Work Text:
My lungs are full, I'm sick again. You never simply talk to me.You tell the truth about everything, of all your afflictions.
I'll go anywhere you want but then again, I like this house.You used to be a mystery.
Pain spread through his body as he stood up, moving to unlock the door as Bucky ducked through it. There he stood, before his boyfriend, in his underwear with a blanket thrown over his shoulders and a rubbed-raw nose. His eyes were watering with the pain that was shivering through his body. Bucky’s fingers reached out and brushed a stray hair out of Steve’s face, and Steve leaned into the chill that was on his boyfriend’s fingers.
“Oh, you poor thing.” Bucky whispered, pulling Steve by the hand back to their bedroom in the small two room apartment. The bedroom was separated by a curtain from the kitchen/living room area. “Davey gave me some extra tomatoes, lemme make you some soup or something, darlin’.” He laid Steve down in bed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, moving to the kitchen. As soon as he was back down on the bed, heat rushed over Steve’s body and he kicked off the blanket he’d been holding onto.
“How was work?” He murmured, and by some miracle, Bucky heard him in the other room. He made a noise deep in his throat before responding, and Steve frowned. “That bad?”
“No, just this one guy kept pressing me about why we lived together. Got all up in my business before Davey and Ole’ Jacky told ‘im off.” Bucky sighed and the sound of a pot scraping over the fire of the stove filled Steve’s ringing ears. Bucky sighed again and Steve stood up from bed and walked up to his boyfriend in the bathroom. He dropped his forehead onto Bucky’s arm, and Bucky frowned down at him. “You should be lyin’ down.”
“You’re so cold.” Steve whispered instead, and Bucky walked over to open a window. Steve stood by it for a long time, enjoying the breeze, before he began swaying at the energy it took to stand up. Buck strode over and picked up Steve, holding him bridal style and carrying him over to the bed again. This time he laid him down and left for only a moment before he returned with a bowl of soup. How long had Steve been standing by the window?
“Bucky-”
“I will hear nothing from you, Stevie.” Bucky responded, holding up a spoon and blowing on it before he held it out for Steve to sip, which Steve did, with a frown on his face.
“I just feel bad that you gotta take care of me all the time. One day, I’ll be better all the time. You just watch.”
“I like you like this, darlin’. Believe me.” Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead, another to his nose, and then he took another spoonful of the soup and blew on it.
“Here, sip, baby.”
Steve stirred the soup in the pot and thought about Bucky. The last time he saw Buck, before they fell out of the sky and someone saved him from the water, was burned into his mind as he picked up the wooden spoon and pulled it through the boiling tomatoes. The last time he’d had tomato soup Bucky had made it in the dark of their apartment when Steve had been ill with the newest worst sickness. Bucky always curled into bed with him no matter how sick Steve was, and now, Steve was blurry-eyed making soup, thinking of his lost friend. Lost boyfriend.
“You’re sick again?”
Steve whirled around and saw Bucky standing there, looking concerned at him. Bucky’s hand landed on his gun when Steve let out a small squeal, but Steve gathered his wits quickly and raised his hands, wooden spoon included. “Sorry. Sorry, you just shocked me.”
“You’re sick?”
“Oh, no, I’m not. I just wanted to make soup for tonight, and then I started crying and- I’m not sick. I don’t get sick anymore.”
Bucky dropped his hand from his gun and walked over to Steve, pushing a few strands off of his face, soft as ever.
“Stevie…” Bucky whispered, and Steve’s eyes shined bright.
“Buck…”
“I’m not… I’m not better.” Bucky muttered, and Steve smiled softly.
“That’s okay, Buck. Tomato soup heals all.”
Oh, I was burning out but then you said, "you should leave the light on." It can't be a coincidence that I falter when you're gone.
And I cope, but I promise you it's different. You're strong, I'm not. It's the shape of your hands, made me brave once again.