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Okay, this time, it was Sam’s fault. But in his defense, he was sleep deprived. In the past few days, he and Bucky had a movie marathon. They stayed up 3 whole days in a row. Bucky had at least gotten some sleep, since he was out like a light before he could help Sam clean up. Sam, being the caring boyfriend he is, let Bucky sleep while he cleaned up the mess. It took him 2 hours, but he got it done. And after freshening up, it all took 3 hours. And then he couldn’t sleep because he could hear Bucky snoring loudly. In the end, he at least got 2 hours of sleep.
And then they got a call from Sharon about a potential HYDRA hideout. She wanted them to check it out. Sam would have loved to say no, but Bucky was the one who answered the phone and had said yes.
So, here Sam was, 3 hours later, with a bullet in his leg and a sprained wrist. Honestly, he was surprised it wasn’t worse with how drunk he was behaving. Bucky, bless him, had called Sharon, who would pick them up with the medics in half an hour, and was now trying to keep the blood from leaving his body. He was also in Mama Buck mode. Nickname courtesy of Shuri.
“Damnit, Wilson. Why hadn’t you said something? Sharon could have sent someone else with me! You absolute idiot. When we get home, you ain’t leaving the bed for a whole month, are we clear?” Bucky kept ranting. It had been going on for a while now. Sam was unsure whether to laugh or roll his eyes. He decided on the bitch face look.
“Don’t give me that look, Wilson. Your fault this time, not mine,” said Bucky when he noticed it. He then frowned and saw that there was a cut on his cheek. He had forgotten about it when he saw the bullet and sprained wrist. “Keep pressure on your leg for a moment.” Sam did so, being careful not to use his bad arm. Bucky pulled the first aid kit they had closer. He got out the water they had and cleaned the cut, next he put on a thin layer antibiotic ointment and covered it with a bandage.
“Thanks,” said Sam, who was starting to see black spots in his vision. Bucky saw that he was close to passing out. He wasn’t sure if Sam had a concussion or not, but he wanted to have Sam awake till the medics came. He didn’t know what to do. So he just started talking. He asked Sam simple questions on how he found the movies they saw. Or what parts made him laugh or cry the most. Sam answered all of them and it kept him focused. However, Bucky was having less ideas on what to ask. He was quiet for a bit too long as Sam was starting to fall asleep.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. Sam jerked up and hissed as the sudden movement caused him more pain. “Sorry,” Bucky winced. “But, imagine this! What if we got paid for being pretty!” Where that came from, he had no idea, but at least something.
“You’d be rich,” said Sam, looking him right in the eye. Bucky blushed and smacked him on the good arm. “Oh, I see how it is. Injuring your hurt boyfriend.”
“Fuck you,” laughed Bucky. Sam grinned.
“Is that an insult or a to do list.”
“Get better and you’ll find out,” smirked Bucky.
“Oh, get a room, could you?” They turned to the left and saw Sharon standing at the entrance of the hideout. The medics came rushing in and helping Sam.
“Technically, we are in a room,” teased Bucky. Sharon rolled her eyes fondly and gestured for him to come along. Sam was already being taken to the Quinjet. It didn’t take long before they got to base and were being patched up by professionals.
And if Bucky actually made Sam stay in the bed for a month while he was recovering, well, no one but them had to know. And Sharon and Shuri, of course.