Work Text:
Little Secrets
Some days, Bucky couldn’t get out of bed. It always made him feel guilty and sick to his stomach when it happened, but not enough to crawl out from under the blankets. It was worse when it happened on days he had a date with Tony. His boyfriend was so busy that most of their “real” dates had to be scheduled a week in advance, and Tony got so excited for them. Somehow that didn’t help him get out of bed, only made him feel worse and burrow to the bottom of the blankets.
It had happened a couple times before. Tony had always looked so disappointed before he rallied. One time he’d even brought flowers and had hid them behind his back, like he was embarrassed for having brought them while Bucky felt so shitty. And then he asked if he could stay, but Bucky had always felt so ashamed, he’d never let him. He didn’t want Tony to see him the way he was before they’d gotten together, greasy-haired and hollow-eyed and eating peanut butter and jelly out of a jar with a spoon for a meal.
This time, he at least had the strength to send Tony a text that said, Bad day, sorry. :( Twenty minutes later he got a reply; Oh, and then, Okay, and then, I’ll have Pepper reschedule then, and then, five minutes after that, You gonna be okay?
Bucky felt something in him warm at the care as he texted back a ‘yeah.’ He didn’t think about how sad the ‘oh’ he’d received had been. He knew it was probably not that bad, but he couldn’t help but put the emotion behind it. He could almost hear how it would have been said, punched out and surprised but also resigned, like of course Bucky wouldn’t want to spend time with him. Tony always seemed resigned when people broke plans with him.
Bucky felt cold and sick with despair for having become one of those people and pulled the blankets over his head. He wished he wasn’t so awful.
He slept on and off, fitfully, for the rest of the day. He woke up once and thought, ‘I should get my dumb ass out of bed,’ and squirmed to the edge, but lost all motivation when he realized he’d already cancelled on Tony and he’d probably refilled his time slot with another meeting or a gala he’d put off to go out with him or a massage or something. Bucky hoped he’d chosen a massage. He didn’t take care of himself very well sometimes.
Bucky heard the door to his apartment open and groaned softly. He hoped it was Steve bringing him some matzo ball soup from the deli, even though he knew he’d get a thorough chewing out for letting it get this bad, as if he had a choice in the matter. He could probably stomach some soup. And he was definitely used to Steve yelling at him.
The door to his room opened, and he opened his mouth to say hello, or fuck off, he wasn’t really sure–and then something started crawling up under the covers.
“What the fuck–” he began, surprised and annoyed, but stopped when Tony’s face popped out from under the blankets, eyes bright and mischievous. “Tony?”
“Hi,” Tony said softly, face softening.
Bucky frowned, confused, but managed to retain enough politeness to mumble back, “Hi.” He waited for the questions, the demands, but instead all he got was a kiss pressed to his shoulder and then Tony tucking his head under his chin. He hesitated before gently wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist. “Hi,” he said again, softer.
He buried his nose in Tony’s hair. It smelled nice, felt good under his fingers. Tony had probably showered that morning. Bucky hadn’t. He was just about to draw his arm back, self-conscious, when he felt Tony’s lips move against his throat, heard him whisper something but not what. “What did you say?”
“I said,” Tony repeated softly. “Tell me a secret.”
Bucky frowned, carding his fingers through his hair slowly. “A secret?”
“It doesn’t have to be a big one. I’ll tell you a secret back,” Tony offered.
“Okay,” Bucky agreed in confusion. He thought about it for a minute before finally saying, “I think the spinach and artichoke dip you order for an appetizer anywhere they have it smells gross, tastes gross, and looks gross.”
Tony jerked back, staring up at him in betrayal. “You let me feed it to you!”
“Because I love you more than I hate spinach and artichoke dip,” Bucky explained.
Tony’s expression told him that he was in for the reaming out of a lifetime after Tony stopped feeling gooey and sweet about his admission. “I’ll remember this.”
“I have no doubt you will,” Bucky sighed. “Listen, this is stupid, I feel like shit and this just made me feel shittier–”
Tony huffed, offended. “I haven’t told you my secret yet!”
“Tony, honey, I can’t handle you hurting my feelings right now–” Bucky sighed again when Tony lifted his hands to cover his mouth. Well, he figured he might deserve it, telling Tony he hated his favorite appetizer and only put up with it because he knew Tony liked it.
“…My secret is,” Tony said once he was sure Bucky wouldn’t struggle. “…My secret is, that, um… Even when you have bad days, I still love you, and I’m not mad when they happen, except that I can’t do anything to make you feel better.”
Bucky felt all the playful fight building up in him immediately fall flat. He waited for the other man to pull his hands away before he whispered, “Tony, I… I’m sorry…”
“It’s not your fault,” Tony said quickly. “God knows there are things I do that make you upset you can’t help me. I just thought–I’ve never said it. And I wanted you to know, um. I still love you. Even when you have bad days. I don’t get angry when you cancel on me, by the way, I just–wish I could help you more. And I can’t. So… I just want you to know I’m here. For when you need me.”
Bucky buried his face in Tony’s hair, breathing deeply. “Yeah,” he croaked after a minute. “I think I knew, just–maybe I needed to hear it, too. Thanks, sweetheart.”
Tony smiled against his throat, then jerked back. “Oh!”
Bucky sighed but let him go, managing a small smile. “What?”
“I bought matzo ball soup from that deli you like! Steve says it always makes you feel better. I bought a gallon.”
“You bought me an entire gallon of matzo ball soup?” Bucky asked in disbelief.
Tony scoffed at him. Loudly. “NO, some of it’s for me! Now all of it’s for me.”
Bucky laughed a little. “Honey, no!”
“I’m gonna eat all the matzo balls and you can have the broth,” Tony replied, and squealed in delight when Bucky retaliated by pulling his shirt up and leaning down to blow a raspberry on his stomach.
It wasn’t really the soup that made him feel better, he thought, one arm wrapped around Tony’s shoulders as Tony chattered away between spoonfuls. It was the company that came with it.