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“Steve?” Nat’s voice is loud, but barely louder than the background noise.
“Hey.” Steve croaks into the phone, still half asleep.
“Steve?” She shouts again as if she didn’t hear him.
“Nat?” He says louder this time, pushing himself up and rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, it’s Bucky.”
At that Steve sits up straighter, the sleep vanishing from his body in an instant.
“He’s drunk.”
“Am not.” Someone slurs in the background, Bucky.
“Yes, you are. He knows he can’t get drunk, but Thor offered some of his liquor and Bucky stupidly thought it wouldn’t work because it didn’t work on you, so now he’s absolutely shitfaced.” She almost sounds a little frantic as she rambles.
“Where are you?” Steve is already up, holding the phone is place between his Boulder and ear while he pulls on the first clothes he can find.
“Tony’s. For the party, remember?”
How could he forget? Steve had been there himself a few hours ago. Bucky had looked so happy as he talked and laughed with the other, Steve didn’t want to drag him away just because he was tired. Nat promised to take care of him.
“Right. I’m on my way.” He grabs his keys and rushes to the garage.
“You should hurry.” Nat says at the same time as Bucky screams something unintelligible in the background.
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Steve promises before he hangs up. Nat is with Bucky, but Steve can’t get there fast enough.
He speeds as much as he can while still driving safely. Luckily the streets are almost empty at this time of night.
Pulling up to the tower, he just leaves the car on the sidewalk and sprints for the front door. He can see Nat standing on the other side of the floor to ceiling windows and when he gets closer, he can make out Bucky spread out on the floor.
“Steve.” Nat says, voice full of relief when he approaches them.
“Ste’e?” Bucky’s head lifts from the floor, and when he sees Steve, he rolls onto his side and tries to get up. His limbs are uncoordinated and clumsy, and he can’t seem to let go of the floor without falling back down. “Y’re ‘ere!” He exclaims.
“Hey Buck.” Steve can’t help but go soft at Bucky’s smile. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are sparkling, making him look so soft.
“We need to get him home.” Nat pipes in, reminding Steve why he’s here.
“I don’t think he can walk.” Steve comments and Bucky’s face immediately changes into a stubborn frown.
“C’n too.” He tries to let go of the floor again, balance only relying on his legs. For a moment he looks triumphant as he stands on his own, then he moves his eyes and stumbles. Steve catches him before he falls. Bucky says something Steve thinks is supposed to be ‘knight in shining armor’.
“And you’re my damsel in distress.”
Bucky frowns with an adorable pout for a moment before he shrugs as if saying ‘fair’.
“Can you walk if we hold you up or do I need to carry you to the car?” Steve asks even though he’s already booking his arm under Bucky to support him. It’s been a while, but he still remembers how to take care of drunk Bucky, also called incredibly stubborn Bucky.
“‘M not a baby.” He insists, so Steve and Nat hold him up and acts as his legs on the short walk to the car. They manage to get him into the backseat without bumping his head.
“I’ll stay with him.” Nat says when she sees him looking conflicted. She slides into the backseat after Bucky and tries to get him to sit up so she can put on his seatbelt. He keeps shouting about the seatbelt strangling him when she pulls it over his chest, so she finally gives up. He’s a super soldier, he’ll be fine.
“Has he thrown up yet?” Steve asks once they’re back on the road. No doubt the Asgardian liquor will make a reappearance. Steve would rather it be sooner than later, just not in his car.
“No.” Nat says flatly. She has the same thought as Steve.
“Need ta tell ya som’thin.” Bucky says slowly, clearly focusing on forming the words. A quick look in the mirror tells Steve he’s talking to him.
“Anything, Bucky, you know that.” Steve goes soft again. Even though Bucky won’t remember any of this in the morning, he feels like the old Bucky. The one who went out dancing and couldn’t say no to a single drink offered to him. The one Steve had to drag home because they couldn’t afford a cab. The one who went soft around the edges, speaking like he’s giving you the universe once he had a few drinks in him. That’s the same Bucky staring lovingly at him now.
“I-” Bucky is cut off by a hiccup. “I love ya.” He says it like it’s a secret, then he turns to Nat and say “You too. Love ya too.”
Even Nat cracks a soft smile at the words. “We love you too Bucky.” She reassures him.
“No.” Bucky waves his arms around as if they don’t get it. “I looove ya.” Then he lays his head on her shoulder and closes his eyes. The car goes quiet for a while. The only sound coming from the engine as yellow streetlights flickers through the car in waves.
“How’re you doing back there?” Steve asks nervously when Bucky hiccups for the third time without saying anything. Silence is never a good sign. Nat seems to catch on and shakes Bucky a little to get his attention.
“Do you feel okay, Bucky?” She is met with a groan and another hiccup. “Do you feel sick?” She asks more directly.
“There should be a bucket back there.” Steve points out, glad he thought of grabbing it in his hurry.
“Got it.” Nat gets it off the floor and holds onto it just in case. Bucky seems to be asleep.
“What happened?” Steve asks, wanting to understand what happened in the couple hours he was asleep. Bucky was fine when Steve left, didn’t even want a beer even though it wouldn’t affect him.
“I told you, he thought he couldn’t get drunk on-”
“No, I know.” He cuts her off. “But why did he start drinking in the first place?”
Nat makes a sound Steve knows well. She knows what she says next will cause Steve to put the blame on himself.
“After you left,” She hesitates. “He kind of- wilted. Said he wanted to feel normal. Do things normal people do, things he used to do.”
She was right. Steve does blame himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should’ve been there for Bucky when the midnight blues set in.
“So, he wanted to get drunk?”
“I don’t know. He kept saying it wouldn’t work and drinking more. Wouldn’t even admit he was tipsy until he was slurring.”
“Shit.” Steve says to himself more than anything.
“Hey, I know what you’re doing Rogers. This is not your fault. Barnes is responsible for himself.” She is stern, yet soft as she says exactly the right words. How does she always do that?
Bucky seems to wake a little at the mention of his own name. He groans, and Nat must sense something because she mutters a ‘here we go’ before a sound like a bucket being filled by a hose fills the car. Steve winches in sympathy. Asgardian liquor burns like no other, he can only imagine how it feels coming back up.
Bucky takes a gasping breath before the sound repeats.
“Just let it out.” He hears Nat reassure him. They’re only a few blocks from home, so Steve decides to focus on getting them home while Nat comforts Bucky. This time, the sound is wetter when it hits the bucket and Steve feels a little sick just listening to it.
By the time he pulls into the garage, Bucky has stopped puking and is back to resting on Nat’s shoulder.
Getting him from out of the car is a whole new challenge. His limbs seem to have been turned to jelly in the fifteen minutes they’ve been in the car. There’s no way he can hold his own weight up, so his friends have to carry him inside. Steve does most of the lifting, letting Bucky rest his head on his shoulder while they move through the house. Nat keeps a hand on his back for lack of anything more helpful to do.
“Can you get the bucket?” Steve asks her before he forgets that there’s a bucket of puke in his car.
“Sure.” She says, relieved to be able to help.
“And bring it out here after you’ve emptied it. I don’t want him hurting himself in the bathroom.”
“How would he do that?”
“Oh, it wouldn’t be the first time he cracked his head open on the toilet.” Nat laughs, a short, shocked laughter. Steve thinks she wouldn’t be laughing if she was the one who found Bucky bloody, knocked out cold on the bathroom floor. “And bring a towel too.”
Bucky goes willingly onto the couch, sprawling out on his back. Now that Steve can really look at him, he sees how tired he looks. His cheeks are flushed pink from the alcohol, wet eyelashes fanning out over dark curled under his eyes. There’s a tension in his face, even as he looks to be sleeping.
Steve puts the towel Nat brings under Bucky’s head to protect the cushion and pillows from any accidents. Bucky is dead asleep, limp as Steve slips the towel under him. The bucket sits on the floor, ready for being used if the need arises. Hopefully it doesn’t.
They change him into some more comfortable clothes as he’s still wearing his slacks and button up. Bucky stays asleep through the movements, knocked out cold by the alcohol.
“I don’t want to leave him alone.” Steve says shyly when Nat suggests they go to bed. He still gets shy about their love, the period typical homophobia of the forties engrained in his head.
Nat softens, a smile tugging at her lips. “We’ll take shifts watching over him. You need sleep too.”
“I’ll take the first couple hours.” Steve sits down in the armchair by Bucky’s head, leaning over to run his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He looks so peaceful where he lies, even with the troubled thoughts Steve knows went through his head earlier. They will talk about that when Bucky feels better.
“I’ll wake myself up in three hours.” Nat says, suppressing a yawn as she speaks. She knows she can’t trust Steve to wake her up.
“Alright. Good night.”
“Night.” Nat leaves the room, leaving Steve alone with Bucky. He doesn’t feel tired at all, even though he should be.
Steve thrives on being needed and right now Bucky needs him.