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“Does Tony seem sick to you?” Bucky asked one morning after Tony had left the kitchen, unable to tamp down his worry.
True, Tony had just come out of his workshop from pulling yet another all-nighter, but he’d looked especially tired and pale this morning, and the small smile he’d given Bucky over his mug had looked forced, and held none of his usual spark.
“He does look a bit… run down, doesn’t he?” Steve agreed, thoughtfully eyeing the doorway Tony had just exited.
‘Run down’ was a bit of an understatement, in Bucky’s opinion, but he nodded, relieved that someone else had noticed.
“He’s been like that for at least a week, maybe longer. And he hasn’t been talking as much as he usually does, either.” Bucky said, tapping his fingers against the table in agitation.
“I’d say closer to two weeks, actually.,” Natasha corrected, frowning. “He was throwing up that night he came home from the charity gala last week, but I’d assumed it was just a bad hangover.”
Both Steve and Bucky startled. “That long?” Steve asked, now looking as worried as Bucky felt.
Natasha nodded, face pensive. “Looking back it had to be more, though... I was there at the gala with him, and he hardly drank anything. Then he left early, and even turned down a woman he’d been shamelessly seducing all evening.”
Bucky swallowed and ignored the little pang that comment gave him. He knew Natasha hadn’t said it to bother him - besides Steve, she was one of the only people who knew the true extent of his feelings for Tony - but is still stung to hear.
“So he’s been sick for two weeks, and hasn’t said anything?” Bucky said tightly, setting aside his feelings for now and clenching his fists.
“Who’s been sick?” Bruce asked as he walked into the room, making a beeline for the cupboard where his tea was kept.
“Tony,” Steve answered, frowning when Bruce went oddly still. “You know anything about it?”
Both Bucky and Natasha’s eyes narrowed suspiciously when Bruce didn’t answer right away, carefully going about making his tea instead.
“He… might have mentioned something to me,” he said finally, shooting a guilty look Bucky’s way, for some reason, and holding a up a hand to quell whatever Steve was about to say. “He asked me not to tell anyone, and so far he’s been - mostly - following my advice and trying to look after himself, so I went along with it.”
“Then why does he still look like crap?” Bucky snapped, unable to keep the accusation out of his tone.
Steve eyes widened, but Bruce just pursed his lips unhappily.
“Probably because he can’t seem to keep anything down.” Bruce grumbled, more to himself than the rest of them, Bucky thought.
“You mean he’s not getting enough to eat?” Steve asked, brow pinched in worry.
“Something like that,” Bruce said cryptically, giving Bucky an unreadable look. He wouldn’t say anything more, though, no matter how much they grilled him, and hastily fled the kitchen with the claim of having a time-sensitive experiment to get back to.
Feeling frustrated, Bucky got up and started to rummage through the cabinets, deciding to make his special chicken soup recipe for Tony’s dinner that evening.
The way Tony’s face lit up when he was presented with a bowl had Bucky vowing to make more, entire vats and every day if he had to, so long as Bucky could see that smile again.
A few weeks later, though, it became abundantly clear that all the soup in the world wasn’t going to fix whatever was wrong with Tony.
“We have to do something,” Bucky told Steve angrily, when he could no longer ignore how pale Tony had gotten, or how thin and wane he looked. “He can’t carry on like this. He looks like he’s halfway to the grave, Steve!”
Steve grimaced and nodded, his jaw clenching in a way that Bucky knew meant he’d struck a nerve.
“I know,” he muttered darkly, expression troubled. “I’ve tried bringing it up to him, but he shuts me down every time I do. And when I ask Bruce about it he just says it’s Tony’s business, and that he won’t betray his trust.”
Bucky gritted his teeth. “Betray his trust?! Stevie, something is wrong . He won’t eat, he’s barely sleeping, he’s-”
“He’s a grown man, Buck. If he won’t admit something’s wrong there’s not a lot I can do about it.” Steve huffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“You’re team leader - bench him!” Bucky snapped, slamming his hands on the table. “He’s in no condition to fight anyway. He’s going to get himself killed out there!”
Steve sighed. “Tony-”
“Is more than capable of taking care of himself, thank you.” said a familiar voice, anger coloring his tone.
Steve winced, but Bucky - too worked up to care - rounded on Tony, who glared back, his arms crossed and leaning against the doorway. The angry set of Tony’s jaw made his face look even more gaunt than usual, which soured Bucky’s mood even more.
“I’d believe that more if you actually were,” Bucky told him, crossing his own arms. “We aren’t stupid. Have you even been to a doctor about this? And don’t you dare say Bruce, because I’ve had it up to here with your secret science conspirators club-”
Tony’s eyes flashed. “That’s none of your damn business.” he spat, straightening up and pushing himself away from the doorway.
“The hell it isn’t!” Bucky snarled, then darted forward when Tony stumbled. Steve beat him to it, though, reaching out and steadying Tony with a hand on his shoulder.
“Tony, we’re worried about you. We just want to help,” Steve said soothingly, giving Tony’s shoulder a squeeze. Bucky didn’t miss the way Tony flinched, and couldn’t tell if it was from Steve’s words or his touch. “You’d want to do the same for one of us, if the situation were reversed.”
Tony scowled and looked down at his feet. “It’s nothing you can help with,” he mumbled, refusing to make eye-contact with Steve.
Bucky’s stomach plummeted. “Tony, please.” he said softly, shoulders sagging. “You’re scaring m- us.”
Tony’s eyes darted over to Bucky, glinting with an emotion Bucky couldn’t place. “I…”
Which was, of course, when the Avengers alarm went off.
It didn’t matter what Bucky or Steve said, or how loudly they said it; ten minutes later, the entire team - including Iron Man - were battling a giant amphibian that either wanted to eat or mate with the Empire State Building, and Bucky wasn’t the least bit happy about it.
Especially when it became apparent the monster liked shiny, flying things even more than it liked the Empire State Building.
“Well, I caught its attention,” Tony said unnecessarily into the comms, looping around the thing to avoid a swipe from one of its legs. Bucky could hear how breathless he sounded, and knew the others had to have noticed it, too.
Steve confirmed it a second later with his new orders. “Iron Man, fall back.” he said tightly. “Falcon, swing in closer and see if you can distract it until Thor gets into position.”
“Really, Cap? You sure you want the guy without the armor playing chicken with this thing’s limbs?” Tony asked, though he did start hovering out of the creature’s reach, to Bucky’s relief.
“Tony-” Steve started, but was cut off by Sam’s shout of “Watch out!”
Bucky tensed as the creature jumped and took a swing at Tony, then let out a relieved sigh when Tony darted sideways, dodging it, and gave Sam a jaunty little salute in thanks.
Neither Sam nor Tony saw the thing start to swing its tail down, and by the time Bucky had cried out, it was too late.
Almost as if it were happening in slow motion, Bucky watched as the blow caught Tony right in the chest, knocking him out of the sky and straight into the ground, the concrete around his body cracking on impact. Tony’s comm gave out just as he hit the pavement, cutting off his sharp cry, and before he could even think about it Bucky was running and leaping out of his perch. He could hear people yelling over the comms, but couldn’t tell what they were saying over the roaring in his ears, so he ignored them.
It took less than a minute to get to where Tony had fallen, but to Bucky it felt like hours. Still, somehow Steve had gotten there before him, and was already pulling off Tony’s faceplate, shouting orders to the others and asking JARVIS questions in turn. Bucky dropped to his knees beside him, vaguely registering a clap of thunder and the creature’s screams from somewhere behind them, but too panicked to really care.
“S-Steve…?” Bucky choked, while Steve frantically tried to check Tony’s pulse, his face ashen.
Steve swallowed and froze, his eyes going wide under the cowl, and looked over at Bucky in horror.
“No,” Bucky whispered, taking in the devastation in Steve’s expression. “No no no, it’s not, he can’t be-” He shoved Steve’s hand away and pressed his own into the helmet, feeling his chest constrict when he couldn’t find a pulse.
Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, but Bucky didn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything besides the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as he stared down at Tony’s still face.
“He can’t, I didn’t…” Bucky mumbled numbly, then moved his fingers up from Tony’s still pulse to brush against his pale cheek. He hadn’t even gotten to tell Tony how he felt about him, hadn’t ever gotten to kiss him, or, or -
The last thing he’d done to Tony was yell at him and tell him to stay home. The knowledge made Bucky’s throat close up in a sob.
Steve pulled his cowl back, face pinched in misery. “Bucky…”
“I never got to tell him I love him,” Bucky gasped, trembling and holding his metal arm against his middle, like he could somehow keep the grief from spilling out. “I didn’t-”
He bent down and kissed Tony’s forehead, then his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, stroking Tony’s face again and then kissing the place where his fingers had been. “I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time earlier, I just-” He sucked in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “I love you.” he said, bowing his head and leaning against Steve when he moved closer.
“Bucky,” Steve choked, and then Bucky felt a hand - a cool, metal-encased hand - brush against the side of his neck. Bucky jerked back and looked down, breath catching as he found a pair of brown eyes staring back at him, clouded over in pain but crinkled in a smile.
“T-took you long enough,” Tony gasped with a wince, moving his hand to cup Bucky’s face. “A-and, uh, me, too. You couldn’t have said anything sooner?”
Steve made an odd noise - like a choked off laugh - but Bucky ignored him, too caught up in his own emotions to care.
“You, you didn’t have a pulse,” Bucky said dumbly, reaching up and cradling Tony’s hand against his face.
“And now I do,” Tony replied, trying to push himself to a sitting position despite Steve and Bucky’s hands pressing him back down. “Can I have another kiss?” he added hopefully, giving in and lying back. “Only, you know, on the mouth this time?”
Bucky laughed, practically collapsed against Tony in relief, and complied.
It was an hour, a lot of shouting, a rather awkward explanation, a lot more shouting, and a trip to medical before Bucky and Tony were finally alone.
Bucky was still feeling rather flustered from the whole experience, partially due to his confession - and the discovery that the entire team had heard it, since he’d never turned his comm off - but mostly because of the awkward explanation (which included the words “Oh, by the way, I’m not really human.”).
“So,” Bucky said, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. “You’re telling me you’re a, a, a-”
“Incubus,” Tony finished helpfully, and tried to pull the IV Bruce had attached to his arm just before he’d booked it out of there. Bucky grabbed his hand before he could, trapping it between his own and giving it a squeeze without a second thought.
“A… sex… demon.” Bucky clarified, swallowing thickly.
“Incubus is still the technical term, but, yes.” Tony replied, staring down at their conjoined hands in fascination.
“And you were so sick because you were… hungry?” Bucky added hoarsely, feeling a prickle of heat creeping up the back of his neck.
“Well… yeah. Something like that,” Tony agreed, grimacing, and finally looking back up to meet Bucky’s eyes. Bucky was surprised to see a splash of color in his cheeks, a light pink that complimented the healthy glow that was slowly coming back to his complexion.
Before he could think better of it, Bucky reached out and ran the back of his hand against Tony’s cheek, watching with interest as Tony’s flush deepened. He then dropped his hand, feeling guilty at Tony’s look of disappointment but knowing he couldn’t afford the distraction, not when he still had so many questions.
“Okay, so. This might be a stupid question, but… why didn’t you just… eat?” Bucky asked, clearing his throat and leaning back against his chair.
Tony squirmed uncomfortably, gaze going back to Bucky’s hand around his and face going impossibly redder.
“I, uh, couldn’t.” he confessed, and didn’t say anything more.
Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Because…?”
Tony sighed, but still wouldn’t meet Bucky’s eyes.
“When I was young, before I… manifested, my mother warned me about, about falling in love.” He stumbled over the last part, fidgeting even more and chancing a glance at Bucky’s face. “It makes it… difficult, to feed from other people. People we don’t, uh, have feelings for.”
Bucky’s breath hitched as the implications of those words hit him.
“You couldn’t - you couldn’t feed because you were in love with me?” he choked, stunned.
Tony shrugged helplessly. “No. I mean, I still could , technically. It just would have felt…” He squeezed Bucky’s hand back, and gave him a sad, vulnerable little smile. “Wrong.”
Bucky took a deep breath, not knowing if he wanted to strangle Tony or kiss him again.
“Let me get this straight: You were willing to starve because you had feelings for me, and couldn’t bear to screw around with anyone else?” Bucky demanded, gripping Tony’s hand tighter and leaning into Tony’s personal space.
“Uh, well… yes.” Tony said meekly, looking up at Bucky uncertainly.
Bucky responded by cupping the back of Tony’s neck, yanking him closer, and kissing him breathless.
“Later, we’re going to have a good, long talk about taking care of yourself, and sharing your problems with the people who care about you.” Bucky growled when they broke apart, arranging them so they could both lie down on Tony’s bed without dislodging the IV line. “Now, though…” He pressed his thumbs against the sensitive skin just under Tony’s ears, eliciting a shiver. “Now, we’re going to make sure you get a good, filling meal. Alright?”
Tony nodded frantically, eyes wide. “O-okay,” he squeaked, before smashing his lips against Bucky’s again.
It was the last comprehensive word Bucky heard from him that evening.