Work Text:
captain is sick, there’s no doubt about it.
he feels like utter shit when he wakes up, blearily blinking and trying to clear the haze in his eyes. his head feels heavy, as if there’s a thick fog that clouds his head, and sitting up makes him feel worse, a previously unnoticed dull ache in the back of his head crescendoing into a sharp spike of pain. amber sunlight shines through an uncovered window, and he averts his gaze, sluggishly twisting his body away from the harsh light that grates at his vision. even moving makes him feel nauseous. his throat tickles; there’s a sour taste in his mouth that won’t go away, no matter how hard he swallows.
nevertheless, he can’t afford to rest at the current moment - he’s got a job to do, so as much as he wants to curl back up and fall asleep again, he isn’t going to. he pushes himself up, leaning against the wall until he steadies himself, reaching for his discarded helmet and tugging it on haphazardly.
he dresses as quickly as he can [it takes a while, since he stumbles and almost falls multiple times, his movements slow and sluggish], tugs his boots onto his feet and fumbles with the laces, tying them as best he can before he shuffles outside, wincing at the harsh light that overtakes his vision.
god, fuck the sun. the sun has no rights as of now.
gunshots ring out in the distance, echoing and loud to captain’s tired brain, and he tugs his gun out from its holster, moving maybe a little too quickly - he stumbles over nothing, a splitting pain erupting in the front of his head as he hits the ground harshly.
he lays there, unmoving except for heavy pants and loud, hacking coughs that force their way painfully out of his throat. he’s both lucky and unlucky that no one is around currently - lucky in the sense that they’d probably force him to go to sleep, and unlucky in the sense that there’s no one around to help him.
he spasms once, twice, swallows down the remaining coughs that threaten to come up from his aching throat, and heaves in a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling unsteadily. his body aches, but he can’t give in to the sickness yet, refuses to let whatever illness he’s somehow come down with get the best of him. he rises to his feet unsteadily, faltering in his reluctant movements, pushes himself up and stumbles forward, ready to join the fight. the sun beats down on bits of exposed skin, soaking through the black fabric of his uniform, and he feels hot, too hot, as if his blood is boiling.
steve waves him over, and unfocused eyes fix on steve’s blurry figure. it feels as if his body is moving on autopilot, out of his control. he’s sweating underneath his uniform, tired aches wracking his body, but he stands beside steve nonetheless, aiming his gun unsteadily at the enemy.
“woah, hey, captain!” steve greets him, and his voice is loud to captain’s ears, cutting through the thick, stuffy haze that clouds his mind. “how are you? you were pretty late out here today,”
captain winces. he feels bad now, leaving his team to fight without him. “fine,” he croaks softly, clears his throat and tries again. “i’m fine, stevie. i guess i overslept or something, didn’t mean to leave you guys out here by yourselves.”
steve glances at him sideways, brows furrowing visibly through the clear lenses of his visor, and captain frowns. “are you ok, cap? you don’t sound well.”
ah, yeah. he knew that was coming. steve is more observant than anyone else, even though he may not seem that way - he’s good at reading people, knowing when something is out of the ordinary, especially when it comes to the people he tends to surround himself with. he shrugs and fires at an enemy, not trusting his voice at the current moment; there’s a lingering tickle in the back of his throat, a clipped cough slipping from his bitten lips, and steve looks back over at him, concern much evident in steve’s gentle voice.
“uh- captain? are you- sure you’re alright?” the words swim in captain’s ears, not quite registering in his mind. he’s half aware he’s swaying on his feet, and he tries his best to centre his balance so he doesn’t fall over; he doesn’t need steve to worry about him, he needs to do his job. his head is spinning, though - everything is too hot, his vision is unfocused and blurry, bubbles of black spotting his sight, it’s too hot, he’s lightheaded and unsteady, everything is spinning-
he sits upright, bathed in harsh, blinding lights that make his eyes ache and his head throb violently. the first thing he notices when he comes to is that he’s not on the battlefield anymore, instead resting on top of unfamiliar sheets, the faint smell of lemon and chamomile wafting through the air. he takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands, blinking away a haze that covers his vision.
“really- uh, really gave me a scare there, cap’,” steve mutters from beside him, and he attempts to push himself up, though a strong hand placed gently on his shoulder moves him back into his previous position. “you passed out in front of us, man. why didn’t you tell us you were sick?”
captain breathes in, coughs violently, bits of phlegm landing in his hands, and steve grimaces, his nose wrinkling up in disgust as he reaches for a box of tissues and hands one to the sick man. “it’s not that bad-”
“bullshit and you know it. you passed out, try telling me that isn’t bad.” steve takes off his helmet and places it to the side, sitting on the bed next to captain. his brows are furrowed, concern very much evident in the way he looks at captain, and he brushes his hair from his face, placing a hand on top of captain’s. “you’ve got a fever, and being outside in the heat didn’t help.”
captain averts his gaze guiltily. “sorry, stevie, i just- didn’t want you guys to worry. we were busy doing other shit, more important shit, i didn’t wanna just leave you guys there without me, y’know?” steve chuckles quietly, brushing captain’s long curls from his face and gazing into gold-hazel eyes.
“your health is important, too, dipshit. you’re too stubborn for your own good sometimes.” he huffs out, brushing a kiss against captain’s overheated forehead. “made you some tea, if you want it. might help with the sore throat and all that shit.” captain shrugs, and steve reluctantly stands, squeezing captain’s hand before he leaves the room.
captain sighs and relaxes against the pillow, taking a deep breath in before he’s cut off by another cough, pressing a hand against his chest and sitting up. the new position helps soothe the ache in his lungs, if only for a brief moment, and he rubs his eyes, exhaustion settling heavily in his sore muscles. steve steps back in a moment later, two steaming mugs in his hands, his hair is tied back into a messy ponytail and he looks stressed, worry lines lingering ever so clearly in his face.
it makes him feel bad, seeing steve so distraught over him. “thanks,” he mutters quietly, taking one of the mugs from his hands, fingers brushing against the discoloured patch of skin that loos suspiciously like a heart on steve’s hand. he stares down into the liquid for a brief moment before he takes a sip, the lingering scent of apples filling his nose as he drinks. steve sits back down, drinking out of his own cup, and a blanket of silence spreads across the room.
captain sniffles. steve’s eyes blink up to his face, and captain can’t help but snort as the taller man glares at him through the corners of his eyes. “sorry for worrying you, sunshine.” he croaks out quietly.
steve reaches out, gently brushes his fingertips against captain’s cheeks, waiting until he leans into the touch to cup his face. steve has always been somewhat physically affectionate, which doesn’t bother captain at all, but it is always a nice surprise when it’s just the two of them, when captain can drink in every bit of steve’s expression and memorise the feeling of steve’s fingers against his skin.
“don’t apologise for worrying me, dummy,” steve replies, placing his cup down on his bedside table and leaning into touch his forehead to captain’s, “just.. don’t do shit like that again. i would rather have to take care of a sick captain than bury a dead one, y’know?” captain swallows and nods, leans in and brushes a kiss against steve’s cheek.
“the sentiment goes both ways.” he flicks steve’s forehead, laughing at the indignant cry that slips from steve’s lips. he pulls the other man down onto the bed beside him, wrapping his arms around him and placing his own half-empty cup next to steve’s. “maybe if you give me cuddles, i’ll feel better.” he grins cheekily.
steve groans, but relaxes next to him nonetheless, pulling captain closer by his waist. “you’re insufferable.”
“and you’re gay.” steve chuckles, rubbing captain’s back soothingly. he doesn’t feel like absolute death anymore, and he’s glad that steve is here with him - the small gesture means more to captain than he’d ever voice aloud. “you sure you wanna stay here? i don’t want you getting sick.” he asks, coughing softly.
steve shrugs beside him. “ahh, i don’t care. i don’t get sick easily, either way.”
[spoiler alert - he lied.]