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The Rest Don't Matter

Summary:

WinterShield Bingo - I2: Kobik
Stucky Bingo 2020 - A1: Innocence
Seasons of Ships Challenge - Spring: Sickfic
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Steve can’t help but to steal a glance down to the hallway, to the closed door of Bucky and Tony’s room. He sits for a second, but for all he knows it could’ve been minutes or hours. He sits and considers that maybe… maybe he has fallen in love with his best friends.

Notes:

“When the bones are good, the rest don't matter
Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter
Let it break 'cause you and I remain the same”
- Maren Morris, When the Bones Are Good

 

A/N: A sequel to a WI fic I wrote, When the Bones Are Good. This can be read as a standalone I think, with endgame Stuckony, and it was inspired by sreppub's recent Pepperhony comic which is the cutest thing to ever cute

Also, this got way longer than I first intended it to be, but I hope y'all enjoy it!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Ooh, what’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Bucky hobbles into the kitchen with one of his bed comforters wrapped around his body. He sniffs, tugging it closer around him as he comes to stand beside Steve at the stove. In a muffled voice, the brunet says, “Man, I wish I could smell because that looks delicious.”

    Steve just barely holds himself back from laughing. “It should be,” he replies, giving the pot of soup a good stir. “Ma’s tomato soup and grilled cheese never disappoints.”

    “Stevie, I love you,” Bucky all but moans, leaning his weight against Steve. “You’re a straight-up godsend.”

    “I know,” Steve teases. He brushes his palms over his shirt before reaching up to press the back of his hand against Bucky’s forehead, frowning. “Hmm. You get back to bed, mister, you’re still pretty warm.”

    “I don’t feel that ba—” Bucky sneezes violently into his blanket, grimacing slightly after the third. He rubs his chest, saying, “Okay, fine, you win.”

    Steve rolls his eyes before stepping around his best friend, collecting five bowls from one of the cabinets. He pulls open a drawer, counting out the spoons before ducking below to grab a food tray. Over his shoulder, Steve asks worriedly, “How’s Tony doing? Any better from this morning?”

    Bucky shakes his head, wiping away snot with the inside of his blanket. “Still burning up,” he sniffs, “but he managed to fall asleep finally.”

    “At least,” Steve mutters thoughtfully, sighing loudly. He straightens up and starts to ladle the tomato soup into the bowls, glancing over his shoulder once more. “Seriously, Buck. Go lay down before I carry you there myself.”

    “That a promise?” Bucky responds cheekily, wagging his eyebrows. He pivots on his heel just as Steve makes a lazy kick in his direction, disappearing down the hallway and into the master bedroom.

    In no time at all, Steve has some bowls of soup sitting on the dining table along with a large plate stacked high with grilled cheeses. Two other bowls and sandwiches rest on the food tray that he carries. As he passes the first door in the hall, he nudges it open with his foot, popping his head in to speak to Bucky and Tony’s kids.

    “Food’s on the table,” Steve informs the two, smiling.

    RJ immediately drops the handheld game console in his hands, scurrying off his bed and squeezing between Steve and the doorframe. The seven-year-old gratefully calls over his shoulder, “Thanks, Steve!”

    Kobik finishes coloring something on construction paper before she carefully slides off her bed. “Is that for Daddy and Papa?” she asks, eyes trained on the tray in Steve’s hands. Off of his nod, she adds, “I drew a Get Better Soon card for them!”

    “I’m sure they’ll adore it, Kob.” Steve’s smile widens, and he kneels down enough for the five-year-old to place it on the tray. He nods back to the kitchen then. “Why don’t you go grab a seat and dig in, huh?”

    Kobik nods vigorously, brushing back her messy, white hair from her face. “Okay! Thanks, Uncle Steve.”

    He watches her zoom down to the kitchen, chuckling under his breath as he makes his way to the master across the hall. Steve knocks lightly before turning the knob, gently pushing the door open. There is a huge lump under the covers in the shape of Tony, moving up and down with every breathy snore that he takes. Bucky is sitting up on the bed, still smothered in the comforter, but his eyes dart to Steve’s form before returning to the television playing on a low volume.

    “Is that lunch in bed?” Bucky gasps in faux surprise. “Stevie, you spoil us.”

    “It’s more to keep you away from getting the kids sick, but sure,” Steve shoots back with a smug grin. He places the tray over Bucky’s lap, who wiggles his arm out from under the comforter to reach for a spoon. Steve then takes one of the bowls and sandwiches in hand, placing it on the bedside table on Tony’s side of the bed.

    Bucky half pays attention to the show he’s watching, tracking Steve has he disappears into their en suite bathroom to wet a hand towel with cold water before returning to Tony, who’s still snoring away. Steve slowly sits at the edge of the mattress, pulling the sheets back so he can feel Tony’s heated skin. A furrow in his brow is all Bucky sees as Steve presses the towel to Tony’s forehead, neck, and joints.

    Steve notices Bucky staring from the corner of his eye, and he turns to look at him as he pats the towel into the crook of Tony’s arm. “Do I have something on my face, pal?”

    Bucky shakes his head, smiling, and then spoons a mouthful of tomato soup past his lips. “Just remembering how me and your mom used to do that to you all the time when you got sick.”

    “Well. It was about time I returned the favor; don’t you think?” Steve readjusts the towel, folding it in half before carefully placing it across Tony’s forehead. He stills when Tony blinks his eyes open, searching for a moment before landing on Steve’s.

    “…thanks, Cap,” Tony croaks out, turning slowly to lean into Steve’s touch. His lips very lightly brush the inside of Steve’s wrist, and then he falls asleep again before Steve can find his breath. Steve clears his throat, telling Bucky to give him a shout if they need him again, and makes his way to the kitchen.

    RJ and Kobik are both stuffing their faces with the grilled cheese sandwiches when Steve sits down with his own serving. “The soup is so good,” RJ marvels through a mouthful, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

    Kobik groans in disgust, throwing a look in her brother’s direction. “RJ, Daddy said never to—”

    “I can talk with my mouth full if I wanna,” RJ cuts her off, chewing with his mouth wide open.

    “RJ…” Steve raises a brow at his godson, managing to hide his smirk when the kid shrinks in his seat.

    “Sorry, Uncle Steve.”

    “Ooh! Are Daddy and Papa doing better?” Kobik pulls the crust from her sandwich before plopping it into her mouth, almost bouncing in her seat.

    “Resting. They’ll probably feel a lot better soon, thanks to your card, kiddo,” Steve says, smiling when Kobik beams in delight.

    “Uncle Steve, I have a question,” she starts, leaning her chin on a resting hand.

    “I might have an answer.”

    “Why don’t you have a wedding ring like Daddy and Papa do?”

    Steve stops mid-chew, blinking at Kobik. He quickly swallows, brows knitting together. “It’s because I’m not married to anyone, sweetheart.”

    “Yeah, you are,” Kobik argues. “To Daddy and Papa.”

    “What?” Steve squawks intelligently. “Kob, that’s not how — We’re not married.”

    “Then, what are the rings for?”

    “Your dads are married, just not to me,” he tries to explain to the wide-eyed child. “Why would you even think that?”

    Kobik shrugs, twirling her soup spoon in the bowl. “Because Papa always tells you he loves you, and he calls you ‘sweet-cheeks’ and ‘honey’ and ‘Stevie’, and you hate it when other people do that.”

    Steve stammers, “Bucky… yeah, okay, but it’s—”

    RJ chimes in, pointing his half-eaten sandwich in Steve’s direction. “Dad’s always talking about how much he admires your workout routine and wishes you’d get your head out of your ass.”

    “RJ, watch your language! Where did you even learn that?”

    “From Dad. Duh.”

    Kobik clambers up to her knees, leaning her hands over the table. “And you’re standing with them in their wedding photos!”

    Steve sighs, “I just officiated for them—”

    “And you and Papa and Daddy are the only ones allowed to pick us up from school,” RJ points out, “just like the other married parents do with their kids.”

    “That doesn’t mean—”

    “And Papa said you’re a good kisser!” Kobik shouts.

    Steve’s jaw drops, scandalized. His voice goes high in his throat as he questions, “He told you about high school?”

    “You love them, right?” Kobik prods then, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

    His answer is immediate: “Of course I do.”

    “But don’t you love love them?”

    Steve can’t help but to steal a glance down to the hallway, to the closed door of Bucky and Tony’s room. He sits for a second, but for all he knows it could’ve been minutes or hours. He sits and considers that maybe… maybe he has fallen in love with his best friends.

~*~*~*~

It’s three weeks later when Steve finds himself watching Shrek 2 for the umpteenth time. Tony’s clattering around in the kitchen, noisily trying to heat up some more popcorn while RJ is scooping ice cream into a bowl. Kobik sits in his lap, enamored with the film even after seeing it almost weekly, making comments about the characters that Steve is more than happy to smile and nod to.

    He lays with his back to Bucky’s front, feeling contentment seep into his bones as Bucky continues to card nimble fingers through his hair. When Tony returns to his spot beside Steve and Bucky, he starts throwing fresh popcorn at the screen over some unfounded complaint but settles down in order to slip his hand into Steve’s.