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Steve walks into the apartment he shares with Bucky. It’s not too far from where they grew up, it has great lightning, but most importantly they’ve turned it into a home since moving in together last year. He is still carrying his shield and a duffel bag with clothes. The mission he was on was good. They managed to save everyone which is always a relief. Still, he’s more than ready to drop himself on the couch and cuddle with his boyfriend.
Something is off though. The apartment is quiet, much too quiet. Steve calls out Bucky’s name and there’s no response. Panic rises in his chest and claws at his throat. He drops the bag but pulls the shield closer to his body, tightens his grip and prepares himself for the very worst. A million scenarios run through his mind, all equally terrible. He rushes into the living room, not knowing what he will find.
He lowers the shield and sighs in relief. Bucky is asleep on the couch, a fuzzy blanket pulled around him. His chest moves up and down steadily. The room is illuminated by the large TV Tony bought them. One of Bucky’s favourite cooking shows is playing, though the sound is turned off. Steve’s not sure if it’s the light or something else but Bucky looks a little pale. A little tired, too. Steve gently shakes his shoulder.
Bucky wakes up slowly. He blinks a few times and says, “Steve,” in a groggy voice.
“Hey Buck,” Steve says softly. He runs a hand through Bucky’s hair and presses a kiss to his forehead. “God. You’re burning up, baby. Are you okay?” he asks, unable to hide his concern. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I’m fine,” Bucky says, “‘S just the flu. Dr. Cho says I should be feeling brand new in a couple of days. I ate,” he motions vaguely with his hand and scrunches up his nose, “this morning. I think?”
“Sweetheart,” Steve sighs, “you gotta eat more than that. Regain your strength. Lemme heat up some of that soup Sharon made the other week for you.”
“Thank you, Stevie,” Bucky says, then groans, “you’re going to go all mother hen on me again, aren’t you?”
Steve shrugs, his cheeks are flushed, “I just wanna make sure my best guy gets everything he needs, especially when he’s ill. ‘S not a crime, is it?” he pouts.
“It’s not,” Bucky says fondly, “as long as you hug me after you make me soup. I missed you.”
“I can do that, I missed you too,” Steve smiles.
He presses a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips and then heads into the kitchen. He has some food to prepare and then it’s time for cuddles. Aside from Bucky being ill, it’s pretty much how he planned to spend his evening anyway.