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Bucky stared down at his stomach in horror. Truthfully it was barely there, buried under layers of hard muscle, but to him it seemed to just be growing bigger with every bite - and there had been lots of bites. Enough bites to devour half the food in the refrigerator at Stark Towers, and that thing was stocked. After mostly starving for three days, he’d finally binged, filling up his stomach until it ached in under twenty minutes. An overwhelming sense of hunger had taken control of his body until suddenly he’d been in a race against time to get all the food he could into his stomach. Normally, it would be followed with a race to get it back out of it, but Bucky didn’t want to.
He was tired of being sick. He hadn’t purged for three weeks. He’d been doing so well, and he didn’t want to fall back into old habits.
But the urge was so strong. He could practically feel the toothbrush grating against his throat already, and that scared him so fucking much, because he wanted so badly to be recovered. After all the progress he’d made in adapting to life in the twenty-first century, he still couldn’t beat this thing.
It had been the same battle for so many years, ever since he was a chubby 12-year-old in the 1930s, completely obsessed with his new best friend- skinny, perfect Steve Rogers.
“Bucky?” Steve called softly, knocking on the door to the bathroom. “Are you okay? I thought I heard you getting sick in there. Maybe there was something wrong with the mac n’ cheese,” he speculated. Bucky could hear the guilt in Steve’s voice. He choked slightly as the food again left his body. It was the first time he’d ever purged. Next time, he’d have to be more secretive about it.
“No, it was fine,” he rasped as he flushed the toilet. He finally opened the door, refusing to meet Steve’s eyes. “I used to be lactose intolerant when I was younger,” he lied. “It’s probably just flaring up again.” Steve gave a sad smile and lightly punched him on the arm.
“Oh. Well, then, I’ll ask ma to use tomato sauce next time.”
It was the first time Bucky ever lied to Steve. After that incident, he’d learned to turn on the faucet, to catch it in cups he held up to his mouth and then dump it into the toilet.
After the serum, his body was perfect. He thought he would never have to purge again - boy, was he wrong.
“What do you think you are doing?” Bucky flinched, turning away from the refrigerator at the harsh voice, only to be met with the glaring eyes of a HYDRA officer. After eating practically nothing while on a mission for three days, he’d ran straight for one of the heavily stocked refrigerators at headquarters the moment he thought he was alone. He’d thought everyone had gone to sleep.
“I - I’m sorry. I’m done,” he responded, voice breaking. He knew what was coming next.
“The asset is aware that it will not perform optimally on a full stomach,” the officer hissed. “This is why it is fed through the tube. Solid food is for the weak,” he chanted that same old mantra. “Solid food is for the loser. HYDRA is not the loser.” He pulled a bottle of ipecac syrup from his pocket and snapped his fingers, directing Bucky towards the bathroom.
“You know what to do.”
“Solid food is for the weak,” Bucky whispered to himself, repeating that poisonous mantra as he lifted up the toilet seat in Steve’s and his bathroom. “Solid food is for everyone else. Except you. You don’t deserve food. You’re weak, Bucky. You’re not strong enough to resist food. You’re not good enough.”
Tears were running down his cheeks as the toothbrush finally scraped against his throat, the sounds of the toilet flushing repeatedly drowning out his choked sobs.
He sat there in horror for a few moments, shocked at what he’d done. Feeling sick in more ways than one, he finally stood weakly, only to fall on his knees again as his body reeled towards the ground.
He heard the door slamming behind him, heard Steve sigh heartily. Felt his big, strong arms wrap around him from behind.
"Oh, Buck,“ Steve muttered. "Not again.” The disappointment in Steve’s voice made him want to do it all over again. But he couldn’t bear to hurt him anymore.
“I’m so sorry, Steve. You shouldn’t have to see this,” he cried. “I’m so fucking pathetic.” He felt Steve’s arms tighten around him.
“Hey, hey. You are not pathetic,” he assured. “You just made a mistake,” he crooned as he pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead.
Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was another pained sob. He hated this. He hated it, he hated, he hated it. He just wanted it all to stop.
“No more crying, okay? Just try to breathe easy.” Bucky tried his hardest to listen to Steve, to calm himself down. He did the breathing he’d learned at therapy. Steve had signed him up for sessions with a specialist -Lauren- the moment he first saw him purging.
In.
One, two, three, four.
Hold.
One, two, three, four.
Out.
One, two, three, four.
He repeated the process for a few minutes as Steve rubbed circles on his back.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” Steve spoke up after a moment, pressing a kiss to the back of Bucky’s head. “You’re still getting better. It was just a tiny slip-up.” Bucky nodded, though he wasn’t sure. “I’m gonna get you some water, okay?”
Bucky felt weak with the absence of Steve’s arms supporting him, but it was only a moment until they were wrapped around his torso again, pressing a Dixie cup of sink water to his lips. He sipped slowly until he finished the small cup.
“Stevie,” he said with a small sniff as his sobs started to die down a bit. “The urge is still really strong,” he admitted.
“But you won’t throw up,” Steve said firmly. “Because I’ll be right here with you until you leave this room knowing you’re strong enough not to.” Bucky turned around to face Steve for the first time all night, staring into his blue-green eyes, full of love and determination.
“It could take a while,” Bucky warned, and was about to continue but Steve stopped him by kissing his lips, not even caring about the fact that he’d been throwing up not five minutes ago.
“I’ll stay with you all night if I have to,” Steve murmured against Bucky’s lips, pulling away to look him in the eyes, “and that’s a promise. I fucking love you Bucky, and I will do everything in my power to help you beat this thing.”
They stayed like that for a while, Steve just holding Bucky in his arms, until Bucky finally turned around to face him.
“Thanks, Stevie,” he rasped.
“Hey, don’t mention it.” Steve pressed a tender kiss to Bucky’s forehead before standing up and waiting as Bucky brushed his teeth. After finishing, Bucky stared at the toilet for a second before turning back to Steve and allowing him to guide him out of the room.