when their tiny, worn apartment didn’t hold enough heat. He tucked those around him too and returned to the bathroom for medicine and a cold cloth.
“You take any of this yet?” it was the same stuff he’d taken the last time he’d had pneumonia. He’d accidently doubled the prescription but was happy he had now.
Minutely Steve shook his head, teeth shattering loudly, “J-Just got home…needed to get warm. Chest hurts so bad.”
“Don’t you worry, I gotcha,” he filled the measuring cup as the doctor had directed, helped Steve lift his head just enough to take it down, “You sit tight I’m gonna get some ice. Maybe after you’re feeling better I’ll make you some soup.”
“P-Puke for sure if I e-eat now,” Steve gulped breathlessly, eyes closing in obvious pain.
Bucky kept a frown at bay, knowing that would only worry the younger man. He bent at the waist and brushed his lips to Steve’s scorching forehead, “I’ll get the ice.”
“Wanna get back in the tub, s-so cold Buck, please,” Steve stuttered, gripping the blankets tightly in his fists.
“Fever’s gotta break first, baby, I’m sorry,” he hurried into the kitchen, broke some ice off the chunk in the ice box and filled a large glass.
Steve was still whimpering his name and damn near vibrating against the sheets. Shit, if this got any worse he was gonna have to take him to the doc for sure. He really didn’t want to have to dunk him in a tub full of cold water. Last time was awful, absolutely awful, he’d fought him on it like a child might.
“Okay, here’s the ice,” he sat on the edge of the bed, setting the glass to the ratty side table. He took one of the bigger pieces and rested it on Steve’s forehead to melt into the cloth. He took the smaller pieces and ran them along his cheeks and neck and throat. Steve flinched and drew back, “Don’t make me get rough, baby doll, cause I will. We tackled this shit last time with all these steps. So please don’t fight me on it.”
“S’not like last time, is it? P-Please don’t b-be like last time,” his chest began to heave. Bucky could feel his heart rate climbing.
“Might just be a bad bug, shhh, don’t get all worked up. I’m right here and I ain’t goin’ anywhere, got it?” Last time had indeed been scary, but Steve had been stubborn and refused to go to the doctor. This time he was nipping this in the bud, “Won’t let that happen again. We got the medicine and penicillin from before. Won’t be like that again.”
To Bucky’s horror Steve had gotten worked up enough to bring on an asthma attack, coughing a horrible add in. He’d experienced enough of those to identify the tell-tale signs. He didn’t even ask, just dug around in the pockets of Steve’s discarded pants for the pills he placed beneath his tongue to ward these attacks off. “Come on sweetheart open up,” Bucky urged, trying to stay calm, and Steve complied. He grabbed one of Steve’s hands and pressed it to his own chest, “Try to copy my breathin’, feel that?” he stroked the knuckles placed in his grip, “In and out, slow and easy.”
Countless minutes later Steve sunk into the mattress in exhaustion, the mixture of pain killers and antibiotics making him more complacent.
“Buck…” he slurred, drunkenly wetting his lips with a pink tongue, “Stay here…”
“Not leavin’,” he repeated, and he probably would be saying that a lot until it passed, “Close your eyes, gain your bearings.”
Steve did as told, chest still hitching and bobbing but stiller than before.
The evening progressed slowly, with the occasional coughing fit, and Bucky re-wetting cloths and getting more ice. It didn’t feel like the fever was worse and although Steve was still occasionally shivering, that had calmed considerably as well. Once Steve seemed truly asleep, at least three hours later, Bucky realized how hungry he was. He kept the side lamp lit and went into the kitchen.
The two men, living together under the guise as friends of course, had the admiration of the elderly lady that lived four apartments down. Steve had thwarted a mugger almost a year before and she’d suddenly adopted Steve as if he were her own. Doted on him whenever she could and that meant cooking whenever she had the means to do so. So thanks to Mrs. Carson, there was cold chicken to eat in the fridge. No point in cooking for one. So he ate chicken in the low lit kitchen, swallowing down a big glass of milk. He nearly dropped said glass of milk when his name was being shouted from the bedroom.
He darted from the table and into the bedroom, immediately at Steve’s thrashing side, “Steve, Steve! Baby! It’s me, calm down,” he covered his forehead with his palm and the heat was just as it was before, “Shit!” he pulled the covers off of Steve’s sweat soaked form, looking smaller than usual and lifted the younger man into his arms. As if out of instinct Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and buried his face there, sobbing loudly. He didn’t know what delirium Steve was experiencing. When normal nightmares arrived, it was not being able to stop the fists coming at him and his mother at the hands of his father. Or Steve’s mother falling and he reaching out to have her fall seconds too late, just a fingertips length out of reach. The worst one was thinking that Bucky would leave in the dead of the night ‘leave him like everyone else’.
He figured it was the latter because Steve was muttering, “Too late, too late, couldn’t stop him.”
“Shhh, sweetheart, baby doll, it’s okay. I’m right here. You’re safe, just real sick, okay?” he balanced him on his lap and ran the water cold enough to stand, “I know you ain’t gonna like this, but we have to. It’s either this or waking up the doc and spending the night in the hospital.”
Steve didn’t seem to hear him, just continued his incoherent pleading and clutching so tightly to Bucky he could feel his fingernails biting through his t-shirt. “Ma’s bleedin, can’t stop him…”
Once the tub was full he had to pry Steve away long enough to shed him of his already soaked clothes. The thin chest was heaving like a hummingbird’s and pink with fever. Steve always ran hot anyways but this was ridiculous. With a deep breath of his own, he lowered his charge into the chilled water and was quickly met with resistance.
Steve thrashed and tried to hang onto Bucky with everything he had, “Bucky, please! Please don’t!”
His heart breaking in two, he held his boyfriend down, keeping a sure hand on the back of his head to keep him above the water, “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he begged, “Look at me, please, this is for your own good. Relax, relax, darlin’.”
Thankfully, Steve seemed to come to just enough to lock eyes with Bucky. Bleary and wet and red, “Bucky…”
“I’ve gotcha, remember? Not lettin’ go. Just gotta keep you in here for a little while until you cool off.” Bucky soothed, smoothing back the strands of blonde hair that stuck to his forehead. His cheeks spotted with red and pink mouth dry and panting.
“No, no, no…” he sobbed, “You’re gonna leave me. You’ll be off in the army a-and I can’t…you won’t want me when you r-realize how weak I am. How worthless I am…so weak…” he finally went completely limp, slumping into the water and turning his cheek to the stained porcelain.
“Steve Grant Rogers,” Bucky snapped, hoping it was the right level of sternness to cut through the hysteria. “I ain’t ever leavin’ you. Even if I gotta go off to some war you’ll always be my best guy. Always be my baby doll, you got that? Always come home to you. I know you’re sick as fuck right now but you get that in your brain right now.”
Steve’s crying only increased, as weak as it was, and was practically begging with body language alone to be held. So Bucky complied, held him as close as he could in the position they were in and peppered kisses over his warm brow, “Love you so much…”
“I love you too punk,” Bucky sighed in relief when he could hear some kind of coherency returning to Steve’s voice. He held him for a few moments longer, every now and again feathering his lips over damp hair or fever spotted cheeks. Steve was breathing normally again, thank Christ, “You need another round of meds. It’ll be better in the morning.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was better in the morning, not perfect, but the small cough had morphed into the signature rattling cough of pneumonia. So much for promises, Bucky thought grimly. The fever had minimalized to less hysterical fits of delusion. He remembered the doc saying that a patient needed to get up and move if possible, at least sit up, but Steve was weak. Hadn’t eaten really anything in two days. With little to no fight, he scooped Steve up in his arms bridal style and carried him around the apartment. Every now and again swaying him from side to side. He knew if Steve was more lucid he would stubbornly argue that he wasn’t ‘some dumb kid’ or ‘baby’. For now, he was calm enough under the heavy medication and too exhausted to care.
It was with the presence of exhaustion that Bucky began to worry himself. He could be shipped off any day for training and who would look after Steve? As stubborn as the young man was he would never admit that he needed help. The last several hours were testament to this. He fought, just like he fought the fights he lost in the streets. All the damsels’ in distress and wronged people out there. He felt his eyes begin to burn fiercely when Steve snuggled closer, arms now loose and useless around his shoulders. He figured that was enough moving around and lowered both of them to the bed. Steve only cuddled closer, wrapping around him like an octopus.
Bucky wiped fitfully at his eyes, trying to keep his chest still from any hiccupping. He simply held Steve tighter and hoped this was all over in the morning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nearly three days later and Bucky woke to fingers in his hair and lips to his cheeks. Blurrily he managed to open both eyes and was met with Steve’s blue. Free of that glassiness from the days before, “Hey baby, how ya feelin?” he mumbled, or at least he thought he did.
“Better,” Steve replied, voice rough and raw, “Really tired…but better.”
“That was a rough couple a days, huh?” he said, closing his eyes, reaching out and taking one of Steve’s thankfully cool hands.
“Thanks for taking care of me Buck. You act like Ma sometimes, ya know that?” Steve chuckled low and soft, “She never let up for a second. Don’t know how many times I was sicker than a dog and she wouldn’t leave my side.”
“Happy to do it baby doll. Just glad you’re better. How about some chow?” he smiled, moving closer running one thumb beneath blue eyes.
“I think I could stomach some soup, not much more than that,” Steve sighed and curled into Bucky’s side, nuzzling the exposed flesh of his throat.
“Soup it is,” he delivered a swift kiss to Steve’s mouth, with a knowing protest of ‘you’ll get sick’ and a gentle shove, “How about a change of scenery?”
“Should I move? You’re the doctor,” Steve grinned, pushing himself up with effort against the headboard.
“Doc says yes,” he tucked an arm at the bend of his knees, urged and around his shoulder and scooped Steve off the bed.
“What have I said about doing that?!” Steve sputtered.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Bucky chuckled, carrying him into the living room, setting him to the couch as if he were made of glass.
“Not gonna break,” Steve muttered under his breath.
“I heard that,” Bucky frowned, “Last couple days scared me, you’re puttin’ up with this whether you like it or not. Soup!” he disappeared into the kitchen.
Bucky rolled his eyes when Steve crossed his arms with a disgruntled huff. He made both of them soup, then settled on the couch alongside him. By the time Steve had finished it and another round of meds, it seemed it was enough to exhaust him, he was already leaning sideways against Bucky. He carefully raised an arm up and drew Steve closer. He knew it might be better sleeping upright anyway, better for his lungs. As per usual, whenever they got close like this, Steve burrowed even closer. Bucky pulled the cotton blanket around them both and kissed his forehead.
“Love you Buck,” Steve mumbled, mouth already going slack.
“Love you too baby doll,” Bucky murmured against the shell of his ear.