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"'M really fine."
"No, you're not."
"I can work like this, you know."
"No, you can't."
"I just need to work on some stuff, Steve! You know how it is-"
"No, you won't."
Tony was pouting with a vengeance, but it was kind of rendered pointless by the fact that he was coughing every other minute. They had already called Bruce, and after taking his temperature and asking about other symptoms, he had concluded that he had contracted the common flu. He had looked fondly exasperated when he told them it was most likely caused by a lack of proper rest and the rather unsanitary sight his workshop made, alongside his already lowered immune system thanks to the position of the arc reactor. A little rest and a steady stream of fluids would have him back on his feet in no time, according to the doctor. So they were both gathering everything they would need to take proper care of Tony. Steve had muttered about how awful of a patient Tony was, and Bucky had merely snorted and told him that he had no right to say anything of the sort.
Tony rolled over, burrowing into the bedding. He had to admit that he felt pretty shitty. His head hurt, his throat was scratchy, and every movement made his stomach churn uncomfortably. But of course, because he was a Stark, he continued to bitch about what he could be doing with the time he was taking laying in bed. Bucky had told him that if he was fine, he should really get on the paperwork Coulson had left for him to look over. Tony had muttered what sounded like and most likely was a pointed 'fuck that', and stayed quiet for a few minutes afterwards. But of course it wasn't going to be that simple.
"I don't think so."
"Tony-"
"Look, Buck. I am a grown ass man, and I reserve the right to refuse to drink that disgusting-mph!"
He gagged as he involuntarily swallowed the orange flavored concoction Bucky had shoved in his mouth. He sent a glare Bucky's way, and Bucky merely raised an eyebrow in return. He had figured that Tony wouldn't comply, and so he chose the alternative route. He had taken care of Steve, for crying out loud. He was used to mouthy punks who insisted they were fine. Tony had nothing on Steve. So he merely handed Tony the glass of water he had brought with him, which he gulped down to wash out his mouth.
They decided it would be a good idea for Tony to clean the sweat off of himself with a bath, and that the steam would help with his congestion. Tony was silent for a good long while, before nodding minutely. Steve felt a pang of sympathy for what was obviously a vulnerable side of Tony and a deep flare of anger for those who put it there. After helping him strip, he picked him up gently, and carried him to the bathroom where Bucky had already ran a bath. Making sure to whisper near-silent endearments and encouragements as he slowly lowered him into the water, he placed him in the tub. He left Bucky to watch over him, and jogged to their bedroom to retrieve fresh clothes. He grabbed a pair of Bucky's sweatpants, one of his shirts and a pair of Tony's own boxers and returned to the bathroom. Bucky had helped Tony wash up, and he chuckled at Tony's bitter muttering.
"'M not an invalid."
"Never said you were, darling."
"Yeah. Just because you're sick doesn't make you any less successful, brave, or capable."
"So if I were to ask to put on the suit-"
"I'd still say no, but nice try."
The deep pout was back, but as least he sounded less nasally. He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open, and Bucky was reminded of an angry, sleepy kitten. The medication did as promised, and within minutes Tony was fast asleep. Steve and Bucky left the room, closing the door softly behind them.
"We should make some soup while he's out. It'll be ready by the time he wakes up."
"Sure thing."
So that's how Bucky found himself chopping up whatever vegetables Steve pushed in front of him. Steve was a whirlwmind, and Bucky had a flashback of Sarah Rogers doing the same thing when Steve was out of commission.
"I swear, he's going to fall out one of these days. He doesn't understand his body's limits-"
"Neither did you. You had a laundry list of ailments that our Tony doesn't, and you kept harassing the enlistment officials."
Steve's cheeks burned at the memory. He did remember being the scrawny little runt who couldn't take no for an answer. Bucky motioned at him with the knife.
"Don't you give him too hard of a time, Stevie. Because I know another punk who was just as adamant that he wasn't going to just lay down like he should."
Steve gave a muttered 'jerk' in return, but didn't argue against his words. The companionable silence lasted until JARVIS spoke to them.
'Captain Rogers, Sargeant Barnes; sir has awoken. It might interest you to go and check in on him.'
Steve looked nervously at the pot on the stove. Bucky just waved him off.
"I'll go check on him. Just watch the soup."
Steve gave him a grateful smile, and Bucky made his way over to the bedroom. It was truly amazing how petulant Tony could look while curled up in a blanket burrito. Only his face and a small tuft hair was visible, the rest of him swaddled in their sheets. His narrowed eyes dared Bucky to say one word about his current position. He wisely chose not to comment.
"Are you hungry?"
"... A little."
"We made you soup."
"Chicken?"
"With vegetable."
"Aw. Coffee?"
"Don't even, dollface."
Tony merely huffed, so it was obvious that he wasn't really attempting to convince him. Shot in the dark, more like.
Steve brought in three bowls of the soup, and they all squished together to watch some pointless movie Tony had asked to watch in a an effort to stay awake. It was a moot point, however, because about thirty to forty minutes in, he was dead to the world yet again. Laying him down in a more comfortable position, and placing the empty bowl on the nightstand, the two supersoldiers each kissed his forehead and leaned back to watch the series of cheesy explosions until they fell asleep as well, Tony comfortably snuggled between them.
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