Chapter Text
Bucky unlocks the cabin door, wrapping his flesh arm around Steve’s waist as the metal one works the doorknob.
“I’ve been waiting all night t have you all to myself, you know,” he teases.
Steve grins, but there’s tension behind the smile.
Bucky tips his head as they enter the spacious room. “You ok?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Steve says. “’Course I am.”
Bucky shuts the door behind them and tugs Steve into an embrace. He kisses Steve’s neck below his ear. “You sure?” he whispers.
“Mm.”
But he can feel Steve swallowing, the stiffness spreading.
“Talk to me, Stevie.” Bucky pulls back to look him in the eye.
“I don’t know. Maybe I ate too much?” He moves one arm across his abdomen and shifts on his feet. His shoulders jerk upward as he fights a hiccup.
“You wanna lie down, maybe?” Bucky gestures at the richly colored bedspread. “I mean, to rest.”
Steve shrugs. “I’m ok.” But his voice comes out garbled, like he’s forcing spit down with paralyzed throat muscles.
“Hey, if you don’t feel good—”
Steve pitches forward, spilling undigested dinner across the intricate design of the Persian carpet. He brings his hand up a moment too late, only serving to redirect the stream of sick into a spray.
“Sorry,” he says when he can finally speak. “I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” Bucky says, patting him on the back. “You’ll be ok. Don’t know if I can say the same for the rug, though…”